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6/7/2025, 10:43:35 PM
>>6254414
“Yes!” Soralisa nods sharply, her still-sore hands gripping her plate in a vice, how much as she can. “Especially considering how ancient it was! Heretical or not, it deserves to be studied, and perhaps even cherished. After all, who knows where your Master even found it!”
“Must have pilfered it from some Anthilian noble’s bedroom,” Rubida grins, her blue eyes glinting. “Many of the great houses still possess relics like that, even if it’s against the law. And nine out of ten must be forgeries, anyway. There can only be so many ‘skulls of Saint Kishirra’ around, don’t you think?”
“She felt a connection with it as well,” you add. “She knew Saint Bragia.”
Soralisa gasps, while Rubida sets her lips in a hard line, scratching her chin.
“Then this makes even less sense.”
“How so?”
You lean back, cuddling in the middle of your two friends. You have missed this.
Oh, how you have missed this—
And to think that just a few cycles away Soralisa did not dare look you in the eye, and Rubida would tease you without mercy.
Your eyes shift towards an empty spot next to your three—
An empty spot where a girl with a long brown braid would be grinning at you, and trying to explain why in her world the roads were all grey and coarse and reeked like rotten eggs.
“How so?” You ask again, fretting to go back to the present moment.
There will come a day when you meet Willow again.
“If we assume this is a political power play on Astoria’s part,” Rubida explains, picking up a stick to draw a few lines into the sand, “then the presence of a Knight of the Gerofalco is already something highly unusual.”
“I remember how shocked you were.”
“You have yet to understand the gravity of her presence, Candente,” Rubida lowers her voice. “She is not even supposed to exist. The Foundation Wars were far less peaceful then the recounts would say.” Her breath hitches. “The Holy Land is a land of plenty now, but it wasn’t always like so.”
“T-There would be commentaries about that—” Soralisa tries to interject, only to bite her lips and look away, seemingly embarrassed.
“Truth belongs to the winners,” you muse, finishing your broth. “They would not have won if they did not deserve so. I see no fault in this.”
[cont.]
'God is always on the side of the best artillery' - Napoleon (and Argia Candente, apparently)
“Yes!” Soralisa nods sharply, her still-sore hands gripping her plate in a vice, how much as she can. “Especially considering how ancient it was! Heretical or not, it deserves to be studied, and perhaps even cherished. After all, who knows where your Master even found it!”
“Must have pilfered it from some Anthilian noble’s bedroom,” Rubida grins, her blue eyes glinting. “Many of the great houses still possess relics like that, even if it’s against the law. And nine out of ten must be forgeries, anyway. There can only be so many ‘skulls of Saint Kishirra’ around, don’t you think?”
“She felt a connection with it as well,” you add. “She knew Saint Bragia.”
Soralisa gasps, while Rubida sets her lips in a hard line, scratching her chin.
“Then this makes even less sense.”
“How so?”
You lean back, cuddling in the middle of your two friends. You have missed this.
Oh, how you have missed this—
And to think that just a few cycles away Soralisa did not dare look you in the eye, and Rubida would tease you without mercy.
Your eyes shift towards an empty spot next to your three—
An empty spot where a girl with a long brown braid would be grinning at you, and trying to explain why in her world the roads were all grey and coarse and reeked like rotten eggs.
“How so?” You ask again, fretting to go back to the present moment.
There will come a day when you meet Willow again.
“If we assume this is a political power play on Astoria’s part,” Rubida explains, picking up a stick to draw a few lines into the sand, “then the presence of a Knight of the Gerofalco is already something highly unusual.”
“I remember how shocked you were.”
“You have yet to understand the gravity of her presence, Candente,” Rubida lowers her voice. “She is not even supposed to exist. The Foundation Wars were far less peaceful then the recounts would say.” Her breath hitches. “The Holy Land is a land of plenty now, but it wasn’t always like so.”
“T-There would be commentaries about that—” Soralisa tries to interject, only to bite her lips and look away, seemingly embarrassed.
“Truth belongs to the winners,” you muse, finishing your broth. “They would not have won if they did not deserve so. I see no fault in this.”
[cont.]
'God is always on the side of the best artillery' - Napoleon (and Argia Candente, apparently)
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