If only he knew what Selenie had heard, even before her unwilling transformation. Being a lowborn in Ishgard was a hard life, and the only real way to escape was to claw your way into the Temple Knights, and perhaps even the Dragoons, like Selenie had. When she succeeded in that goal, insults of her heritage had mostly faded… though in all honesty, it was probably more for her fearsome skill and temper than any actual respect.
It was fear of harsher, more cruel insults that led her to run away after her forced transformation. Not necessarily the words themselves, but the idea of being beaten, tortured, reduced to nothing again, and then finally executed… not to mention all of those horrendous lies she’d fought for with such zeal for all of those years… she couldn’t stand the idea.
Oh, the irony, she thought, that she would be a key part to ending the very war she’d fought in so valiantly. There was still tension, but there was also peace. Still, she had no desire to spend much time in her former home-not when she knew what many thought of her appearance.
“Alright, good to know. Sam it is!” She acknowledges, smiling. The man wasn’t really threatening in appearance alone, but Selenie knew better than anyone to not judge by appearance alone. Alisaie and Alphinaud both looked rather delicate, but dear gods could both of them fight, especially the former. She did have Maltet and Dragonfire Dive if it came to blows, though.
“Haha, a stick indeed!” She chuckled again. “Doubt you could do anything serious to me with that-even if you could get through my Trueblood Mail-the proper name for my armor, in case you’re wondering-that thing wouldn’t have a prayer of penetrating my scales. Like I said, don’t start anything, and there won’t be a problem.”
I’m not as bloodthirsty as I used to be, she didn’t say.
She sighed at his question. It was inevitable, she supposed. But how to answer? She didn’t want to tell him about the truth of the Dragonsong War….
“It’s… rather complicated, and to be fair, I honestly don’t understand the full extent of my… condition, I suppose you could call it.” She wasn’t lying-she truly did not completely understand the exact details of how consuming the tiniest amount of blood from a dragon could force a transformation of someone whose bloodline was diluted by a thousand years’ worth of generations, but what in the hells did she know of such matters- “If we’re going to be honest here, I’d also rather not talk about a good portion of my past. Let’s just say things happened, and I ended up becoming an adventurer. And then, some time after that, I got in a tangle with what you might call a demonic fire god of sorts. I killed the swiving bastard, and ended up being labelled a bloody fucking hero for that.”
And she hadn’t even gone out hoping to fight Ifrit Himself-it just ended up being either she killed Him, or He killed her. And she had no intention of dying anytime soon.
“Fast forward a good few years, and I’ve killed many other gods, driven back the Garlean Empire-conquering Imperial arseholes who love their damned magitek-on multiple occasions, and even helped take back two nations from those bastards. But don’t let any of that scare you off, Sam. I’m not some goddess-just someone who’s really good at fighting that happens to have a few tricks up her sleeve.” She finished, eventually making her way to a tree and leaning up against it.
“How about you? What exactly are you? What’s your story? Can’t imagine it’s as complex and maddening as mine, but I’m curious nonetheless.” She asked, looking at the Hyur-esque man.
“Don’t start anything,” she says, and she doesn’t have to tell Sam twice. The thought alone of what she could do (against everything he cannot do) is intimidating, so it doesn’t cross his mind.
It turns out the question he’d asked draws a more complicated response than he was expecting. He was thinking more along the lines of --- a species name, perhaps, but it only makes sense that it should come with a bit of an explanation. He isn’t going to complain, anyway. Whether it were written down or told orally, he’s sure to take interest in whatever stories Selenie and her homeland have to give. That’s one of the better parts about being trapped here, really --- the people in this city come from other worlds entirely, and although the (potentially infinite) degree of possibilities is a little overwhelming to think about, it makes for a lot to learn about. It might not be useful knowledge if it has nothing to do with his own known world, but it is interesting.
So he listens, eyebrows furrowed, in a bit of awe at how casually she shortens what sound like extraordinary events. Killing gods...? It does sound like he’s facing a goddess here, but if she insists that she isn’t one...well, she must still be a prodigy of sorts.
It certainly puts what feats Sam holds onto to shame, or so it seems in the moment.
“Uh...” He needs a moment to decide what to say, while still letting Selenie’s words sink in. “Well, no, probably not,” he agrees with her first. Her appearance compared to his is proof enough that she’s the more interesting one, he thinks, so of course his story is going to correspond.
“I’m just... a human?” He doesn’t mean to sound like he’s questioning himself, he just isn’t sure if she’s heard the term. If not, he wouldn’t even know how to explain it. “The son of a lord. I was sent to a place called Castle Black to become better at fighting,” he half-lies, since he was more so sent there to die and be forced out of his inheritance rights, “but that never happened, although I... did kill an ancient evil being that was thought to be gone for thousands of years. And an enemy in battle.” Both of those kills were out of pure luck, but he won’t say that either. As always he’s choosing to mention the things that might sound most impressive, though he won’t be surprised if she’s like everyone else who doesn’t believe him. At least it’s worth a try. “People called me ‘Slayer’ for that. But not in... a good way, since they thought it was all folly. They weren’t wrong to. I was no real use fighting or defending anything at large, so I traveled elsewhere---with two people very close to me---to train as a maester. A scholar. I didn’t get terribly far before I was brought here, but... that’s all I’ve got as a human, I suppose. My wits.”
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