Here's another chapter for you all. Please enjoy.
Ah, side note. I went ahead and crafted a custom cover for the story so hopefully it'll be a bit more attractive as opposed to the stock photo of Belobog. Here's hoping.
You know the drill.
Honkai Star Rail is property of Hoyoverse. I own nothing.
Bronya's words lingered in Caelus's mind like an echo in a vast, empty hall, haunting him more deeply than he could have anticipated. Hours had slipped away since their parting, yet her confession gnawed at his thoughts, refusing to be silenced.
It almost seemed like some sick joke on her part. How could she ever compare her actions to those of her mother? The contrast between them was already stark as it was.
"…Caelus."
Cocolia, the woman who had damned Belobog to an unending winter, each icy gust a reminder of her tyranny. The stellaron may have long since sunk its claws into Cocolia's soul, but the descent into darkness was a path she had chosen willingly.
Then came Bronya herself, a light amidst the shadows of what would be her mother's legacy.
"Caelus…?"
It wasn't right for Bronya to burden herself with guilt that she had no business bearing. The sins of the mother were not hers, no matter what anyone would come to think. The late guardian had made her choices, carrying her madness to the grave, unwittingly leaving her daughter to navigate the chaos left behind.
A chaos that was eating away at her bit by little-
"Caelus!"
The sharpness of the voice cut through his reverie like a knife through a dense fog. His eyes darted around wildly before focusing on the woman seated across from him.
Natasha's years of patience were being put into practice here, though an exasperated gaze was quite present in her eyes.
"Oh, sorry, Nat. Did you need something?"
"The iodine, please," she replied calmly, her hand outstretched in a gesture that demanded attention.
Caelus blinked, his surroundings coming into sharper focus as the fog of his thoughts lifted. Realization washed over him, bringing a flush of embarrassment to his cheeks. "Oh, right… uh…"
"The bottle to your left, Caelus," Natasha directed with a hint of amusement, her lips tugging up in the barest hint of a smile.
He fumbled clumsily, nearly tipping over the bottle before snatching it just in time to prevent a spill. "Ah, here," he said, handing it over with an awkward smile.
Natasha took the bottle from him without a word, her movements efficient and surgical as she reached for a roll of gauze. The moment she began to wrap the injured young man's wound, he yelped in pain, his voice cracking like a whip in the sterile air. "Oh hush. You have no one to blame but yourself," Natasha scolded, her tone sharp but not unkind. "You were lucky to get off with only a nasty scrape. What were you thinking, taking on an automaton of all things?"
"But… but it was a dare," the patient stammered, his defense weak and wavering.
Natasha huffed, planting her hands firmly on her hips, her gaze stern. "Honestly. You boys are going to find yourselves in over your heads one day, then even I won't be able to patch you up. Let's hope you learned a valuable lesson from this."
"…yeah, bring weapons next time," the young man mumbled under his breath, though not quietly enough to escape her notice.
"What was that…?" Natasha's voice dropped to a dangerous lilt, her eyes narrowing with a promise of swift retribution.
"N-nothing, ma'am!" the patient quickly amended, his face paling.
Caelus watched the exchange in patient silence, once more presented with a reminder of Natasha's duality. After all this was the woman who, beneath her nurturing exterior, led an underground movement that had kept the Underworld from total anarchy until recently.
"Good. Now sit there and let the medicine work. I'll check on you in a bit," she instructed with a finality that brooked no argument. Then, turning her attention to Caelus, she grabbed the hood of his jacket with a firm grip, her eyes gleaming with unspoken intentions. "As for you," she said, her voice low and authoritative, "let's have a little chat, shall we?"
Caelus gulped, his heart skipping a beat as she steered him to the far side of the room. In her grasp, he felt a mix of trepidation and respect, knowing full well that this was a woman who could weather any storm—and drag him along for the ride if necessary.
There was little he could do but follow her lead, Natasha's grip gentle yet insistent as she guided him to the small table nestled in the corner of the room. The dim light cast soft, wavering shadows on the walls, and the antiseptic scent of the clinic hung in the air, a potent reminder of their surroundings. She gracefully deposited him into one of the two chairs present as she settled herself across from him.
"Sorry, I guess I was a bit distracted," Caelus muttered, his voice trailing off like a whisper in the wind.
Natasha's gaze was unwavering, her magenta eyes gleaming with a blend of curiosity and concern. "I'll say. If I'd known you were this troubled, I wouldn't have bothered you like this," she remarked, a playful yet pointed edge to her words.
"No, it's fine. I'm just…" Caelus's voice faltered, his gaze dropping to the worn tabletop, its surface scarred with the marks of countless encounters. He might have continued to stare at it, lost in his own turbulent thoughts, had it not been for the soft touch of Natasha's velvet-covered hand lifting his chin, compelling him to meet her eyes.
Her stare was searching, not harsh or judgmental, but filled with a deep, almost maternal concern that made his chest tighten. He would have preferred the sharp sting of reproach to the tender worry glowing in her eyes – that was simpler to handle.
"Caelus, this isn't like you. What's going on? What's wrong?" she asked, her voice as soothing as a balm and as probing as a needle.
His mouth went dry, his thoughts tangled in a web of secrets and responsibilities.
The choice bounced around a bit in his skull. Should he tell her? Bronya had trusted him with her deepest fears, her confession shared in the quiet shadows of secrecy. And the implications of that knowledge were vast, capable of shaking the very foundations of Belobog.
If the truth about the Architects and Bronya's struggle ever came to light, it could spark a rebellion against her leadership.
No. Telling Natasha, no matter how kind-hearted and well-meaning she was, would be like tossing a burning match into an ammo dump.
That, and Bronya trusted him; discarding that for the slightest bit of relief would weigh too heavily on his soul.
But the specter of the deranged guardian loomed large in his mind, a haunting presence that refused to be exorcised. Even in death she demanded attention.
Cocolia. The woman who had wielded the stellaron's power like a deadly blade, had nearly brought him and his friends to ruin on that fateful day atop Everwinter Hill. Her visage still haunted his nightmares, a figure as fearsome and unyielding as the Destroyer he had faced on Herta's station.
And yet, the enigma of Bronya's mother was a labyrinth of contradictions. She wasn't a mindless monster or an apathetic deity; she had once been a woman, full of life, dreams, and a twisted sense of duty that had driven her to such dark ends.
His dream of her replayed in his mind, a vision that had shaken him to his core. He had borne witness to a side of Cocolia that questioned everything of the cold, ruthless persona she had embodied in their confrontations. There, in the fragmented tapestry of his dreams, she had appeared almost fragile, a woman so desperate for that connection that made her solemn mission worth it all.
He had buried these doubts beneath the avalanche of crises that followed, but now, in the relative calm of the clinic, they surged back with relentless force, topped with a single damning question:
Who was Cocolia?
Was she the formidable and beautiful ruler who sought to protect her people at any cost, or was she a nothing but a despot, lost to madness and ambition, and who had hoped to herald a new era even at the cost of the very people she swore to safeguard?
The stories and memories of those around him were divided, painted with the hues of their personal experiences and biases. As her adopted daughter, Bronya's take on her mother was one of deep filial loyalty and betrayal; the Silvermane Guard's of duty and lament; and Wildfire's of defiant rebellion against the guardian's oppression.
That can't be all of it, he thought with a frustrated scowl.
There had to be more to her story, more than the binary of savior and monster that others ascribed to her. Nothing was so cut and dry, especially where humans were concerned. Everything was gray and Cocolia for all her faults was no exception.
If only I could ask her myself…
But even if he had the chance, he doubted he would receive anything but gilded lies, crafted to hide the darkness that had long since consumed the woman Bronya still called mother.
It wasn't fair to either of them, trapped as they were by the legacies of their choices.
"You're brooding again," Natasha's voice broke through the fog of his musings, grounding him once more. Her eyes, intense but not harsh, seemed to phase through the walls he had built around his thoughts.
In another time, he might have felt self-conscious under such scrutiny, but now it was a lifeline, pulling him back from the abyss.
"That obvious, huh?" he replied with a sheepish smile, his voice tinged with reluctant acknowledgment.
"You're my patient; it's my job to look after you," she said, as if that explained everything. Her hand, warm and reassuring, slipped from his chin to rest gently atop his left, a silent promise of understanding and support.
The warmth of her touch radiated through him, a vocal reminder that he wasn't alone in this maze of uncertainty and doubt he'd found himself in. Natasha's steady presence was a beacon in the storm, offering a glimmer of clarity amidst the swirling questions that plagued him.
Yet, even as he found solace in her concern, the mysteries of Cocolia and the burdens of his knowledge remained, shadows lurking at the edge of his consciousness, waiting to resurface once more.
Natasha's casual remark briefly lifted the oppressive fog from Caelus's mind, but it wasn't long before the question gnawed at him again, like an insistent drumbeat echoing in the silence. He clenched his fists, the decision to take a risk forming in the recesses of his thoughts. He needed answers, and there was only one person now who could provide them.
"Natasha, be honest with me: what do you think of Cocolia?"
The question hung in the air, charged with the weight of its implications. Natasha's initial shock was predictable.
As the leader of Wildfire, she had been a stalwart adversary of Cocolia, fighting against the injustices the former supreme guardian had wrought upon Belobog's Underworld. To someone like her, Cocolia was the architect of their suffering, an enemy whose shadow once loomed large over their lives – and to some, it still did.
But it was the silence that followed, thick and contemplative, that unsettled him. Natasha's soft expression hardened, her eyes narrowing into sharp, demanding slits. "Why ask that all of a sudden?" she responded, her voice edged with a cold, brittle curiosity.
Caelus knew he was treading dangerous ground. Cocolia's betrayal ran deep, carving rifts of bitterness and sorrow that still ached within the heart of the Underworld. The doctor's hostility was justified. To her, Cocolia had abandoned the very people she had sworn to protect by severing the lifeline to the surface, condemning them to a slow and almost certain death amidst the Fragmentum's encroaching decay.
Caelus felt hesitation grip like a vice. The last thing he wanted to do was dig up old grudges, especially when it seemed that Natasha was finally moving forward with her life.
But the need to understand, to unearth the truth beneath the layers of hatred and regret, drove him forward.
"Did you ever think that maybe there was something wrong with her?" he ventured, his voice barely more than a whisper. The last thing he needed was for anyone else out of the know to hear this exchange.
Natasha's grip on his hand tightened just then, her fingers like threatening to cut off the blood flowing to it. Her eyes blazed with a fierce intensity, pinning him with twins of smoldering magenta. "To abandon the home she came from, to leave so many to starve and die to the Fragmentum? She damn well better have had something wrong with her," she all but spat out, her words seething with righteous anger before she collected herself somewhat. "Some people are just born mad, Caelus, and others suffer because of it."
Caelus bit down on his tongue, the sharp sting a distraction from the storm that was beginning to within him.
Natasha was a dear friend, someone whose judgment he valued deeply. Her words had guided him through many storms, and he had trusted her implicitly, even when she had asked him to take care of matters as delicate as her checkered past.
And yet, despite the horrors inflicted upon them by Cocolia's reign, something about Natasha's vehement condemnation felt… wrong. Hypocritical, even.
He couldn't quite place why, but the feeling gnawed at him, insistent and unyielding, like a tick that dug deeper with each passing second.
Then, as if that same tick had bit down on a nerve, the words spilled from his lips before he could stop them.
"You thought the same thing about Svarog before, too," he pointed out darkly, only realizing the true weight of his words when Natasha's eyes darkened to the point they eerily reminded him of Cocolia's.
"...Excuse me?" she uttered with a low, dangerous growl, and had he been wiser, Caelus might have retreated.
But instead, he held his ground, meeting her steely glare with a resolve born from countless battles. It was a confrontation not for the faint of heart, and the intensity of her gaze was enough to send braver men scurrying.
Throwing down with that of a lord ravager had done wonders for his courage it seemed.
"Svarog's logic put him at odds with Wildfire, yes. But ultimately, he was doing what he believed was right for the Underworld… just as you were. We saw him as an obstacle to reaching the surface and dealing with Cocolia. His actions and our perception of him deemed him an adversary. But Clara," he paused, a small, fond smile tugging at his lips as he thought of the spirited, robot-loving girl, "she stood up for him. She begged us to hear him out, to see the world through his eyes. Heck, she's probably the reason we made it as far as we did in the first place..."
"What's your point?" Natasha snapped, her scowl deepening, shadows dancing across her face in the dim light.
"That Clara is to Svarog what Bronya is to Cocolia. The only difference is, we never had the chance to truly hear Cocolia's story," Caelus continued, his voice growing more confident. "Apart from her twisted dreams of a new world born from the Stellaron, that is."
Natasha's magenta eyes still burned with residual anger, but her silence gave him the courage to drive his point home.
"I used to think the same as you, that Cocolia was a monster. But recently, my view has started to shift. Both Cocolia and Svarog were powerful forces that shaped our fates, that kept us locked away in the Underworld. They were both obstacles to overcome at the time, but there's more to their stories than just the roles they played as our oppressors. And… I think, deep down, you know that too."
Natasha's eyes widened marginally, the anger in her eyes dimming to a simmer. Her grip on his hand loosened, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought, wrestling with the implications of his words.
Caelus watched her, the tension between them a taut string ready to snap or unwind.
The truth was a complicated, multifaceted beast. Even now he still didn't have all the pieces.
Whatever Natasha's response might have been was abruptly silenced by the soft chime of the bell at the front entrance. Both she and Caelus turned their heads in unison, their conversation abruptly cut short by the arrival of a young woman, her crying daughter clinging tightly to her side. The air filled with the child's muffled sobs, a plaintive sound that tugged at the heart.
"Excuse me, Miss Natasha, I hate to bother you, but my daughter—" the mother began, her voice laced with urgency and concern.
"There's no need to apologize," Natasha interjected, her own voice soothing as a lullaby. A gentle smile played on her lips as she rose gracefully from her seat, her hand slipping away from Caelus's as she crossed the room in a few long, purposeful strides. Kneeling before the distraught child, she looked up with a gaze as soft as velvet. "Now, sweetie, tell me what's the matter."
"My… my tummy hurts really badly," the little girl whimpered, her small hand rubbing fiercely at her left eye, as if to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop.
"Oh, we can't have that," Natasha crooned, reaching out to brush away the damp streaks on the child's cheeks. "Let's see what we can do about that, hm? Caelus?" She turned her head slightly, her voice carrying an unspoken request.
Caelus, already rising to his feet, instinctively prepared to assist, but Natasha's next words brought him up short. "I can handle things from here. Why don't you run along for now?"
Though her tone was kind, Caelus knew the good doctor well enough by now to sense the underlying message. She wanted to handle this alone, a subtle but clear boundary drawn in the sand, likely as a result of their discussion. It stung, a sharp prick of rejection, but he understood and respected her wishes.
Making a scene would serve no one right now.
"Sounds good. I'll go see if the others are busy or something."
As he moved towards the door, the mother's eyes widened in sudden recognition, and she gasped softly. "Oh, my! I wasn't aware the Hero of Belobog would be here! I hope we didn't interrupt anything."
The awe in her voice did little to ease the mounting guilt that churned within him, but he managed to muster a smile, albeit a fragile one. "It's no trouble. I was just heading out anyway."
"O-oh… Well, please take care," the mother stammered, her voice a mix of gratitude and reverence.
"T-thank you for helping us, Mister Trailblazer!" the little girl called out, her voice small but earnest. She waved at him with tiny fingers, her mother echoing the gesture with a warm smile.
Natasha, meanwhile, had already shifted seamlessly back into her role as head of the clinic, taking the child's temperature and murmuring reassurances. She exuded calm and competence, her focus entirely on her young patient, as if the weight of their recent conversation had never existed.
Caelus paused for a moment, taking one last glance at Natasha, her every action a testament to the quiet strength that defined her. Then he stepped out into the bustling streets of the Underworld, the familiar noise and chaos enveloping him like an old, worn cloak. He let his feet guide him through the labyrinthine pathways, his mind only half-registering the friendly waves and nods from those who recognized him as he passed by.
With each passing step, Bronya's words echoed in his mind, relentless and unforgiving.
Someone strong would've been able to save my mother.
Someone strong…
The phrase reverberated within him, a bitter reminder of his own perceived shortcomings. The day Cocolia had confronted them on Everwinter Hill had left more than just physical scars. It had carved a wound deep within his soul, one that had recently been agitated, festering with doubt and uncertainty.
He knew now that he wasn't the paragon of strength Bronya seemed to think so highly of, and it was this realization he found was the true legacy Cocolia had bestowed upon him.
The thought gnawed at him as he walked, each step taken a silent testament to the burden he carried.
The so-called hero of Belobog, celebrated and revered, lost himself in the hustle and bustle around him. The paved streets blurred around him, a cacophony of life and light that he barely registered, lost as he was in the labyrinth that was his thoughts.
And so, he wandered on, a solitary figure adrift in a sea of faces, each step echoing with the questions and doubts that refused to be silenced.
"Oh, Caelus!"
The sudden call pulled him from his reverie, his head snapping up to see a familiar figure waving enthusiastically from across the street. Serval, with her golden locks flecked with blue gleaming under the dim lights of the Underworld, hurried towards him, her smile as radiant as the sun breaking through storm clouds.
"Serval? What brings you down here?" Caelus asked, surprise mingling with a flicker of curiosity. Her presence was like a breath of fresh air in the somber confines of the Underworld.
"Ran out of components for a job, so I'm hoping the shops down here have what I need," she replied, rubbing her wrist absentmindedly, her gaze scanning the bustling market around them. "It's kept me pretty busy lately." She glanced back at him, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest. "What about you? Off to help out Natasha, I take it?"
It was all he could do not to grimace at that hollow reminder.
Doubt she'll want to see me for a while after this… Can't blame her either. I still don't know what got into me back there.
"No, no, I just… finished a run for her," he said, trying to sound casual, though the slight hesitation in his voice betrayed him. He hoped his excuse would suffice. Serval wasn't just a stunning beauty; her sharp intellect often put the researchers on Herta's station to shame.
Serval raised an eyebrow, her expression turning playfully saccharine. She reached out and looped her arm through his, her touch warm and inviting. "In that case, why don't you give a girl a hand? Lugging all these parts back topside would be a real chore otherwise."
Part of him wanted to refuse, to retreat back into the solitude where he could wrestle with his thoughts undisturbed. The memories of Bronya sorrow, the haunting echoes of his dreams, all swirled around him like a maelstrom. Being around others felt like a task too heavy to bear.
But then again, the prospect of solitude was equally daunting. His ruminations would gnaw at him unabated, wearing down his sanity until there was nothing left but a hollow shell. A shudder ran through him at the thought of where that path might lead.
He needed a distraction, something to pull him from the abyss, even if only for a while. Back on the space station, losing himself in all the researchers' errands had provided a temporary reprieve. Maybe this could be the same. If playing pack mule for Serval meant silencing the cacophony in his mind, however briefly, then it was a small price to pay.
"Sure, why not? I could give you a hand at the workshop too, if you need," he offered, his voice tinged with a note of reluctant acceptance.
"Oh, you're awesome!" Serval beamed, her enthusiasm contagious. "Come on, the first stop's just around the corner. In and out, promise."
With a gleam in her eye, she began to drag him down the cobbled street, her excitement propelling them forward. To anyone else, the determined gleam in her eyes might have been intimidating, but Caelus found it almost comforting. He was used to her boundless energy, her zest for life that seemed to light up even the darkest corners of Belobog's Underworld.
As they wound through the narrow alleys, the ambient sounds of the marketplace surrounded them – the clink of metal, the hum of conversations, the occasional bark of a vendor hawking their wares. Caelus let himself be pulled along, the vibrant chaos a welcome distraction from his morose thoughts.
Besides, helping Serval out in her workshop was always a pleasant diversion. He enjoyed working with the blonde like this; all the shared moments tinkering with machines, and the way her eyes would light up with a brilliant idea were treasured little memories to him.
And I mean really? He mused to himself with a wry smile. How much could she possibly need this time?
The rhythmic clinking and clattering of metal filled the workshop as its dedicated owner toiled away. In the midst of scattered circuit panels, loose screws, and assorted tools, the chaotic semblance of a radio slowly transformed into its former glory. With a final twist of her screwdriver, the once dilapidated mess was reborn.
"Aaaand there!" Serval exclaimed with triumph, wiping a smudge of grime from her forehead. Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she handed the now pristine radio back to its astonished owner.
"It looks practically brand new! Thank you, Miss Landau!" The customer's voice was filled with wonder, their fingers tracing the smooth surface as if it were a newly discovered treasure.
Serval beamed, her smile wide and infectious. "Sure thing and thank you for choosing Neverwinter Workshop!" She gave a friendly wave as the customer departed, then let out a contented hum. Leaning back, she surveyed her bustling domain. "Alright, that's the last one for today. Took a little elbow grease to get everything running again, but nothing beats a hard day's work, right…?"
Her words hung in the air, met only by a groan from the corner of the room. She turned, eyebrow arched in mock disapproval. "Oh, come on, you big baby! What would everyone say if they saw you lazing around like this?"
In said corner, Caelus found himself sprawled across a pair of chairs, his limbs a tangle of exhaustion. He had been her reluctant companion on a marathon shopping spree, dragged from shop to shop, stand to stand. Each stop had added to his burden, a collection of rusty parts that felt like they weighed as much as lead.
He groaned inwardly, recalling the tram ride back—a sardine-can journey standing amidst a sea of bodies. "Never thought I'd miss the turbo lifts on the space station so much," he muttered, his arms still aching from their earlier ordeal as makeshift shelves.
As if their return journey wasn't punishment enough, Serval had immediately put him to work in her workshop. For two relentless hours, he fetched and carried, while she meticulously repaired and restored.
"Why didn't you have Molly help you out? Isn't she your apprentice still?" he asked, casting a weary glance from his makeshift resting place.
Serval chuckled, unconsciously adjusting a tool on her bench. "I gave her the day off to visit her folks in the Underworld. Tried to talk her way out of it, but I can be very persuasive."
"I'm sure," he replied, massaging his sore arms. "Ugh, my arms feel like jelly…"
Serval rolled her eyes. "You swing that bat of yours around constantly—how is fetching a few tools for me any different?"
"Because it hardly weighs anything, unlike everything you had me get—and carry up here," he shot back, testily.
Rather than rise to his jab, Serval merely crossed her arms and lifted a delicate blond eyebrow, a silent reminder of who was really in charge. The expression was so familiar, so reminiscent of her brother Gepard, that Caelus couldn't help but wince.
Guess I know who Gepard really takes after…
"Sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind, plus I've been having trouble sleeping."
Her gaze softened, lingering steadily on him for a moment before she sighed. "Considering you've been shuttling off across the galaxy lately, I guess I can't blame you for wanting some rest." She pivoted, leaning against her desk and looking at him through the fringe of hair that hung just above her eye. "I take it you've had more whirlwind adventures since then?"
"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you. That chaos with Cocolia seems almost peaceful looking back on it."
"Yeah…" Serval's tone grew melancholy at that admission, her gaze drifting to some distant, unseen point. Caelus risked a glance at her, noting the contemplative frown that darkened her features. "I… still think about that day from time to time. About how I basically dipped to deal with Geppie."
"You didn't have a choice," he pointed out gently. "He wouldn't have let us go if you hadn't stopped him."
"I get that, but still… Maybe I could've helped—talk her down or something."
Were it only that easy; Cocolia's descent had been assured long before they got there, her actions driven by forces beyond simple reasoning. Even her daughter, Bronya, had failed to sway her in the end. What chance did an old friend have?
Yet, he understood the lingering shadows of guilt that haunted Serval.
"Do you miss her?" he blurted out, then immediately regretted the question as he saw her flinch.
"Huh? Cocolia?" Serval blinked at him, her eyes darting away with a trace of guilt. "I dunno… maybe? Ugh, even now it's hard to piece together who was the real Cocolia."
It was so relatable that Caelus couldn't help but smile. How many times had wondered about the same thing within the last few days? Honesty he'd lost count because even what he knew about her seemed to be just a fabrication by other parties.
Truthfully, Serval was likely the only person who saw Cocolia without the rose-tinted glasses that Bronya did, and why he valued her words on the subject. It was a shame she had decided to stay here in Belobog instead of joining the Express, but he understood her reasoning.
Cocolia's shadow hung over everyone, Bronya especially of course; but Serval, who had grown up with the woman, had effectively been blanketed by it. Her intent to join the Express had been born out of a desire to shirk off that veil, but in the end she had demonstrated the strength of her will.
He had, however, learned some rather surprising things in the process, specifically about the former guardian herself.
"She was your bassist, wasn't she?"
"How did you—?" She , only to let out a rueful chuckle. "Is it bad that I kinda wish you forgot all that? I wasn't exactly at my best then."
"Every memory I make with you is precious, just as it is with all of my friends. You and Gepard trusted me enough to be there for you then, and that hasn't changed," Caelus said earnestly, watching as a faint blush crept up Serval's cheeks. She ducked her head right after, hiding her reaction, and he decided to ignore it for both their sakes. "Still, never took her for a metalhead. I figured she'd like classical stuff more."
"Pfft! That's only because she put on airs around everyone, but behind closed doors, she could kick it with the best. Hard to believe it's been so long… right, that was back when Dunn was still in the band," Serval remarked, a soft chuckle escaping her glossy lips.
"Man, you should've heard us back then. We really brought the house down, although Lia… I mean Cocolia, usually did herself up so she wouldn't be recognized. Can't have Belobog's savior shredding notes at some 'vulgar performance'—blegh," she added with a gag, clearly disdainful of those with more "sophisticated" opinions.
"You do miss her," Caelus commented, and Serval stilled. "You don't have to feel guilty about it. You said you'd no longer live in her shadow, but that doesn't mean you can't miss your friend."
"I know, but it's… old wounds, you know? Besides how things ended with us, given what she did and what she tried to do… it's not easy to think about her these days. But I gotta ask, why the sudden interest in her? Did something happen?"
Caelus stilled.
Crap.
The dream he had – the vivid, inexplicable vision of Cocolia and another man still gnawed at his thoughts. It would be a boldfaced lie to say he wasn't interested, but how could he explain that without sounding unhinged?
The hesitation must've shown on his face because Serval chuckled at him. "Caelus, come on, it's me. I ain't going to run you out if you say something weird – long as it's not about me anyways…" her eyes narrowed accusingly at that, "it's not about me, is it?"
The trailblazer couldn't help it; he broke out laughing, the worries vanishing from his mind in an instant. Leave it to Serval Landau to completely blow away any insecurities anyone had. "No, not you – this time at least."
"Oi, don't think I'm letting that one go!" the blonde shot back playfully, sharing another laugh with him. "So what is it? Come on, now I'm invested."
A few more chuckles escaped his lips before he sobered, trying to carefully word his next words. "Can I ask you something about her – about Cocolia I mean? I know it's still a sore subject, but… was she… seeing anyone in the past?"
Serval's response, while not what he feared also wasn't what he expected. The expectant and eager expression took a hike in less than a second, becoming as deadpan as one could be. "…Classy, Caelus. Really. Be glad Bronya didn't hear that—she might use you for target practice."
For a moment, he was stumped, trying to decipher her meaning. His confusion didn't last, sadly; the realization hit him the exact moment his cheeks flooded with heat. "I—I-that's not what I meant! I didn't—!"
Amid his flustered protests, Serval doubled over in laughter, pounding the countertop with her fist, the sound echoing through the workshop.
"I'M SERIOUS!" he practically screeched, his voice rising in agonized pitch as she continued to laugh.
"I-I can't breathe…! Gimme a second!" After a minute or so, she managed to get herself under control, though the teasing grin seemed part of her face now. "Oh man, you have no idea how much I needed that."
"Yeah, yeah, glad you enjoyed it," he grumbled sourly, feeling the heat still burning his cheeks. "Seriously though."
"Sorry, sorry," Serval giggled again before composing herself, albeit with a lingering smile. "Hmm. Well, I won't deny that we both were hot topics back in our academy days, emphasis on hot. Poor Dunn's a victim of that. He nearly asked me out on stage once, right in the middle of the show—God, that was embarrassing."
Caelus couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the diligent guard captain. Whether he realized it or not, Dunn had been firmly placed in the friend zone by the eldest Landau. "Then what about Cocolia?"
"She was heir to the guardianship—it'd be stupid not to be interested in something closer with someone like her," Serval replied with a fond roll of her eyes. "Heh. I lost count of how many times someone tried to get into her pants only to fall ill to hypothermia before the day was out."
"So… there wasn't anyone?" he pressed, and Serval's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing his insistence.
"She wasn't a monk," Serval admitted, her gaze drifting to the ceiling. "Neither of us were virgins by the time she went her own way," she added with a saucy wink, throwing him a playful grin.
Caelus forced himself to banish "those" kinds of thoughts from his mind before they made him react in a rather… indiscreet way. It was bad enough that Serval thought he was interested in his friend's mother, but to imagine her in such a provocative manner?
He'd sooner have kitchen duty with Pom-Pom for the rest of forever.
But Serval's words only left him more puzzled. If Cocolia never had any serious relationships back then, why did he dream of her with another man? What was the point of it all?
"Alright, my turn to ask questions—why the sudden interest? You were never curious about her before."
Caelus paused, weighing his options. There were a few excuses he could use, just in case someone more demanding sniffed out his curiosity, like Seele. Fortunately, Serval respected boundaries and didn't push unless she had to… which, in this case, she clearly wanted to.
Lying to her felt wrong, though. She had been one of the first friends he'd made in Belobog, aside from Seele, Natasha, and the Moles. What's more, she was privy to truths few others knew, so he could afford to let her in on some of his worries.
The dream stays with me though. Everything else I've said before will get debunked in a hurry if I utter any of that to her.
"Bronya asked me to come with her to Everwinter Hill," he said, settling on a partial truth.
"Because it was Lia's birthday, wasn't it?"
This time, it was his turn to shoot a surprised look at her. She poked her tongue out at him playfully. "You really think I could forget my best friend's birthday? Some things are just hardwired like that... even if sometimes I wish I could rewire them."
Caelus honestly had no idea how to respond to a statement like that, but fortunately, he didn't have to. The blonde ducked behind her desk to rummage around for something, kicking up a racket in the process. "Anyways, time for you to scoot. I've got a gig later tonight, so I'm gonna close up shop pretty quick. But before I go, here," she walked over and handed him one of the parts she'd bought down in the Underworld.
"Clara mentioned she was looking for one of those, so be a good sport and hand it off to her for me, would ya?"
"Serval, about Cocolia—" he tried to say, but she silenced him with a finger to his lips.
"Caelus, let me be clear. Lia and Cocolia are two very different people to me; one was my best friend, my sister in all but blood—the other was my ruler, and a tyrant in the end. Don't ask me which one I miss because that's a question I don't think I'll ever be able to answer."
There was a part of him that felt like pressing her further, but he shoved that to the side seeing what state she was in now. The blonde's eyes were now effectively shadowed by her bangs, concealing whatever turmoil she was battling with.
Don't make this like it was with Nat. Let it go for now.
"Ok," he told her, glancing down at the part in his hand. "Thank you for telling me all that, Serval. Really."
It might've been his imagination, but he swore he heard a sniffle come from her before she flicked her head back up, flashing a winning smile.
"Yeah no prob, now scoot. I gotta start closing this joint up before Pela comes breaking the door down."
He might've laughed at that if weren't a credible threat. Pela Sergeyevna was a force of nature when she put her mind to it.
"Alright, later then."
"See ya – and try not to have too many risqué daydreams about Cocolia~!"
"W-WAIT WHAT-!?"
The door shut right in his face, cutting off his reply to her though he could still hear the laughter behind the door.
"…Landaus!"
So a bit more of a deep dive into where Caelus's thoughts are heading, and how it comes off to certain characters. Obviously Natasha stands as the most direct antagonist of Cocolia, having taken on the responsibility of leading the Underworld from the shadows when the latter cast it off to the wolves. As for Serval, I am taking some creative liberties here. While she never outright says she hates Cocolia for what she became in the game, it's clear there will exist some tension there even after she laid that particular demon to rest. I hoped to dig out some of the melanchonly and wistfulness of what Cocolia used to be and highlight that underneath being a deranged foe, she was still a human with her own relationships.
Dunno how well I did but here it is, for good or ill.
I'll admit that some of this seems a bit jarring even after running it through the AI, but that seems to be beyond my skills currently. It is what it is.
Anyway, here's another bit for y'all to chew on in the meantime while I try to get Sabbatical up to speed. Rest assured that when this monstrosity slots itself into my priorities, it's full steam from there.
And I have a lot of plans for this, some many will like and others... well I'll get to that in time.
Till then,
take care.