✽ "A god?! No, I -- I couldn't possibly become a God! Someone such as myself is unfit for the title. I'm merely a dancer, and mediocre even in that respect. Oh, Gods ..."
Small hands pressed against either side of Olivia's face, covering a complexion of red. How could such misfortune befall one person? A shaky breath left trembling lips. A simple-minded dancer at heart, she had no right to place herself among deities. In such a strange place, no less; this certainly wasn't Ylisse any longer.
Besides the fact, where were the Shepherds? Last she remembered, Olivia was huddled around a bonfire with her fellow companions, sipping apple cider and listening to Maribelle pluck a gentle tune on a harp, ever sweet to the ears. Distress washed over her like a tidal wave, stormy waters flooding the planes of her mind.
Olivia started forward into the crowd, recognizing nary a face. Many gazed at her knowingly, as if her presence and purpose had been announced for all to hear. The flush enveloping her face deepened. 'Oh, please, let the Earth swallow me whole ...'
"Chrom; Robin; anyone? P - Please," she called out to the masses, every wavering syllable rung with a shed of hope.