Tears spill from L’Arachel’s face as she runs away from that damned mockery of a contest, a mad scramble to get somewhere, anywhere that does not have these suffocating crowds; each and every person within them surely seeing her as naught but an absolute failure.
She manages to exit that horrid party, the feeling of cool air faintly registering through her frantic thoughts.
Trying to take a moment to breathe and calm herself, she instead tenses up as she hears her name called by…
Oh Latona, she does not even know who Eirika is to her right now. She wants to say friend, she wants to say close confidant but…
She feels her shoulders stiffen as what should be a comforting hand instead causes tension; she tries looking Renais’ Queen in the eyes but as her vision becomes blurry and her heart aches with a pain so terrible, she finds herself unable to.
Eirika claims she understands if L’Arachel does not wish to speak, and a small exhale of bitter bemusement escapes her, one that could easily be mistaken for her body shaking from emotion. She understands nothing. How can L’Arachel stay silent when one of the reasons for her pain stands in front of her?
No, silence is not an option here.
“I do not know how much Ephraim has told you about our time in the academy. There had been a mission some of us volunteered to; entire worlds inside mirrors, each housing ‘supposedly’-” Bitterness drips from every syllable of the word. “-dangerous prisoners, ones that needed to be exterminated for the good of the continent.” She believes that story less and less. She knows not what the church’s real reason is, mayhaps they had their reasons. But they could have left the world of Fortuna alone. She is certain of it.
“This world was fantastical, Eirika. Massive metallic carts, galloping through roads at terrifying speeds. Boxes that showed images, similar to those movies they had been displaying today, that allowed you to access vast swaths of information at a mere moment’s notice. So many wonderfully trifling ways to pass the time. This outfit is from that world, meticulously recreated as a way to keep its memory alive.” She pauses, taking a deep, shaky breath.
This is her last opportunity to back away, to simply claim she is mourning that world and everything about it; the truth, but not the whole truth.
But although her body is shaking, L’Arachel of Rausten is no coward.
“When we entered that world, we seamlessly became integrated into it. All of us who entered became as they were at fifteen years of age. Even that vile fool Valter.” She cannot help but slightly chuckle at the memory.
“Me and another fellow from this academy, the world had made us into siblings. And… whilst mostly absent and distant…” L’Arachel locks eyes with Eirika again; an attempt to force herself to finish telling the tale.
“I had a mother again, Eirika. For a brief, brief moment, and mayhaps not real at all, but I had a mother again. And then that world crumbled and once again, I am left without one. And that… that would be acceptable. That would be fine. I could manage, I would brave it, I would carry on like I always do.” She tries to put on a brave face, but it is a poor, poor facade.
“I met two people today, Eirika. Two people I did not think I would ever see again. The Fluorspar was the first one. We exchanged terse pleasantries. I wished her well, despite it all.” She sighs. Even now, even as she feels all the raw pain associated with these sudden revivals, as her heart feels like it is bleeding, she cannot help but hope that Selena can carve the best life she can.
“The second one was Lyon.” She says, voice terse.
“The second one was Lyon and you knew. You and Ephraim, you both knew! And you did not tell me! Despite everything that happened in Magvel, despite what his return could mean, despite the fact that we are supposed to be allies! Friends!” She knows she is yelling, she knows she is making another scene, but she cannot stop herself.
“Why would you not tell me?” Her voice breaks, and she feels so, so very small. “Have I not been a good enough friend? I know I can be a lot, Eirika. I know not everyone enjoys how grandiose I can be, just how confident I am, or how brash, or, or…” She hiccups, and takes it as a sign that her point has been made.
“...I thought you and Ephraim understood me. Out of everyone, everyone I know, I thought you two understood me and accepted me like none other.” It takes all of her strength not to start crying in front of Eirika; she does not need to embarrass herself even further, bare her heart even more to someone who may not even care.
“...I had so much to prove, with the dance. I wanted to honour the world that no longer exists. I wanted to prove how incredible I am. I wanted to shine so bright that you and Ephraim could not ignore me.” She laughs weakly; just how foolish that had been.
“Instead, I simply made an utter buffoon of myself; losing any respect I may have had, and after all of this, surely losing who I thought was a friend as well.” She tries to end it with some dignity, calmly moving to sit down on the ground, legs crossed together, head buried in her hands.
