The entire time she spoke, the man just sat there, eyeing his nails and smirking as though he was above every scathing word. He was so distant from her, in fact, that he barely noticed when she pulled out the blanket and didn’t see it hurtling towards him. He made a displeased noise on impact as it draped over his entire head, and for the first time, Celes smirked her own satisfaction. Then the moment passed and he grabbed it furiously. Their eyes met and for the first time, Celes found something there other than smug indifference. Something dark. Something vicious. He raised a hand, and Celes’ good arm flew instinctively to her sword, but nothing came from it. Silence passed between them, his fingers twitched, and like a switch being flipped, his expression cleared. Celes kept her hand on her sword until his hand was safely lowered again, and she eyed him carefully even after that.

Had he tried to cast magic?

He grabbed the blanket and stood, wrapping it around his waist and tying it at the side so it wouldn’t slip. Something in Celes breathed a sigh of relief, but it was drowned by whatever it was she’d just seen. What exactly had gone through his head? Had he considered killing her? She didn’t like it -- not in the slightest -- and the return of his haughty indifference didn’t help anything.

”My, my. What tempers the common folk possess.” Celes felt her fingers twitch into her palms as the man positioned himself on the couch. He berated her for her apparent belief in karma (it had been a joke, or couldn’t he tell?) before suggesting that the problem was her. That she was weak. Unable to adapt to change. Her lips thinned at his suggestions, so wrong and misguided and utterly ridiculous. She hadn’t led armies against the last independent holdout on the continent because she’d been weak. She hadn’t joined a rebellion against her own emperor because she’d been unable to adapt. Celes let out an uneven breath between her teeth.

Steady. Keep yourself steady. He’s not worth the trouble.

He sprawled backwards on the couch, laid across it like he expected to be painted. ”How quaint,” he began, cocking his head in her direction. ” You speak to me with such disrespect and have the nerve to tell me how my speech should be, and all this after I extended a helping hand.”

”A helping hand?” Celes stared at him in utter disbelief. Did he honestly think he’d tried to help her? When? Her mind reeled even as he tossed a dramatic hand to her and stood again. Is that what he’d been trying to do? She played back the conversation in her head, slower this time. He’d berated her for reacting to his body and complete lack of shame. He’d suggest she come join him by the fire. And he’d…

Had he offered to help her arm? She blinked and glanced at him again. All of his smug pretense had completely burned it from her mind.

He dismissed her again, telling her that she didn’t matter so long as she didn’t plan to stand in his way. For once, Celes held her tongue except for a quiet snort of laughter beneath her breath. Why on earth would she ever stop him from leaving? He didn’t seem to notice, and instead busied himself in a cabinet, wrinkling his nose at a can of something before struggling to open it. Celes crossed her arms and watched, eyes burning with amusement.

It was like he’d never used a can opener before. The task took him far too long, and once he’d gotten the jagged shard of metal of the top, he poured it out with a delicate and awkward hand that seemed far too concerned about the positioning of his nails. He hung the whole concoction carefully above the fire before sitting in front of it and eyeing the flames. ”Maybe your red hot temper could melt the snow about us and we could depart sooner.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, but Celes let it slide off her with a single twitch of her lip. She took a breath, a deep one, and let it out slowly.

”You know, ’common folk’ are good for more than our tempers.” Celes walked to the fire and peered inside to make sure he hadn’t somehow made a mistake. Since the task was nearly foolproof, he hadn’t, but she still reminded him to ”Watch the fire and make sure you don’t dry it out,” anyway. Then she walked to the window and eyed the wall of snow beyond it carefully.

”I don’t know if I could use my temper,” Celes said as lightly as she could manage, ”But my magic should do just fine.” She glanced back at him, fixing him with a look that carried more heat than she meant it to. ”If we wait for the snow to die down, then I’ll melt a path out of here. You can go your way and I can go mine. I wouldn’t want to impede you, after all.”

Celes turned to consider him, sitting there half-naked by the fire. She glanced from his long and silky hair to his long nails -- chipped where they’d clearly once been painted. She’d known men like him before in cities like Vector and Jidoor, and she’d hated every one of them. It wasn’t his confidence or glamor that bothered her -- Setzer had owned both of those in spades -- but rather his complete dismissal of anyone but himself. Celes took another breath to steady herself.

Whether she liked it or not, she was trapped her until the snow stopped. Shouting wouldn’t make it go any faster and it wouldn’t exactly improve the night for her. Maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t known what he was doing. Maybe he lacked the social awareness of a child, and maybe a man who went around referring to “common folk” wasn’t used to handling criticism.

The sight of him still made her skin crawl, but maybe showing that wasn’t the best tactic for her at the moment. Celes felt her lips thin as she sat by the fire, leaving a healthy two foot gap between them. She didn’t want to give this man anything -- let alone the benefit of the doubt -- but it was better than fighting until morning. So long as he kept his distance and tamed his tongue, she’d do the same.

”I’m Celes.” She glanced at him before quickly looking away again, lips as tight as ever. ”Since we’ll likely be sitting here until morning, you might as well know my name.” She pushed back her hair irritably and tossed it over her shoulder. ”I used to be a general. I can be a little…harsh when I’m surprised.” It wasn’t an apology. She’d never apologize, but it was something. Hopefully enough to appease him.

She touched at her shoulder -- still useless. Still throbbing in pain. She bit her tongue and grasped at her elbow. Could she get it back at this angle? ”If that offer’s still on the table, I guess I’ll take it,” she said, though the words soured on her tongue. ”Have you ever popped an arm back into socket?”

ulla

The boy didn't let her down. As the monster's head reared, Celes caught the warm tinglings of magic and a shimmer only inches above her. By the time the dragon could dive in for the kill, its teeth met only a hard, invisible wall. The force of impact was like a freight train against concrete. Celes could have sworn she saw tooth enamel breaking before the beast recoiled back with the weight of its own blow. Celes didn't waste time gaping at the spectacle before her. Instead, she drew her sword, ready to descend upon the beast, to finish it in one-

The air around her changed. Celes had less than a second to react to the sudden charge around her and the subtle hint of ozone. Her eyes widened and she hopped back just in time to avoid the thunderous crash from above. She raised her arms against the light of it, the super-charged air, the draconian screams as flesh burned and jerked to the strings of unworldly power.

It struck from above, that light. Searing, sizzling, power. Then came the smoke. Smoking, twisted flesh. The screams hard and jagged like laughter.

Celes rocked unsteadily on her heels, hand trembling as she lowered it from her eyes. No, no, it was just a thunder spell. Just a third level thunder spell that struck the beast while it was vulnerable. Its eyes were glassed over now, hind leg twitching with life it no longer had. It was just a spell, and one she'd used herself at that. Nothing to get excited over. Nothing to lose herself over, and yet...

And yet that smell...

”That’s one down, with however many to go. Are you alright?”

Celes could hear the grin on the boy's face. She heard his triumph and victory, but her stomach just curdled at the sound. Was she alright? Of course she was. It was just a dragon. Just another monster, no matter how deadly. She had a sword in her hand. She was almost on her own -- just how she'd wanted it. So why couldn't she make a sound? 

Weak. Of course that's how she'd look in front of this boy now. He'd think it was the dragon that had scared her. That she couldn't handle it. Stupid. Weak. Why couldn't she get a hold of herself? Celes took a long, trembling breath before nodding and fixing him with the best apathetic look she could manage. "Of course I am," she said, but the words didn't come out quite right. Too breathy. Still unsteady at the edges. "It was just a dragon."

Stupid, stupid. He'd see right through her! But it was the best she could do. The smell of burnt flesh still lingered in her throat like bile. And in the back of her mind, there was still that flash. The earth, shuddering, nearly swallowing her hole. The fall. That laugh.

The Light of Judgment.

Above them, there was movement. The other dragons must have noticed the first dragon's fall because they'd all taken to the air now like a flock of deadly birds. Celes' lips pursed at the sight of them, but at least it gave her an excuse to fight rather than talk. Her magic surged with her pounding heart, and she thrust herself forward, hands clasped and eyes steely in concentration.

As she faced the oncoming hordes, she cast ice spells -- not thunder, only cold, safe ice. Her breaths slowed with the timing of her incantations. There was no harm in the cold. Only her own power and mastery of magic. She hardly heard the strikes land, the panicked screams of the dragons, the fluttering to evade as their enemies closed in on them. There was only Celes. Only her own spells. Only her own muttering.

And as their enemies swooped down for the kill, there was only the sword in her hand and the quiet thrill of life or death combat.

ulla

The man came to help, but not without an unwelcome addition. ”I assume you can walk on your own, heroine,” he muttered as the woman’s weight lifted from Celes’ shoulder. Celes recoiled as though she’d been slapped.

”Excuse me?” She shot the man a sharp and deadly look, but he’d already nodded and started ahead of her – the woman and someone else (an old man? It was hard to tell) on his back.

”If not, I’ll be back for you in a minute,” he added before charging back into the fire.

Celes stared after him in disbelief. ”Wait, where are you-?” she started, but he was already gone. Celes looked at the back door again, so close in front of her. Still closed. Presumably not leading to anything else dangerous. She’d only wanted him to hold open the door. And he’d grabbed the unconscious victim of smoke inhalation and dragged her right back into the flames.

Celes’ lips pursed. What on earth was he thinking?

Rather than follow him, Celes clutched her hands together, called on her magic, and threw open the locked backdoor with a well-placed spell. The gust of fresh air was like healing water on her lungs, but she didn’t stop to enjoy it. Instead, she bolted out the door, into the street, past a partially burning alley, and came back around to the front of the store. She’d thought that the front entrance might be a better vantage point to reach him if he got himself stuck in the flames. Instead, she found the man standing in the middle of a circle of bystanders, all praising him for his heroics, all gleaming with relief. Celes’ lips pursed. Oh, they had to be kidding!

Celes marched forward with daggers in her eyes, lips pursed, fists clenched. She pushed aside one of the man’s new adoring admirers and glared up at him challengingly. ”What was that?” The words came sharp even with her roughened voice. She cleared her throat of the smoke’s damage before grabbing at where her sword should have been (touching instead at her hip) and giving him the kind of look that would have wilted unruly soldiers in Vector. ”Were you thinking at all? Or were you too caught up in ridiculing me?” Her lips straightened into a thin line as she tossed her loose hair behind her ear. ”In a situation like that, you find your allies and work with them. You could have died! Or worse, let them die. Maybe you think you’re above working with anyone, but you're not.” Her eyes narrowed. ”You're just reckless.”

ulla

To Celes’ surprise, the boy didn’t ask for her help. Instead, he just crossed his arms, looking almost smug before telling her that he was exactly where he meant to be. Celes blinked, looking him over again, before realization hit her like a truck. Of course. From his odd colorful clothes to his confident demeanor to his white hair, she should have known that he wasn’t from around here. A second look also proved him to be older than she’d first assumed – somewhere between fifteen and seventeen if she had to guess and only a few years younger than herself regardless. ”My name is Hope Estheim,” he said as though to confirm her suspicions. ”And I am talented in the use of magic.”

Celes felt her mouth open, but no words came out. What should she say? An apology? An explanation? She couldn’t make up her mind quickly enough to say anything at all.

”I’ve come here on the behalf of the villagers,” the boy continued. ”An answer to their pleas of getting rid of the dragons. They informed me that someone else was on their way to clear ou the tower, but it seemed very well like it was the job for more than one person. I assume that’s you?” The boy – Hope – dropped his arms stretched out his shoulders. ”If it is, it’s probably best if we don’t’ stand around. Who knows when those dragons will take another child as their next meal?”

Celes stared at him for a moment, waiting for her thoughts to catch up with her before her lips pursed uncertainly. ”Right,” she said. ”We should keep moving.” She turned before he could see the heat at her cheeks, and started walking again before she could say anything that would embarrass her later. Why had she spoken so quickly?

Of course someone his age could help fight a dragon. She’d never asked Relm her age, and Gau was as unknowable as he was feral, but they were both still children likely younger than whatever prey the dragons had taken. How often had Celes herself been dismissed for her unexpected age and gender in the Geystahlian military? She’d hated it then and looked upon those who’d doubted her with utmost disdain – yet here she was, doing the same thing herself. Stupid. Why had she judged him so quickly?

”I didn’t realize you came from off-world,” she said in what was almost an apology. Even her explanation sounded ridiculous. Off-world? Even after all this time, she couldn’t rid herself of the absurdity of it all. ”The people here wouldn’t know the sharp side of a sword. I didn’t realize…” She trailed off without anything else to say. She felt her cheeks flare again.

”You use magic?” she tried instead. It was such an odd conversation starter that her tongue almost curdled around it. It wasn’t anything she could have said where she came from, at least. Not in a reality where magic was a dangerous and mythical art derived from the blood of espers. ”That’s…different.”

The word felt flat, even to her, but what else could she say? The context of it all was too foreign to her. The reality too changed, and she couldn’t shake off the shame of her earlier mistake. It hung from her like an invisible weight – you are everything you once hated.

Why was she so bad at casual conversation?

ulla