In which Nemurin and Sora are chastised for their attire.
The warm glow of Traverse Town faded within that single blink of light, a stream of colours flowing up and down and around their bodies. It felt close to the domain Nemurin knew, yet somehow still at a certain distance, one just not close enough for her to reach out and take it in any way, though that offered little issue, at least for the moment. Yet that world of colour didn't fade, only shift, once they felt their feet on the ground. Nemurin looked to Sora with a tilt of the head.
"Looks like we made it, huh~" she yawned, her pillow still safe under the pit of her right arm. The dreamy girl turned towards the cobbled ground, where Sheppy darted from a spherical white portal and back to her side, quivering like a child separated from its mother. "There there, we're right here..." she hushed, patting the little guy atop his white, fluffy head.
Shortly behind him came Morgana, her tiny legs padding softly across the ground, an air of confidence surrounding her. She looked up at Sora, before turning to Nemurin, as if making sure they were most certainly there, before turning her attention to preening herself. Within the moments that followed, Nemurin raised one of her massive sleeves to shield her eyes from the wide gleams of sunlight coming in from the open sea of pale sky above their heads, a few clouds drifting by, softer to look at than the usual - another subtle reminder of exactly what realm you were in. Small houses with wooden doors and cold-coloured gable roofs lingered all across what looked to be a marketplace, fresh scents of baked bread and flowers emanating like a sweet song through the air, people rushing to and thro past the two of them. Sheppy bristled and nuzzled close into Nemurin's exposed leg, bleating a little, Morgana simply hissing as she bounced along, making her pathway firm.
It would seem that some form of celebration was taking place on this day; rainbows of buntings hung from rooftop to rooftop, and rains of confetti came down just up ahead wherever they walked.
"What is this place?" Sora wondered aloud, ducking underneath a man who had gone to hit his neighbour in the face with some sort of pie.
"Lively?" Nemurin responded back, casually slipping past said neighbour returning the favour.
"Yeah, definitely," Sora agreed, laughing a little to himself, his blue eyes taking in more of the scene as they passed through it.
A few horses ate from bales stacked up in rackety wooden carts, and people chatted in and out. Some turned to stare at them, or more specifically, stared at their attire and their hair, but others just shrugged and continued laughing with their companions or downing bottles of an unknown substance. One, who had been knocking it down his throat one shot after another, stumbled up to them.
"Hey...! Those are...great costumes...!" he slurred out. "You look...Fools of Feast for the...great!" he continued.
"...I'm sorry, what?" Sora repeated, blinking heavily.
"Thank you~" Nemurin translated.
"Want some? You can all...have a time great!" the man continued, holding up his bottle. Up close, Nemurin could see a loose, grapey liquid splashing around in it.
"Hm..." Nemurin trailed off. "Sora, how old are you?"
"Huh?" Sora asked, placing his hands behind his head, his eyes seeming to wander for a moment; had so much been going on prior to Nemurin meeting him he couldn't remember his own age? After a few long seconds, he answered, "Fifteen, why?"
"Then sorry, but no..." Nemurin answered the man. "That's the adult stuff. You don't wanna have too much of it, especially at your age,"
She was almost tempted to say you could end up like Calamity Mary, since from what little she knew of her, who in their rare encounters often stunk high of sake and curses, but she kept that to herself, as if wondering if a phantom of her would shoot her in the gut for saying it.
"Oh..." Sora remarked, almost disappointed. "Hey, how old are you, Nemu?"
"Uh...been a while since I've been asked that...twenty-four, I think?" Nemurin replied.
"Twenty-four!?" Sora repeated, eyes widening as if he'd tasted something that was abruptly bitter or sweet. "I-I! Uh..." he stammered, bowing his head in what was either a sense of being flustered or some form of shame. "I didn't, I, uh..."
"It's okay, nobody does~" Nemurin assured, her voice unchanging. It was true; Magical Girls were funny like that - some, like Magicaloid 44, spoke as sternly as adults while reaching up to her chest. "Where are we?"
"The most place on the golden!" the man exclaimed again, arms flopping out widely, likely to place emphasis on his point. "Paris, France! Course..." he slurred, wiping a bit of drool from the side of his lips. "Tis' the only day it is...after today's gonna be the year of the worst!" he continued, his speech growing more stumbled.
Alas, before either she or Sora could ask him anything else, a woman soon emerged from a nearby house, face scrunched and eyes not slackening off their target. "Jehan!" the woman hissed, wide hands resting atop her wide hips as she stormed towards the three. "Look at you! It's still daylight and you're already in such a state! And in front of a child no less!" one hand thusly left her side, gesturing vaguely to Sora and Nemurin, though it inched slightly towards the former - he didn't fail to notice, seeming a little disheartened.
"Don't worry, this one's plenty manly~" Nemurin assured, patting Sora's spiked head of hair, which seemed to raise his spirits a little.
"I apologise for this bespawler husband of mine, you two," the woman turned towards them properly, now grasping onto Jehan's collar loosely.
"'C'mon! I'm not as think as you drunk I am..." Jehan slurred.
"He always has been quite devoted to celebrating the Festival of Fools. I don't mind him having his fun, Providence forbids us any other day, but he could at least wait until night comes! But, I suppose I can't begrudge him too much. I just hope Minister Frollo doesn't see, he'll have his guts for garters in that Palace of Justice for it if he does!"
"Huh? Frollo?" Sora repeated with a tilt of the head.
Blinking slightly, the woman sputtered a bit. "You don't know him? Goodness, I do thank above that he's not around, he'd have us all in the stocks!" the woman looked left and right, as if watching for this aforementioned Frollo. "I suppose you're not from around here, bless you both. Frollo is our Minister of Justice here in Paris, and he's a right rakefire, that man. One move slightly out of place and you're on his eye of troublemakers for life, no matter how minor the act! You can probably guess how full my hands are with this one. Today's the one day where this city belongs to the Roma more than anyone, and that's the fun of it!" she beamed brightly. "The Festival of Fools!" she finished, a lace of romanticism at the tips of her voice.
"The Festival of Fools? Sounds pretty fun," Nemurin commented.
"Oh, it is. You should see the acts they have prepared out in the square, it gets better every year! Especially that Esmeralda, ah; God himself had to have blessed her with the face of an angel...though between you and I, truthfully, I fear for the days after; Frollo is always much more intent on his...searches than normal once today has come and gone," the woman proceeded, lowering her voice.
"What? Why?" Sora asked, eyes softening in concern.
"I can't say much out here; quick, shoo, shoo, here they come! You get in!" the woman turned her body around towards the archway of her home, tugging along her husband whose bottle had finally dripped empty, leaving small grape-coloured droplets on the stone ground.
For a second, Sora and Nemurin turned to look at each other, spotting the matching puzzles they sported; "What did that mean?" Sora wondered.
Nemurin was about to give a shrug, when suddenly the streets fell far more silent, at least compared to their previous chorus of laughter and persistent chatter, the topics becoming more regulated and quiet as the figure in the crowd passed them by. It was as if he didn't know today was a festival, and instead had been told that today was a funeral; his clothes, a dreary set of robes was only a sea of pitch black, accented with only tips of reds and purple, and a just as dark tricorn silk hat sat atop his grey head, angular features depicting a face of what appeared to be perpetual disdain.
"Sora...have you ever seen a buzzkill in human form?"
"I don't think so?"
"Well, now you have..."
Just as a few boyish snickers was about to escape Sora's light features, they suddenly felt a startled shot rattle the pair of them as a cold voice silenced the dying chatter, "You two." it hissed, icily. Their heads turned, and those dead eyes narrowed and didn't leave their forms. Morgana looked up towards them, as if confused, and Sheppy remained as tight as a brace to Nemurin's exposed leg.
"Um, us...?" Sora repeated, scratching the back of his head. Even that prompted a few quiet gasps, before they went silent again.
Such a simple thing to say, yet the elderly man viewed it with what looked to be disgust, nearing offence. "Yes. Both of you."
Awkwardly, Sora and Nemurin slowly shifted from their spot, once just a small part of a vast crowd, now having dispersed into an uncomfortable gap that placed the sun's spotlight onto them, revealing them for those surrounding to gawk at and question. An uneasy twist turned in Nemurin's gut as she walked next to Sora, feeling as though they were all being judged from every angle imaginable; it was like when the teacher noticed you expressing as visibly as possible that you wished to blend in with the classroom corner and actively chose to have you present or do something before the eyes of the class, yet this was somehow even worse, perhaps because you usually knew your teachers were just misguided rather than sadistic and judgmental, while with this man, neither of them could be so sure, who continued to glower down at the two of them. Nemurin took a few steps more than Sora, as though to shield him now that their age difference was more apparent - you might say she felt a certain responsibility, the same one she felt towards Snow White and La Pucelle; granted, she hadn't quite been sure of their ages, but she suspected they had been about Sora's age, perhaps a bit younger when she knew them.
"I've never seen either of yourselves around here before. What are your names?" the man interrogated, sternly.
"I'm Sora!" Sora greeted, a polite chipperness ringing in his voice.
Yawning a little, Nemurin stretched, "I'm Nemurin," she introduced, simply.
"Such disgusting attire. I know exactly what sort of vermin you two are," the man decided, the disgust and disdain clear as the blue sky above their heads, making Nemurin and Sora shift again. His narrow eyes fell upon Nemurin again. "Especially yourself; do you honestly think dressing like that in public is acceptable? Whoever your husband would be would have a right to inflict his own justice onto you,"
Nemurin blinked, hardly able to believe what they'd just been told. "Hey," she spoke, her voice's tones rising slightly from its usual calm whisper. "Don't call him vermin," she put her arm in front of Sora, her long sleeve drifting down. "He hasn't done anything wrong. We were just passing through."
'Jokes on him, I don't have a husband...' Nemurin thought. She very nearly said so out loud, but she imagined it wouldn't do much to better their case, and the results of that would just be exhausting to deal with, that much she was sure of.
"Hey, never mind me, Nemu!" Sora assured, eyes wide, before looking up at the old man. "Don't talk to Nemurin like that!" he snapped, his usually kind eyes glaring in disgust at the words he had just heard.
Nose scrunching up at their defiant reactions, the elderly man gestured his head to a group of what looked like guards, dubbed in black and silver armour and helmets and all wearing rather nasty expressions, some glaring at them the way you did an animal ready for the slaughter, others smirking and grinning amongst themselves, some pointing out their small statures and petite frames.
"So, it would seem you're both part of the same disgusting band. Those wretched gyspies. I expected no less. Guards - escort them to the Palace of Justice - I will see to your sentences personally once this disgusting festival concludes." the man pointed at the two of them, prompting a few gasps of shock from the people, yet not one moved to their aid.
"Uh oh..." Nemurin trailed off, a new wave of exhaustion flooding over her body. This definitely had to be Frollo, somehow she could feel it. She didn't exactly want to cause a riot and the results of it, but she wasn't going to just let herself and Sora get dragged off somewhere...
"Hey, wait, but we didn't!-" Sora protested.
"Judge Frollo, sir!" a brighter voice suddenly emerged, and a much brighter figure with it. He held a much more heroic look to him than that of the judge, golden armour glinting against the sunlight that hung high above them, his build carrying a certain strength along with it even underneath the armour that shielded his frame. Gold seemed to be a predominant colour for the man, as his hair and goatee were of the same sunlit shade, broken up by a blue cape and naturally coloured boots and gloves. A noble horse of dull white padded behind him, possessing a dark grey thin mane that lined the middle of its head.
"What is the matter, Captain Phoebus?" Frollo responded, voice dripping with irritation - presumably at the interruption of his so-called questioning of Nemurin and Sora. "Can't you see I'm interrogating these gyspies?" he questioned, sternly.
Captain Phoebus looked past Frollo's thin frame, and was met by the (admittedly) peculiar sight of Sora and Nemurin, in their distinctive clothes and uncertain expressions. Nemurin's eyes opened and softened, hoping to express without words their innocence to him at the very least, since Frollo hardly seemed to care for their reasonings or their virtue as visitors. He claimed to be sentencing them later, but he seemed to already have done so, as far as Nemurin was concerned.
"Those two...? Even this kid here? But sir, he's just a boy. I wouldn't be surprised if this girl was just his sister," Phoebus remarked.
"I will be the judge of that," Frollo spat back. "It is as I said, Captain. You have read the scriptures, I would hope?" his eyes basically answering only to an honest answer or a convincing lie; essentially, no room for disagreement.
"Well, of course, but-"
"Well then. Now, Captain; did you have something to report to me or did you not?" Frollo questioned. Nemurin looked between the guards, who were now focusing their attention on their golden-clad leader. Slipping her sleeve towards Sora, she grasped onto his hand, readying her feet.
"We're going to take this opportunity to make ourselves invisible, okay...?" Nemurin whispered into Sora's ear.
"Okay, how are we going to do that?" Sora tilted his head.
Creating a tiny circus of clouds from her palms, Nemurin slowly floated it behind the legs of the people who strolled past, either too drunk to speak or too concerned that Frollo would turn on them she suspected, until they reached the guards. With a flick of her finger, the cloud enlargened and poofed out of existence, knocking the groups of guards down like a set of dominoes. The horses nearby cried out in panic, raising their legs high, Sheppy nearly jumping himself.
"What!?" Frollo snapped, looking amongst the guards as they stumbled over themselves.
With not a moment to waste, Nemurin sprinted herself forward, and Sora followed straight ahead, darting on like a feather dancing across stormy gales. The gasps of people rose up and down throughout the street as they passed through various crevices and passed various shops of various colours, until their figures were beginning to blend in with the bright decorations worn by the festivalgoers.
"Oh no you don't!" a guard shouted out, making a spark of ice rush up Nemurin's back.
He raised a large sword and swung downwards, only for a loud metallic shriek to erupt in place of blood; the silver of Sora's Keyblade glimmered under the sunlight as he blocked his way to them. "Back off!" he shouted, shoving his way forward and the guard into a stumble, landing inelegantly onto his behind - and right next to the horse from earlier.
Glancing left and right, Phoebus discreetly turned to the horse, whispering; "Achilles, sit."
Without missing a beat, the horse did as ordered; sitting itself right atop the guard's back, making him shout out suddenly. Nemurin felt her lips tip upwards as she struggled to keep the giggles inside of herself, Sora managing to pull her further into the maze of the cheerful crowd. For a few moments, they kept moving, until they were met with a massive square and a mass of people, all looking just as strange as they were, ducking into an empty alley, just at the tail end of the large crowd that led into a city street.
"Think we lost them...?" Nemurin panted a little bit, stretching her arms as she leaned a bit against the stone wall.
"Think so," Sora nodded, standing at the other wall just four feet or so away, putting his hands behind his head as he let out a puff of breath, slowly catching it. "Woah, that was close...what was that guy's problem?" he complained. Morgana, as if in sworn agreement, turned her nose upwards, shifting dirt across the ground.
"No clue..." Nemurin replied, yawning a little, and Sheppy once again imitated her. "I can see what that lady meant earlier, about him being a 'rakefire', was it...?" she recalled. "Say, Sora, did that Yen Sid tell you how you were supposed to unlock these Keyholes?" she questioned.
"Uh..." Sora folded his arms, brain cogging along. "Well, no, not really - what I usually do is I go to a world, I deal with whatever problems it has, and once everything's resolved, the Keyhole reveals itself."
"So once the place gets a level of peace, the Keyhole can be unlocked, huh...?"
"Yeah, like that! At least, I think so. That's how it's been for me anyway," Sora explained, the light in his voice returning now that they weren't under risk of arrest.
"Ah...that makes sense, I think," Nemurin commented. "...Do you think that guy might be the 'problem', so to speak...?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if he was. Along with the Dream Eaters...hey, speaking of which, Nemu, I wanted to ask you something," Sora continued, hands behind his head again.
"Yeah..?~"
"You said you were a Magical Girl earlier, right? So get magical powers, fight off bad guys and save people?" Sora asked.
"Uh-huh...?"
"Well...did you have to save a lot of people during big events like these?"
Nemurin pondered for the moment, tilting her head slightly, her long tails of blonde hair reaching the cobbled ground. "Hm..." she began. Answering that question was a little difficult, primarily because it was she he was asking - if he had been faced with any of her other Magical Girls, Top Speed, Snow White, Sister Nana, then they would likely have far more of an idea.
"Well, I'm probably the wrong person to ask...I work in the Dream World, mostly. I tend to prefer talking to people through their dreams and aiding them that way. I did have other Magical Girls who I'd talk to once a week, though...and yeah, I'd say so. Top Speed would go watch over events in case stuff happened there," she recalled a story the witch-themed Magical Girl had told her, where she had to stop a drunken man from tumbling down a flight of stairs while attending a festival.
Sora slowly nodded as she spoke, eyes glinting curiously at the mention of other Magical Girls, but hardened with understanding at the likelihood of the Dream Eaters potentially running a riot into this place. "Let's keep moving through here - that way, we can avoid those jerks and keep an eye out for any Nightmares," he proposed.
"Sounds like a plan~"
"I didn't know there were other Magical Girls like you where you came from though..." Sora said. "Say, what were they like?" he wondered.
"Hmm~ let's see...there were a lot of us, about sixteen by the time...things happened," Nemurin began to explain, deciding, for now, to leave out the matter of her status as one of the deceased. "We could all look pretty different; there was La Pucelle, she wore armour like dragon scales, and I think her power was to change the size of her sword. There was Snow White - she was really popular - she could hear the thoughts of people in danger. And Top Speed - she looked like a witch, she really was nice though, I'm being literal - she could fly on her broom..." she trailed off, Sora's eyes glinting as he imagined all these different girls with their different powers.
"Wow...that's really impressive...!" Sora responded, smiling. "I wonder if they'd ever show up here," he added.
It was then that a strike fell upon Nemurin's heart at his innocent remark; that of the elimination game, which declared that the sixteen Magical Girls had to be cut down to eight. And if even having no Candies meant that you died, as Nemurin did, then...that meant at least eight of her old friends no longer lived. A sombre air fell over her body, wondering if the eight who likely could have would ever make it here; only fortunate with the knowledge that her early death deprived her of; that not even eight Magical Girls had been allowed, and that only two had survived. Let us be glad she knew nothing of that, and that she heartily believed there were at least still eight.
Slumping a little against the wall, Nemurin posed a weak smile, "Yeah...I wonder..." she said, nigh hopelessly.
Leaning forward, Sora's mouth moved; "Hey, what's-" he began, only to be interrupted by the loud blares of brass trumpets, making him duck down, gloved hands covering his ears. Nemurin lifted her head up as a procession came up the street - draped in dark colours, but still cheerful enough that they looked like more of a parade, emphasised by their rainbow of flags which flapped back and forth in the breeze. They sang aloud like a chorus, and the masked crowd gazed hard and with overflowing energy.
"Come one, come all! Leave your pens and milking stools! Coop the hens, and the pen the mules! Come one...come all! Close the churches and the schools, it's the day for breaking rules, come and join the feast offffff..." they held a long note, as a man in a hood suddenly appeared just slightly ahead of the crowd, and in the direct vicinity of the small parade - only for a man dubbed in a jester's attire to come sliding out from their legs, finishing their verse with a storm of confetti and a chorus of cheers, "Fools!"
The jester let out a hearty laugh, as he continued his song, encouraging their excitement. Sora and Nemurin might have been swept away in the waves of the party themselves if it hadn't been for him feeling an eye scanning for them; and sure enough, in a sore thumb of a 'tent', dubbed in black, purple and red, the same eyes like a dead fish looked about with a creased head and narrowed eyes.
"He's still looking for us, Nemu...!" Sora whispered in a hiss, though not an angry one.
"Now that's just..." Nemurin sighed, and Sheppy let out a bleat. Morgana huffed, as if she had half a mind to ruin Frollo herself, only held back by the fact that would dirty her delicate paws. "I guess that's our cue to keep moving, huh...?" she added, before beginning to shift through - only to find it was far easier than done.
She and Sora were tasked with ducking past circling dancers, being stopped by various puzzling acts representing all sorts of chaos, from a man with shoes on his hands to a 'mermaid' with a fish head and human legs, all of whom seemed to just love people who didn't want to get dragged into things. If they'd gotten a chance to catch up with him, since he moved just as quickly throw the crowd, likely seeking somewhere to hide away discreetly, she would have hidden them away with him. A certain shyness exuded from the hooded figure, who eventually was pulled towards the tents. As they passed each person, going in unknown directions; their only real figurative being to avoid the stage where Frollo and his guards were sat, they eventually reached a camp of colourful tents, dubbed in magenta, and pink, and crimson and all sorts of other pigments. They shuffled along the creases of the silky doors, now given another chance to communicate.
"This place really is crazy...!" Sora commented; a tad obvious, but perhaps inevitable all the same.
"Uh-huh~" Nemurin nodded.
"Say, you think these folks would enjoy Traverse Town?" Sora grinned.
"Probably would~" Nemurin agreed. "Then again...Traverse Town would probably be a bit of a wreck if these guys partied there, if we're taking Mister Jehan as an example..." she joked, lightly, prompting a small laugh out of Sora.
"Need some help?"
"Wah!" Sora jumped a bit, arms flailing a little as he turned around. Nemurin simply turned her head around, only to be met with a...rather beautiful sight.
It was a woman, who appeared somewhat older than them, about the same age as Captain Phoebus from before. Her skin was dark, and smooth, her pitch-black hair flowed gracefully down her shoulders and she had the most distinctive green eyes that glinted in the sunlight like freshly cut emeralds, to the point she felt herself be a little starstruck looking at her. Her eyes briefly flicked away from her, towards Sora, who seemed to realise quickly that the woman's eyes were kind, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Sorry," Sora bowed his head for a moment. "Who are you?"
"I'm Esmeralda; I take it you two aren't from here?" the woman introduced herself, her lips gracing her features with a smile.
"Nope, not even close..." Nemurin answered, drowsily.
"I'd imagine; are you here for the festival?"
"Y-yeah!" Sora chimed in - still a little awkwardly, as though he had just remembered something. "I'm Sora, and this is Nemurin...my sister and I, we've come for the Festival today."
"Ah, can't say I blame you. Let me guess - Frollo's guards were giving you trouble?"
"How'd you know?" Sora asked, mouth forming the shape of an 'o'. Even Nemurin blinked a little at how quick she caught on.
"Frollo despises anyone from outside the city," Esmeralda replied; the gentle nature of her tone had blinked out, replaced instead by a harshness, like that of a veteran speaking of their time in war. "My people most of all. You're safe with me," she assured, beckoning them inside the tent quickly. At the corner of their eyes, Sora and Nemurin could feel the wandering gaze of the guards dressed in black, quickly ducking past the silk opening, out of sight and out of mind.
A faint golden light hung from distinct decorations that hung gently from the tent's roof, glinting against their eyes with a golden glimmer, like tears of sunlight. An array of red shades dotted the tent's curtains which were held up by thin wooden poles, the blue floor soft against Nemurin's socks. The pair took it in for a few moments, only for their thoughts to be interrupted by a bleat, though not the sort that had come out of Sheppy, something stronger and more 'natural' for lack of a better word. A goat walked about the tent here and there, wearing a distinctive golden hooped earring. Sheppy bleated back, a long-drawn-out one akin to a cheer, and the goat gave one in reply. Morgana shifted and sniffed the air, sticking by Sora's legs.
"Come on," Sora smiled a bit, picking the large Spirit up and into his small arms. "We're not leaving you out, you know,"
Morgana writhed a bit, but settled, nuzzling a bit into his wrist, albeit with some begrudging.
"Seems Djali likes your little friend. And seems she likes you," Esmeralda's voice chimed in; and Nemurin felt the stars strike her again. She was clad in a striking scarlet dress with hot pink sleeves that hung off her shoulders, a purple shawl at her waist, and a golden set of accessories that shone like treasure.
"Woah..." Nemurin began, slack-jawed.
"You look great!" Sora complimented, beaming.
"Are you performing too...?" Nemurin asked, finally finding her words.
Esmeralda gave a nod, turning to the tent curtain, moving it to the side, allowing a view of the stage. "I will~" she answered. "I hope..." she bowed as she stepped out, giving a smile and a wink. "You enjoy the show,"
With that, she padded out of sight, Sora and Nemurin looking around left and right. "Wanna have a look...?" Nemurin asked. "She seems like a good person, huh?"
"Yeah," Sora agreed, heartily. "And sure, it's worth a shot, right? Are those guys still after us?"
"I'll send an eye~" Nemurin stated. Sora turned to her, blinking a little in puzzlement; only for a cloud to blink back at him as it formed in her hands, startling him slightly. "Off you go~" she gestured her hands forward, allowing it to take off.
In the Dream World, there was quite a bit Nemurin was capable of, even with her power beginning to loosen. This cloud's eyes were like her own, her pink gaze becoming somewhat glassy like she wasn't all there. From above, she could see everyone, various silhouettes dancing and moving left and right and up and down the square. The figures in black returned to one place, where Frollo sat, circling his seats, Phoebus stood next to him. Her eyes solidified again, and she gave a nod and a soft smile.
"We should be fine," Nemurin confirmed. With that said, the pair of them slowly crept from the tent, weaving their way back into the crowd, and the figure from before soon did as well...
She couldn't help but wonder who they might be...