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@estelular
★ ESTELULAR , when i was little, i loved hearing stories. but stories are just that: stories. the real world is much more brutal… a closed & affiliated roleplay blog for estel of fire emblem shadows, a golden deer student affiliated with the officers academy. as written & beloved by darcy ( 18↑ + they/them )
NAVI ★ ¹ dossier. ² stats. ³ writer. ⁴ plotting. ⁵ thread tracker.
faint light
⤷ non-mission task: infamous ( reason +1 ) // fes book ii spoilers ahead !
( fes support spoilers )
Joachim flinches in the face of Estel's tune changing. The sad look she'd been wearing one moment shifts so quickly, bringing back the harder edge of her voice— the same tone she'd used that fateful day in the forest. Even as she looks fully human to him, the vestiges of her shadows come out.
It's that conversation all over again. His voice catches in his throat, the same neck he imagines might be snapped if Estel really loses herself.
(Is this the girl Estel really wanted to become?)
It's easy to go down this line of thought, thinking and fearing the worst. He'd already seen her transformed before his eyes once, and in hearing her voice here again, knowing his own shortcomings, he'd assumed this might be the case. There's no shortcuts to miracles, and if there are, they are merely temptations set by the Demon Wolf.
Estel really must be consumed by the shadows still then. But despite knowing this, confirming it here again, he doesn't speak a threat.
“But I'm not the person you used to know either, Estel.”
He merely speaks a rebuttal. He tries to keep his tone even, but he can feel his heart begin to hammer.
“Remember when we spoke about dreams with Teacher? I said I only wanted to keep living together with you all. You and Teacher first thought I was being modest... but I really didn't have a dream other than not wanting anything to change,” Joachim speaks slowly as he reminisces, putting one hand over his heart. “Change scared me back then. I won't say it doesn't scare me now too but... I have a different dream now. The old me wouldn't have wanted to go out fighting or traveling, but I found my reason to do all those things. I found my reason to be brave.”
He straightens his back, standing tall.
“I want to be brave for you, Estel. I've never wanted you to give up your love for those stories. So I'll make you believe in them again,” he pledges, thinking of the copy he brought with him even to Garreg Mach. The Rabbit Hero, though burnt, hadn't been consumed entirely by the flames. “You were the one who brought me back to the orphanage when I ran away... So I'll pay it back.”
He's not often forceful, not between the two of them, but he takes his approach now, bridging the gap between them on this field until his hand can take hers just like she had taken his when they were children. He wills his warmth, however much he might have, to seep to her just as hers had touched him all those years ago.
“I'll be the one who brings you back to the light.”
naturally, it’s not all cold, unfeeling shadow in there. no matter how her own shadow has consumed her, no matter the new conviction she holds and the truth she believes in her own words, she is still estel at the heart of it all. yes, many things have changed, but this part, at least, remains the same.
“ugh—joachim, hold on!” her eyes go wide, her cheeks flush. he always manages to say just the right thing to make her embarrassment rear its head, doesn’t he? geez, who wouldn’t blush at a declaration like that?! she ducks her head in response, though she doesn’t pull her hand away. “seriously, you...!”
he says he’s not the person she used to know either...and maybe it’s true. yes, all along, estel has wanted to protect people, to ensure they could keep smiling no matter what. and joachim, of course, was one of the first people she wanted to do it for. but he doesn’t really need her protection, does he? not anymore. she knows that he’s skilled in his own right too. in the time they’ve been apart, he’s surely only grown stronger. he might even be able to beat her in a race this time.
but the important parts of him? estel thinks those are all the same. going out to fight or travel... what did it matter if he did or didn’t have those sorts of dreams? if everyone dreamed of being a hero, who would be left for the heroes to protect? no, the most important part—maybe, even, the only important part—is that no matter what, joachim still has his kind and gentle heart.
if, one day, he ever lost that...
that would be the day estel thinks she could really and truly say that the person before her was no longer the joachim she knew.
“you know, i think it suits you,” is what she finally says to him when the red color has faded enough from her cheeks for her to lift her head. “maybe more than it ever suited me.” it seems ironic, doesn’t it? the rabbit hero and the kin of fenris, their expected positions reversed. her, turned to the shadow; joachim, turned to the light. but maybe this is the way it was always meant to be. “if you’ve found a new dream for yourself, then i’m happy for you.”
she genuinely is, of course. naga or fenris, light or shadow—but before all that, joachim had simply been her dearest friend. he still is, no matter how she claims to have changed. because why else would she have fought so hard against the shadows that consumed her? just a little bit, just a little longer...just long enough to ensure he would kill her before she could hurt him or their teacher.
she knows it was not a kind mercy. even her final act had been selfish.
“but...” and here, her gaze shutters again, going dark. no matter the parts of her that might still seem the same, the truth is irrevocable: shadow lingers in her heart. her hand pulls away from his. “...what has the light ever done for us? in the end, it didn’t save anyone.”
the way the wind blows.
★ herald, axe +1 — shigure & estel.
"...!"
at the interruption, shigure startles so abruptly from the bench that he nearly sends his paints clattering to the floor. a wide-eyed blink, gaze briefly flickering up to the visitor's long, pinned-back ears — and then, hesitating briefly, he closes his sketchbook and calmly sets it aside.
"I don't work here, but I think the smith is out shopping for her festival outfit." might as well ditch work and party, is what she had really said, dejectedly over her beer when shigure had clocked out two hours ago. according to her, business had all but completely dried up over the past few weeks.
no one can fault her for being downcast, of course. but if people no longer needed sharpened blades, if they chose peace and celebration over violence... isn't that only a good thing?
shigure smiles politely, a little at a loss. "I can help you find her, if you're in a hurry," to go... where? his questioning glance seems to say.
estel jumps at his sudden startle in the corner of her vision too, whirling to find him sitting there. but alarm quickly fades to an unamused furrow of her brows when he speaks, another sigh dragging itself out of her as she briefly flicks her gaze back to the sign.
it really does feel like its mocking her.
that’s not his fault though. the rabbit offers an embarrassed smile as she turns back to him. “no, it’s all right. i can wait—i’m not in a hurry.” well, it doesn’t really seem all right from the way her gaze still shifts back and forth between him and the closed door, but she’d hate to bother him. “and sorry for startling you.”
estel shakes her head. “it’s just been...a frustrating day.” that’s one way to put it, at least. a hand rubs idly at the back of her neck. “you know, you’re the first person i’ve met that hasn’t just started going on and on about how excited they are about the festival. it feels like it’s all that anyone talks about these days.”
her voice raises a fraction, though she presses on without seeming to realize, “i mean, that’s why i’m here too, but—!” and there, estel catches herself, cutting the sentence off with yet another sigh. “...sorry. it just feels like no one has been taking me seriously all day.”
two steps forward, one step back.
★ infamous, the white heron cup — bernadetta & estel.
it is the easiest job on this month’s list. heron cup over murder mysteries aside; dodgy, reclusive bernadetta has been through the same song and dance long enough to know what she can get away with under her caretakers’ noses. the church had been adamant: her marks were her business, her attendance was her business, and goddess forbid they even ask of the catastrophe that had become of her interpersonal relationships, but she would be put to work like everyone else here. and that was just fine.
“it’ll be fine, bernie. the flyer said a golden deer student. golden deer! and last you checked, those don’t have feathers.” she's babbling to herself, trotting down the monastery's paths and sticking to the walls as closely as she can. but when she finally enters the training hall, there are neither feathers nor antlers waiting for her lesson. no; instead, there is a quite literal pair of rabbit ears on the head of one of the prettiest girls she thinks she's ever seen. they're so fluffy. they're so cute. they're—
bernadetta leans very, very slowly to the side, peeking past the girl to stare at the arrow landed perfectly on the bullseye.
hm. they might be as deadly as the normal rabbits she's used to being chased by.
“uh,” she says a bit dumbly, stiffening back to attention. she doesn't mean for her voice to come out as a squeak, but squeak it certainly does. “y-yes?”
get it together, bernie! a quick shake of her head, then she clears her throat and tries again: “i mean, yes! for the, um, rehearsal. i-i'm bernadetta. i might not be the best teacher, but i'll try my best...”
and a finger points toward the training target. is she being serious, or is it a weak attempt at a joke? “a-as long as you promise not to do that to me.”
do that—? her head swivels to follow along with the point of bernadetta’s finger. when she sees what lays at its end, however, estel can only laugh.
“oh! no, no—you have the wrong idea.” lifting her right arm, bow still in hand, she taps against the white leather of her bracer with her left hand. “i’m a hunter! the only thing i shoot at is game. and you look pretty human to me, so there’s nothing to worry about.” well, what passes for human here in fódlan, at any rate.
but she still sets her bow aside, unclasping her quiver from her hip to set it down nearby too. after all, she’ll hardly be needing them for these lessons, right? estel closes the distance between them in long, easy strides, hand offered out to shake when bernadetta is within arm’s reach. humble village in the mountains it might have been, teacher had still raised her to mind her manners. “nice to meet you, bernadetta! i’m estel.” her head tilts, curious. “you’re not a golden deer student, right? i don’t think i’ve seen you around.”
whatever house bernadetta’s from doesn’t really matter to her, though. she hasn’t even fully wrapped her head around the need for their existence to begin with. she was told something about how they’re each meant to represent one of the countries in fódlan but, well. even with an arrow aimed at her head, estel’s not sure she could even name one of them.
“i have to warn you, though, i really don’t know the first thing about dancing.” there had never been a reason to learn, so why would she? still, she plants both hands on her hips and grins. “but i’ll do my best! i’ve always been a quick learner.”
a beat. her smile falters a little. “so, uh. where do we start?”
borrowed time
⤷ ethereal ball 2026: cont. from here. ( post-white heron cup )
Estel's clear disappointment that she didn't win does some work to loosening the knot of tension in Joachim's stomach. He'd approached her somewhat more stilted even if no less sincere in his words, but when her immediate response is to pout over her loss, he can't help but think how very like her indeed. If she'd won, would she have puffed her chest and basked in it, just the same as he remembers her cheerily indulging in her successful hunts?
Win or loss, she's a child at heart. No fancy steps or clothes he's never seen on her before could quite change that, could it?
Such ruminations opens his heart to speak a bit more at ease even as the proverbial elephant in the room remains with them.
“I feel the same,” he tells her, the polite smile he'd been wearing falling. “I couldn't have imagined either of us anywhere but at the orphanage with Teacher our whole lives. So this has all felt strange to me too.”
Joachim tugs on the loose knot of his tie, tied for him by someone else earlier tonight. He stares at it, knowing if he were to fully undo it, he's unlikely to be able to redo it. So his hands let go before he can unravel it, looking instead back to the rabbit.
“...Estel, do you want to have a race?” He gauges her reaction as he continues on, “It'll be like old times. We can get away from this ballroom and find somewhere with a lot of open space. We'll be under real stars, not just the ones we used to put up.”
@estelular !!
“a race?” she parrots on autopilot before the words properly process in her brain. when they do, her expression shifts into something akin to a child just told they can have their pick of anything they want in the world. disbelieving, yes, but more than anything: hopeful. because could something that seemed so impossible and absurd possibly be true?
estel laughs, loud and hearty, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “are you sure? i’m probably still faster than you.”
but the gap between them really hadn’t been that wide, especially as it was bridged over the years by time and practice. in the time they’ve been apart, joachim’s probably only gotten stronger and faster too, hasn’t he? she’s tried to keep up with her old routines too, but some of them have fallen to the wayside since arriving in garreg mach.
after all, all she needs to do to have food on her plate these days is make her way to the dining hall. she doesn’t need to hunt it down. she doesn’t even have to cook it herself unless she finds herself on cooking duty! life is easier here than it’s ever been, yet it still sits a little strangely sometimes.
for all she dreamed of being a hero, the only life estel realistically ever imagined for herself was one where the three of them continued to live together at the orphanage, too. every good hero needs a home to return to, don’t they?
she banishes those thoughts away between one blink and the next, then flashes joachim a grin as she drops into a crouch start. “okay, i’ll count it for us. going on one... two...”
a deep inhale, then exhale. “three!”
ode to the virtuous.
★ herald, authority +1 — skoll & estel.
unlike most people, estel does not balk at the sight of wolves.
people say all sorts of things about them, of course. she’s heard the stories. aren’t they all raised on them? but growing up with one for a best friend, one learns not to jump to conclusions. to estel, wolves hadn’t been fearsome and loathsome creatures. they were kind boys who tended to the fields and whose hand she could hold all the way home.
this one, though, still makes her steps come to a screeching halt.
blue hair and wolf ears... her hackles raise, alarmed. just because she doesn’t assume the worst of them at first sight doesn’t mean she refuses to heed the warnings. not everyone is as kind as her friend. indeed, very few people in this world are.
“you...?” but it’s not the wolf that had met her in the forest. at the same time... it couldn’t just be a coincidence, could it? she had only met the one, but when joachim spoke of them, he said retainers...
but her eyes fall onto the invitation in his hands and she has to blink and do a double take. and people looked at her like she was insane for wanting to prepare her bow and arrows for the festival? clearly estel wasn’t the one going mad around here!
her mouth opens before she can even think twice about it. “hey, what do you think you’re doing with that?!” she demands. / @sollvarg
faint light
⤷ non-mission task: infamous ( reason +1 ) // fes book ii spoilers ahead !
To Estel's commentary about the house leaders and their capes, Joachim weakly replies, “Yeah... that's right.”
It's a normal enough conversation, but it's not enough to really soothe his spirit. Even if she didn't need it, and maybe she really was being truthful in not letting it get her down, it still weighed heavily on his conscience. It's another sign that things were moving forward, farther past those halcyon days he treasured.
Doffing that cape and letting it burn was too close to the way their home burned too; one day, would nothing be left from that place anymore, each one of them too different?
He doesn't know if he'd gotten himself too lost in thought, but he jolts back to reality and out of that melancholic storm when Estel asks him a more direct question— at last, they stop dancing around the elephant in the room.
And unlike the weak response he gave earlier, this one is as strong as can be. “Huh?! No, I...!”
But he can't finish it. He knows it, how it's not as easy to claim as he might want it to be. The silence that falls softens his voice again, jumping shoulders sagging, all as he tries to figure out just what it is he wants to say.
“...I don't want to. The thought of killing you again hurts,” he starts again, slower this time. “I... I want to save you. I'd hoped to use my wish to bring you back to the light once I'd become a disciple of light.”
But he's not one yet. He surely can't have satisfied Naga with how little he's done for her.
Yet, right before his eyes, right here and now, Estel is here anyway.
“oh, joachim...”
there’s something sad about her expression, ears lowered and brows downturned. why? does she mourn the life she might’ve had alongside him and their teacher? does she wish the light had found her first instead of the shadows? does she long for days long past that now slip through her fingers before she can even try to catch hold of them?
no, it is simply that estel has already resolved herself. back then in that bloodied forest; right now in this charred field.
“do you really think you can save me from the shadows?” isn’t that what heroes do? but those stories feel like such faraway things now. no matter how she longs for those simpler days, she can no longer reach them. “i didn’t regret it; i don’t regret it. if you gave me the chance, i’d probably just do it again.” she shakes her head. “and if the light stands in my way again—” the light, she says, not you. not you, because the answer would be different if it was joachim barring her path. “—i won’t hesitate to break their necks.”
the girl he’s trying to save... is it the one standing in front of him? or just his memory of her?
“...i really loved those stories.” it is not a confession he needs to hear. he knows this already, of course. “but...the hero saving the day from evil? bringing smiles to everyone’s faces? they’re just stories, joachim. they’re not real. reality is far too cruel for that.”
“i don’t want to fight you either, but...” no, she doesn’t want to stand across from him again, blade raised to level at his throat. just the thought of it hurts her, too. but, “...i told you: i’m not the person you used to know. i don’t know if i can ever be her again.”
the way the wind blows.
★ herald, axe +1 — shigure & estel.
in truth, estel envies them.
the eager murmurings about making plans for the upcoming mission—or trip, depending on who you ask. relaxed smiles that turn to raised brows and even frowns when she asks for directions to the nearest blacksmith because, why on earth would you need to go there?
she prefers her bow cleaned, her bowstring waxed, and her arrows nice and sharp. but the question they’re really asking, she knows, their eyes staring daggers into her back as she departs in the direction they begrudgingly point her in is: what could possibly happen at a festival?
anything. anything could happen at the festival. all it takes is a simple strike of a match for everything to go up in flames.
but when she arrives at the blacksmith, it’s to find the front door boarded up and a sign mocking her with its big, bold letters for even thinking to come. an irritated huff punctuates, “seriously? why are they closed?” / @pastbelow
blank pages.
★ herald, any skill +1 — yuni & estel.
the orb in her hands feels far too heavy for its size. it rolls from her fingertips with the slightest shift of its weight in her palm. rolling, rolling, rolling—until it finally crashes loudly to the ground in a hundred glittering pieces.
estel stares wordlessly at its remains. what might she even say?
even she had not thought her massacre a beautiful thing. the only beauty in it was the relief it brought her. yes, at last, relief. if the light couldn’t stop them, then she would take matters into her own hands. they wouldn’t be able to harm anyone ever again.
would it have been enough for her to see those wicked bandits locked away? she’d known the answer all along, maybe, but it is still another thing entirely to witness the truth of the matter firsthand. why would they deserve mercy when they’d chosen to give none?
she does not turn her head to look at the light’s retainer now. indeed, she does not lift her head at all from the shattered pieces of the orb—of those childish dreams of hers, too, maybe—on the ground.
her hand pulls to her chest, curls into a fist, then falls uselessly away. “do you think there’s justice in the world?” because in this world and even another: “i don’t know where to find it in the light.” / @dolusol
[ SPARKLING WATER ]
"My apologies if you would have preferred champagne instead." Kurt says as he offers a glass of water. "It seemed in poor taste to hand someone who bested us alcohol, even if the competition is over with now."
There is something else he wants to ask, but his finger's curl around his own glass. It might be better not to know, to spend the rest of the night thinking only about what a pleasant time it had been mingling with everyone.
"If you don't mind me asking... where is your homeland? There aren't very many of us" —a playful tug of one of his dog ears— "in Fódlan at the moment."
“i’ve never had champagne before,” estel replies, “so i can’t really prefer something i’ve never tried.” plucking a hyacinth from her bouquet, she offers it to him in exchange for the glass. “i do like water, though. thanks!”
besides, whatever is in good or poor taste doesn’t mean much to the rabbit. if he offered her champagne, she wouldn’t have even blinked. her teacher raised her to mind her manners, of course, but what need had there been for fancy propriety and all up in their village? having food on the table and her family by her side was all she needed in life.
something about his ears and tail do set her the slightest bit at ease, though. it really is a little off-putting, but she figures it’s just as odd to mention their absence to the locals here as it is for estel’s to be brought up to her—not that it’s stopped others.
“but it really is strange, right?” she laughs a little, her own ears twitching a little as she does. “i’m from a little village in the mountains of tournu, so i’m still trying to get used to everything myself.” the ears? the academy? fódlan? all of it, really. her fingers tap idly against the side of the glass as she tilts her head and smiles. “i’m estel, by the way. i guess there wasn’t really time to introduce ourselves during the competition. how about you? where are you from?”
It's strange to have been searching for someone the entire night, and finally when he'd been on the verge of giving up, he finds her. A part of him runs protective (of whom?, a seed of doubt within him begs to ask) but another merely roots him to his spot. He stands there, watching her from a distance with his breath caught in his throat.
There in the White Heron Cup was his friend, lit up by a spotlight. She's a bit clumsy, tripping at one round, but she prevails nearly to the end. He hardly knows dancing, but he can tell her heart is in it anyway. For a moment, it's like he really is watching some semblance of her from a long time ago. Upbeat, determined, and friendly Estel.
(Can he really... pretend?)
He watches until she's been eliminated from the competition, and once she's taken her leave, he approaches her. “Congratulations, Estel,” he tells her, hyacinth already ready in his hand as a gift for her in tandem with his praise. “I didn't know you ever learned to dance, but you did amazing up there.”
“i didn’t win, though.” estel knows it’s childish to say but she can’t help it. maybe if they had just lost in the first round it would have been easier to stomach, but they were so close. it’s hard not to be a little disappointed. “and after all the work my dance teacher put into helping me too...”
but joachim came all this way just to congratulate her. she’d wondered if she would even see him at all tonight—and he appears just like that. so she musters up her best smile for him, accepting the hyacinth and fetching one from her own bouquet to trade. “but thanks anyway, joachim. i guess there’s always next year, right? i’ll have way more experience by then.”
next year. after everything that’s happened tonight, the thought seems impossibly far away. without the adrenaline rush of the white heron cup to keep her mind and heart racing, there’s everything else to think about. she thought she might start over in fódlan. instead, she’s run into the very people she wished she would never have to see in her life again.
did he know that both yuni and erma were going to corner her like that tonight? even as estel thinks it to herself, it sounds ridiculous. she knows firsthand that joachim can’t lie, not even to save his life. could he really be here congratulating her with a straight face if he did?
“i like your stars,” she says instead. can’t she pretend too? just once, just tonight, without all the thinly veiled threats and painful reminders of the home she can never return to. “they remind me of those pajamas we used to have back at the orphanage. we’d put those stars everywhere, remember?” but her expression still dims a little, looking out over the reception hall. pretending is hard, and estel is tired. “...honestly, i’ve been feeling out of place here all night.”
How fitting, for an archer to immediately snipe for the weakest point—for someone who so willingly bathed herself in the darkness to justify herself through comparison and contrast, in the lowest and most hurtful way she could.
Yet Erma will not step down to that level. She will not scream back, nor will she fold to the sniping and goading. There is truth in it...
But also falsity, twisted by emotion.
"I am here for the protection of my lady." She responds coolly, "And to protect him, as he resolves to walk the path of light. We travel together so that we might shed light on the darkness of the world, and save all that we are able. Judging by your presence, our being here is no mistake."
Yet, it was a conundrum. Estel was here, alive. She saw Joachim strike her—saw her die. His reason for seeking Naga's blessing was in great part due to his desire to bring her back.
...Here she stood. Eyes flashing viciously, still clouded with Fenris's influence. Surely, this is not the way he would have wanted to see her return.
"Failing to reach your village is a regret I shall carry for the rest of my days, as with every other person I have failed. And I am sorry that I, we, all of the holy knights, failed you all." Whatever softness had slipped into her expression at that apology soon hardens again. "But you have also made a choice, and with it comes certain consequences you will have to live with."
If there were any onlookers staring at their exchange, Erma intentionally ignores them. Estel was the one making a scene. "And in that, you would be wrong. I have apprehended and put away countless beasts and criminals. I will do so again." Her voice lowers, only for the other to hear, "Do not give me reason to do so to you."
the set of her jaw hardens. to protect them—what, from her? a few minutes ago, erma hadn’t even known she was here. these people were impossible. estel hadn’t raised a hand against yuni. she would sooner lay down her life again than try to harm joachim. even faced with erma, she swallows down the temptation no matter how it claws at her chest and throat to be freed.
estel wants. isn’t it human, to want? she wanted, once, to be a hero like the storybooks. she wanted, then, to get revenge on the people who tore away her home. she wants, now, to be left alone. but she’s not allowed anything she wants.
what reason do they need? what reason are they even looking for? is it just her existence? estel hadn’t asked to be alive any more than they want her to be either. she had surrendered her life to her dearest friend and expected to die, knowing that even if the valiant heroes of her childhood stories weren’t real...well, maybe joachim, too kind and soft-hearted for his own good yet still brave when it mattered, might be as close as it got.
do they think she will stand in his way, if he seeks the light? then they do not understand her at all. she will only be glad that it finds one of them. that maybe his dream, even if never hers, might come true.
“what reasons could i possibly be giving you people? your lady was the one who approached me first. you were the one who bumped into me.” even joachim, when they met upon that scorched field, she had not sought out on her own. she hadn’t even known they were all here. she had come here to never see any of them again. “if i had it my way, all of us would just be enjoying the ball in peace. if it’s enough that i don’t agree with you, then why don’t you go tell the staff all about me already, then?”
estel exhales sharply. “all you want to do is talk. we talked then; we’re talking now. but i’m not going to convince you of anything and you’re not going to convince me either. so, what do you even want me to say? because i won’t say i’m sorry and i won’t say i regret it.”
"A... student." Erma repeats, as if to try and process the ridiculous remark.
A known shadow disciple, allowed to roam free amongst innocents? Everything in her—in what she's known, what she's been taught, what she's seen—could not abide by that. She could not let happen to this place, to any other place, what happened to her village. "I do wonder how inviting the staff would be once they learned of your affliction."
She was a victim of the Shadow, yes. Preyed upon by Fenris. Lady Yuni was correct in that. But she felt no remorse for what it caused, what it lost her. She huffs and exhales, like an impatient child angry about a scolding. As if her precious time was being wasted, when her mere presence here was a matter of life and death.
The knight would not be swayed by the act, or let her guard down.
"Fine, then."
Erma steps closer to Estel, their shoulders brushing again as she speaks close to the rabbit's ear. "What are your intentions here? Do you seek Joachim? Or are you biding time? The retainers of Fenris do not seem to be here at the moment, but if you have appeared, it is entirely possible for them to follow. Once they order you to maim and kill, you cannot resist—"
Memories of Erma's childhood friend flash in her mind. How she so brutally slaughtered neighbors, family, friends. And how she dazedly and innocently forgot it all. How it led her to lie about all of it.
"So why would we simply leave you be?"
again, these thinly veiled threats. again, the shift of the blame. they make two peas in the same high and mighty pod, don’t they? estel is the one that can’t resist when they were both the ones who came at her first? she hadn’t even done anything. she was here to enjoy the ball!
there’s a flash of pink in her eyes, there and gone so quickly that it might have been a trick of the light. of course, erma would know better—and estel does too.
kill her. kill her now, and you won’t have to deal with this.
it would be so easy to. the knight may not have her weapon, but estel doesn’t need hers to tear her apart.
she grits her teeth, takes two steps back to put distance between them. no, she won’t. estel doesn’t want to—it had never been what she wanted, but none of them understand that. was she looking for joachim? she had resigned herself to never seeing him or their teacher again. was she biding her time? what would she even bide her time for? no, of course not!
“i came here because my home is gone,” she snarls and doesn’t care who hears. “my home is gone, my family is dead, and you were the one who was too late to save it. and you want to ask me what i’m doing here? what are you?! if you’re that worried about fenris’ retainers, then you should be back in tournu hunting them down!”
while they’re here arguing circles in fódlan, what is happening back home? is there another village that won’t have a knight to save it? will someone just like her turn to the shadows in an attempt to protect their home? maybe they’ll be more successful than her. maybe their home won’t be burned down and their family won’t have to die.
but these what ifs mean nothing to estel. it is far too late for her. “you both have some nerve, don’t you? but when it comes down to it, what have you even done?” she scowls. “i’ll answer for you: nothing.”
Erma's eyes dart about the room. It was far too crowded to start a fight, not that she currently had her weapons on her. Estel, however... shadow disciples were vicious even without a sword or spear, on account of their monstrous forms. And the holy knight highly doubted she mutilated that bandit group with a mere bow and arrow.
But she doesn't attack, for now. Merely questions.
"What I want does not matter. Why are you here?" Her voice is low, hushed. Though their staredown was obscured by the darkness of the room, she didn't wish to give any more reason to draw curious eyes. "You should have been..."
Was this why Lady Yuni had been reflecting on Estel all of a sudden? Had she seen her here?
...Had Joachim?
erma wants the same thing that yuni did, then: to talk. estel tries to swallow her sigh. don’t they ever tire of talking?
it’s better than being attacked, of course, but she wishes they would just leave her alone. they may not agree with her actions, but estel does not regret what she has done either. no matter what they say to try and convince her otherwise, she will never regret it.
“i was invited,” she answers, a little petulant. “i’m a student here—they invited all of us to the ethereal ball.”
obviously it’s not what erma is trying to ask, but she doesn’t know the answer to that question any more than the knight would. she should have been killed—she had been. the scar from it still throbs in pain some nights as though she needs a reminder of it.
and then she wasn’t dead. whether it was some miracle of light or shadow, it’s not like she can say. it’s a miracle too little, too late anyway.
estel exhales. after arguing with yuni, she’s just tired. “look, i already told lady yuni to leave me alone and she did. so, again, what do you want?”
to dance again
White Heron Cup - Match 14
As the night goes on and Finn continues to advance through the ranks of competitors, he finds it harder and harder to believe that this is not some sort of elaborate prank waiting to laugh in his face.
The next pair bears at least a portion of familiarity. His eyes linger briefly on Ananke, his head bowing when their eyes briefly catch. How funny to have enjoyed a dance together, only for it to be a premonition to this moment.
Up until now, his lead has been consistent, but simple. That has done them well, but...surely they will not allow such mediocrity to continue to rise? Is it not owed to his partner to try and ensure that she continues to win, even at his own expense?
It is with this in mind that Finn braces himself, taking a deep breath as they wait for the next song to begin. It is with this in mind that Finn takes the lead once more. And it is with this in mind that Finn almost immediately steps against her path and nearly bumps into his partner entirely.
"Ah." How embarrassing. He's quick to correct, steering them back into the same simple and boring steps from before. "My apologies again, I...I seem to have gotten ahead of myself."
He hopes none of the others are watching...He has yet to see them over his partner's shoulders, though the ears do get in the way. "I didn't accidentally hurt you, did I?"
@estelular & @macnaradhaigh & @cervanke
well, it was only a matter of time. they’ve only just met, after all. the fact that they’ve managed to stay so in sync so far seems lucky.
luckily as well, estel has always been quick on her feet. she is quick enough to adjust, sidestepping before they can collide then resuming their usual steps.
“oh, i’m fine,” she’s quick to assure when he apologizes. a little surprised, maybe, but hardly hurt. “i’ve hunted boars almost twice your size before. something like that isn’t enough to hurt me.”
her ears slope forward a little as her head tilts to the side. “but you apologize a lot, don’t you? you really don’t have to. here, if you want to try something different...” adjusting her grip to make it easier to move their arms, she smiles up at him. “when the strings start up again, do a quarter turn to the right and then we can spin together to the other end of the dance floor, okay?”
their scores for this round probably won’t be all that great, but estel tries her best not to let her disappointment show on her face as she counts under her breath to keep the timing of her steps right. it’s not her partner’s fault, after all, and he’s already apologized to her so many times tonight.
besides, it’s not over until the song and dance are done. so she’ll give it her all until then!
TOTAL SCORE: 14.5 @macnaradhaigh & @cervanke
★ the ethereal ball 2026, @argentiia — erma & estel.
[ SLIP-UP ]
The dark does not bother Erma.
Not in the sense that she lacks fear of what lurks inside it—for with Shadow, there is always something to be afraid of. For it was the den of monsters, criminals, murderers; those who hide their vile intentions, only to unleash them on the unsuspecting later.
It terrifies her.
But it does not stop her. The dark does not impede Erma's sight greatly, and thus she moves forward, no matter the obstacle. She follows whatever faint light she can latch onto, so that she might...
(The crowd is thick in the dim ballroom, and her shoulder brushes against another. An apology is uttered, gaze shifts towards the shadow, and rabbit ears are the first thing to enter her sight.)
...be a light for others to follow.
"You are..." Erma tenses, her hand inching towards her waist, only to remember—she hadn't brought her spear with her. "...Estel..."
children are warned to be careful of the dark. the shadows are where the monsters lurk, after all.
but even as a child, estel had never been afraid of it. no, she would face the darkness with her head held high and her bow at the ready, to protect all those who could not protect themselves from what lurked there. as all good heroes should.
she may be no hero now, but as it was then, as it is now. the rabbit weaves through the crowds with ease even in the dim lighting. her eyes may not be as good in the dark as joachim, but she can still see better than most fódlan folks if the numerous people who have almost or already tripped into her is any indication.
“coming through! ‘scuse me!” when her shoulder brushes another, the apology comes automatically—“oh, sorry!”—before she even turns to see who she’s bumped into.
and when she does, she jerks back immediately like she’s been burned.
frankly, estel hadn’t really thought that yuni would cause a scene in front of such a large crowd. like naga’s retainer had said: they were on a different continent, with different rules, and even a different goddess. she doubts her status would have done much to save her here if she chose to strike her down.
but her knight? in the darkness? doesn’t it seem like the perfect cover? the heel of her boot scuffs against the ballroom floor as she takes a half-step back, eyeing erma warily. she doesn’t appear to have her spear, though that doesn’t mean she can’t be concealing other weapons. how quickly could estel defend herself if the other tried to attack?
“you...” a frown curls on her lips. “...what do you want? i already said if you leave me alone, i won’t do anything.”
in over your head.
★ the ethereal ball 2026, continued — yuni & estel.
It's an uncomfortable relief that washes over Yuni. That Estel does not immediately wish to slaughter her is reassuring—any other disciple of Shadow would have leapt at the opportunity and made it clear. Yuni's dereliction of duty is right after all. But simultaneously, Estel's refusal to renounce her choices tells Yuni that she is still under Fenris' claw, some way, somehow.
"Then I'll leave you alone." The 'for now' is unsaid, but implied. The cruel fate of those who choose to jump from heaven is that they will eventually crash into hell. It is only a matter of when and not if Estel will succumb to her Shadow. The worrying part is that the rabbit does not seem to think of herself as a predator.
Was that her fault, though? The nature of Shadow is that it deceives everyone around it, including itself. How can darkness know its true depths if it has yet to reach it?
Yuni glances to the side. The other dancers have departed. It's just her and Estel now. She takes a step to the side, ready to depart as well, but not before speaking.
"And..." The words linger in her mouth for a while, rolling around her cheeks like a venom she has to spit out, "I don't think badly of you, Estel. That's the truth."
Whether or not she believed it was no longer Yuni's problem.
The disciple dips her head, turns her heel, and walks away. The lights in the ballroom shift, and the unmistakable creak of doors and partitions being moved fills in the rhythm of Yuni's footsteps. She draws further and further away from Estel, not daring to look back.
Ah... she should talk to Erma.
END.
