Xehanort is surprisingly accepting of her explanation, nodding thoughtfully and forgiving her fairly quickly. It surprises her, but he'd always considered her to be skittish so hearing that she'd had a previous bad experience with someone like him does not come as a surprise to him.
It's Eraqus who is the problem.
His eyes on her are sharp and unforgiving.
In hindsight, that is what made Xehanort forgive her so quickly. He wanted to placate Eraqus. Eraqus who remains mistrustful of her intentions for some months yet, acceptance slow to come.
Nora makes excuses again, this time because her presence makes the usually friendly boy much sharper than normal. She knows that it's him who is the heart of the friend group and doesn't want to sow unease.
It takes a whispered confrontation and a more heartfelt reasoning form Norna - still not the full truth - (plus some nudging from Xehanort) before things calm down.
Needless to say, everyone else is happy about it.
Norna still doesn't intrude on their class, but now she no longer avoids it.
She's an island in a storm. Alone, immovable, as the winds cast all else astray.
Elpis speaks only when she has to and avoids her reflection. It haunts her in a very visceral way, but she had not noticed it until she ferried all the battlefield survivors she could find here, to this new place.
She is not aging.
She looks ten. She's looked it for a good while.
Only a few of those she personally saved are still around, old age taking them. They welcome her into their homes, among their children and grandchildren. Where she plays the part of a grandchild of a friend. The difference too large to pretend to be a younger sister still. That too...would be far too painful.
She holds Asteria's hand as she helps her carry the groceries. Her self-given duty. She saved these people, they are hers to take care of. Blaine does his best, but he is only one man. Not even he will live forever.
But Elpis might. (She hates that)
Her heart constricts.The terrible abyss of loneliness looms on the horizon.
She keeps it to herself. There is nothing to be done. Her form is that man's creation, who knows what foul things lie inside this unchanging shell. Elpis is too scared to discover, to scared to risk notice from him or Luxu.
Did he still blame her? Did he still think she hated Xehanort? Did he think she was lying?
Elpis withholds a sigh and sees herself out with a mild goodbye, there is no need to give either of them a warning as to her plans.
Elpis decides to give one last try, one last attempt.
Xehanort has been more cheerful lately, his heart unclouded, there might still be a chance, no matter how precarious the situation. He has already met that man, she can tell by the blight on his Heart, but there's still hope.
She clenches her fists. There must be. Elpis thinks about the two boys she's still hiding from them and purses her lips. This is the last time, she cannot afford more.
It is only natural that trouble can't be avoided forever.
Lira's skill in thread work only grows and soon enough she is sought after among nobles as well as royalty. While she takes care to observe formalities and not become a target of their friendship - too visible, too easy to find - her sons are too energetic to restrain themselves.
They make friends with the Queen's children.
Not the eldest two. Ansem and Aric - future Ansem the Wise and his older brother- ones she avoids to the best of her ability; her sons make friends with their younger siblings.
Loire and Leven. Brother and sister pair, perfect partners in crime for her two growing hellions.
Luckily for her neither the Queen or the elder siblings seem to mind their antics and soon enough Sigurd and Sven become a common sight within castle halls.
She watches, waits, for faces of her past to show up. He two old friends, the observer, either, both…
None do.
Safe for now. Still, she makes sure to remind her sons to keep their names close and only use the ones everyone knows. It takes stern talk, a few tears and a minor fight, but she manages to impress the seriousness of it on them.
They are young yet, they will understand...though she hopes that they never do.
If that creature never turns it's eye on them, she could die happy.
Her mind flashes to her book and she grits her teeth.
Her sons thrive, they're vibrant and alive. Happy and safe. She could ask for nothing more.
Still, she goes through her book, looks at the patterns and readings, flexes her power, carefully, slowly. She must not draw attention of the wrong party. Be that her old friends or other observers.
Her eyes always catch on Ephemer's page, on Hermod's. Elp-Lira cannot help herself. When her mastery of craft is sufficient, when she's certain it won't harm them, she'll craft them the most exquisite vessels, thread work intricate, something that cannot be unraveled.
She doesn't know how she managed for her children. Half instinct, half desperation, but she made them as perfectly as possible. It took a lot out of her, it is only due to magic that all three of them survived for she could not move for a good while afterwards.
Lira closes her book.
She remembers being unable to look away from them, unable to move, thinking that any moment now their hearts would cease to beat and that her precious miracles would stop breathing. She didn't sleep.
They survived.
Luckily all her fretting for their health is taken as young mother nerves. She cannot really say that they are not. She is a young mother and beset by nerves.
Lira sighs and raises, bringing her tea with her. Takes a sip.
Lira Arace is a young woman with children to care for. An exceptional seamstress when she applies herself. Needle and thread as easily manipulated as another limb.
Her thread work becomes the talk of housewives in water garden quarter. Lira finds herself invited to tea parties, gets offered jobs, makes contacts and connections.
She takes it all with gratefulness and humility. So when the time comes to escape notice of her old friends she gets a job at a remote location, working of an elderly Lady, with nary an offered comment. Her group of seamstresses and knitters are protective of her and her young sons.
The ritual had been a blessing. Allowing her to age, allowing her to become Hermod's peer, age-mate, at least visually. Now it's an obstacle, a body she cannot change with thought and focus.
Luckily there are tools for such things.
Elpis does the same as before and mimics one close to her Heart. Not as perfectly as she did before, but it's still visible in the darker tint of her hair, leaning to blue, like Hermod's. Curl of her hair relaxing and obscuring her eyes further. Her eyes grow bluer than before with help of lenses, but Ephemer's green still seeps through making a nice blend.
She looks at her hands.
Nothing to be done about the skin just yet. Elpis grabs her newest set of cosmetics and sets to changing her features as subtly as possible.
Best way to hide is in plain sight.
Little by little she changes her hues, her features and tone of voice.
A mixed blend of Ephemer and Hermod. A brother she wanted and a lover she had.
She manages a smile.
People accept it, look and stare sure, but it becomes the new normal.