War of Dawn - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Thoughts Amid The Waters

Date: 1003 After Dawn, November 10th

About six months have passed since Hilda first joined the Corps of Scions and things are, finally, progressing without any major hitches. Her relationship with Owen mended, the two of them have spent the last couple of months after the battle of Bathurst accompanying Ryouma and Vanessa on several assignments. They were still limited to enclaves of varying sizes, though their progress has been enough that the Generals agree that they could take part in operations concerning infiltrated Valnr in cities. In normal conditions, at least, but things have been far from that lately.

Once Hilda and Owen left the infirmary, they were informed of the explosion that consumed Nokor’s enclave – obviously, there’s someone bigger than him still out there. Vanessa thinks whoever it is, is the one who killed Agustín: an upper class Valnr Knight and much stronger than Nokor to manage a spell of that caliber. Thus, the Generals and all the experienced High Scions have been placed on alert in a bid to hunt down this Knight whenever an opportunity presents itself. No such opportunities have been had just yet, though. It seems that the Knight is biding his or her time.

Considering that they’ve no way of divining whether the Knight could or could not be in a given enclave, only those stronger Scions are being allowed to take part in operations revolving around populated areas. It’s safer for the younger warriors and safer for the civilians, too. That doesn’t mean Hilda and Owen are fine with the idea that they’re too weak to help with his mess, though. Together, they’ve redoubled their training since fully recovering and today is no different. By the training ground, Hilda is busily doing push-ups. Per her own request, Owen sits upon her upper back to add weight as he practices new spell glyphs. Having observed it during the battle against the Risen, the first one he worked on mastering was the Stream glyph. And it’s worked out quite well, as evidenced by the speed with which he now conjures jets of flame out of his palms.

Hilda isn’t paying attention to him, sweat dripping off her brow as she continues her push-ups. “thousand forty eight… forty nine… and… thousand fifty! Alright, done!”

“Is that the end of your daily workout?” Owen asks, rising off her back but keeping his eyes set on the large spellbook.

“Yeah, that’s it. How’re things on you end?” Hilda exhales sharply as she dries her face and hair with a small piece of cloth.

“Quite well; I’ve the Stream glyph mastered and Pillar is coming along nicely. You?”

“Aah… Stream is good but that’s it. I’ve been working on something else,” she shrugs.

Owen raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “Oh? Is it impressive enough to warrant neglecting your spells?”

“Calling me out, eh? Alright, hold on a second.” Hilda flashes a quick grin before placing the cloth around her neck and grabbing her sword off the ground.

She takes a look around and spots a line of three dummies on the far, far side of the training grounds. High Scions and upwards can attack at that distance without an issue but Novitiates usually need either long-range weapons like Owen’s or spells like Bolt to do so. Or do they?

Under Owen’s watchful gaze, Hilda takes position. Sword in hand, she charges the lightning elemental and slashes downward, making a vertical mass of electricity manifest and stand still before her. As the blade touches the ground, she takes a small step backwards and follows it up with a one-handed horizontal slash. A streak of lightning emerges from her attack, striking the gathered electricity and merging with it. The newly formed cross-shaped streak dashes across the ground, all the way to the other side of the training grounds and rips through all three dummies in one go.

“How do you like it?” Hilda asks with confidence, propping her blade on her shoulder and giving him a sideways glance. “When I had to cut open that tear in the Risen’s maelstrom thing, I noticed that streaks that touched each other stacked up. Makes them travel farther and faster.”

Owen nods pensively. “Hmm… I can see how it works. The more of an element is gathered, the stronger it becomes. And that is a more powerful ranged strike than a Bolt.”

“I know, right? I just needed time to learn how to get the elements in my sword to stay put in the ground instead of shooting off after the first swing. Now I won’t be stuck with those dinky Bolts as my only option from afar,” she eagerly gesticulates towards him.

“And it’s a fine attack, too!” declares Ryouma from a nearby balcony; looks like he’d been watching them in silence, a wide smile on his face. “Now it just needs a proper name… Juuji Zan...? No, that’s too cliché…Oh! Sourai Zan!”

“‘Twin Lightning Slash’, hm…?” Hilda sighs at him. “Shishou, I might be learning your language but that doesn’t mean I’ve picked up your fancies.”

Ryouma waves his hand dismissively and jumps off the balcony, quickly landing beside them. He takes a look at both Novitiates and seems satisfied with what he sees.

“You two have been working quite hard together, eh? I was worried mine and Vanessa’s increased workload would have hampered your growth,” he huffs happily.

“We can’t well have things get as dire as they did in Bathurst again, can we?” Owen asks Hilda, playfully cocking his head towards her.

She answers back with a confident nod. “Damn right, we can’t.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Ryouma says before crossing his arms and looking at Hilda. “However, I’d like to ask you, Hilda: when did you last take some time off?”

Face frowning with unease as she tries remembering, her mouth moves as if to answer but nothing comes to her. “Er… I think… never? I’ve always had my hands full training and going on missions.”

Ryouma rubs the back of his head and sighs with worry. “And don’t you think it’d be good for you to do so? Why not visit your friends in Litnir?”

Hilda bites her lip and her frown deepens. “I could but… Let’s just say I’d rather not go on a trip down memory lane. I don’t need that heartache right now. Plus, Owen's here training so hard and I've heard Paula's being put through the wringer by some guy. I can’t just run off to relax.”

“Paula’s situation is unique. However, weren’t you the one always egging her to take a break from her many tasks?” Ryouma fires back, poking her in the shoulder. “As for Owen, I’ll have you know that he does relax every now and then.”

“You do?” she turns to Owen, confused. “When?”

He answers with a shrug and pursed lips. “Last month, for instance. While you and Lord Ryouma were out on mission, I took the time to visit home.”

Hilda groans lightly, dejected with his answer. In truth, it’s been nearly six years since she last took time off. She would have done so by now but the problem is that she doesn’t know any towns beyond Litnir… and she’s simply not ready to step back in there as a Scion. Much as she’d like to see Gustaff, Frederik, Edda and everyone else. Maybe she could visit Leona in Almdalir? She hasn’t had a chance to see that sweet child since their last encounter. Would the Zangaris let her into their little hideaway without Ryouma coming along, though?

Ryouma notices her indecision and decides to speak up. “If you’ve nothing in mind, then how about this: I’ve been given leave for a few hours and I was going to visit my hometown. Would you care to accompany me?”

“Is it wise for a General to do so when you’re on alert?” Owen questions.

“Even we are still human, Owen. Lady Eliza understands that, which is why she makes it a point that we at least have a few hours to ourselves once in a blue moon.” He punctuates his answer with a quick wink before picking a Comm. and Gate Crystal off his pouch. “That said, should anything arise, I’ve these to come back at a moment’s notice. What say you, Hilda?”

She doesn’t really have any argument against it, so she throws her hands in the air and smiles faintly. “Well… I guess I could use the rest.”

“Excellent.” Ryouma claps his hands. “Get yourself cleaned up and meet me by the Gate Crystal. And don’t wear anything too heavy – we may be nearing winter but it could still be rather warm down there.”

“Alright, Shishou,” Hilda nods before turning to Owen. “I’ll see you later. And if you see Paula, make sure she knows that if I’m taking time off, she should too!”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Have fun.”

Hilda quickly starts making her way back to her room. She’d completely forgotten the fact that Scions can request to go on leave every now and then. These past months have been such a nonstop string of training, fighting undead, fighting Valnr and healing in the infirmary that she didn’t think of anything else. But, hey, if she’s being given a chance to see a wholly new country, why not take it?

Picking a set of clothes for it might be problematic, however, Hilda realizes as she checks her closet. A Swedish immigrant in the Northern Reaches never really needs to be ready for warm weather. She does have that gi which Ryouma gave her but all her pants are made of wool and her boots are also very heavy-duty.

“…Crap,” she sighs, looking at her small closet. “I guess I’ll just hope being a Scion blocks out heat as it does cold.”

Hilda does bring her sword along, as it’s become pretty much part of her after all this time. Something feels off when walking without it bobbing around her waist. Following a quick dip in the underground lake, she meets up with Ryouma and they’re off through one of Wally’s portals. The building they arrive in is certainly better than the Corps’ simple outposts. The floor is covered in solid, dark wooden planks, joining seamlessly with the lighter colored walls. Sliding panels made of translucent white paper over wooden frames isolate the room; to the side, a similarly made, wide window brings in light from the outside.

“Welcome to Satsuma, Hilda. This is the Corps’ station for this region of the country,” Ryouma says, taking in a deep breath. “Aah… It’s been too long.”

Hilda walks over to the window, seeing the sea that extends far to the west and the many large galleons moored nearby. Judging by the somewhat setting sun, it already seems late in the afternoon around here. Litnir was rather far from the Northern Reaches’ coast, so this is the first time in a very long while that she can behold such a view in peaceful conditions.

“It does look very nice,” she answers, her gaze fixed on the horizon as she takes in the warm, salty breeze. “And this is your hometown?”

“Indeed. Though Valarheim’s been my actual home for several decades, this is still where my heart is.” Ryouma joins her by the window. “The sights, the smells all bear so many memories, you know?”

“Must’ve been nice growing here, if you had this nice view of the sea every day,” Hilda quips, elbowing him lightly.

Ryouma nods with a satisfied huff. “It was, though the view is equal parts beautiful and sobering. What you call ‘the sea’ is actually…”

He opens the window farther, revealing that what lies to the west isn’t the sea per se but a bay that connects to the proper ocean ahead… At least, Hilda initially thinks it’s a bay. Soon, however, she notes its concave edges jutting out of the water and her jaw drops as she realizes what it is.

“Oh, gods… Is that—”

“Hmhmm,” Ryouma nods, with the calm of one who’s more than used to beholding this. “‘Kagoshima Crater’, it is called – one of two that mar Japan’s territory. This town used to be inland, until the land to the west and southwest was eradicated in the War of Twilight.”

“‘Entire regions of the world were simply reduced to ash’… this is what the story was talking about?” Hilda asks, her eyes darting across the crater. The thing must be about a hundred kilometers across.

“Correct. Pretty much all countries have these mementos of the Valnr’s destruction prior to them being sealed within the Northern Reaches. That said, with the passage of time, most people look at it as nothing more than a piece of something long, long gone,” he adds with a rather disappointed undertone.

I guess that's easy to do, when it's not happening at your doorstep, Hilda scoffs lightly at this, thinking to herself.

But Ryouma pulls her attention as he clears his throat and puts a hand on her shoulder. “But we’re taking some time off now, aren’t we? Come, this is a conversation for another moment.”

Hilda nods in agreement, taking one last look at the crater ahead. Despite the obvious damage to the terrain, it’s so hidden beneath the water that you really need to pay attention to the edges to even see that it is there. Still, anyone that comes in from the Gate Crystal is bound to look over and notice it. Maybe it serves as a grim reminder of the Valnr’s presence – and the damage they could do – in the shadows of our world.

Out the Gate Crystal’s area, Hilda follows Ryouma down a small corridor and into the central chamber of the Station. Noticing his presence, the resident Scions quickly salute him and Ryouma answers them back with a smile and an admonition to be at ease. Through the simple wooden chamber, minimally decorated with the Corps’ battle standard, potted plants and some elemental orbs to illuminate the area, they soon step into the city outside. Several small houses lie beside a wide stone-paved road. They certainly look nice, made with wood, earthen walls and ceramic tiles on the roofs – far better than the run-down huts in Litnir.

“So, what do you think?” Ryouma asks her.

“It’s not bad at all. Very busy, though,” Hilda nods as she looks at the mess of people who go about the road.

“Naturally; with that crater bringing the ocean to us, this town has long been one of Japan’s three main ports. It receives ships and goods from so many nations of Asia and Europe. Of course, fishing is also significant.”

Hilda can see what he means, covering her nose as the stench of a few nearby fisheries strikes like a boulder. The port itself lies down to the west – easily spotted by the sails of the moored boats that rise above the houses and buildings. Carts run to and fro, busily transporting not only said fish but also textiles, spices, assorted foods, metals, porcelain and more.

“Have you ever been to Garoar in the Northern Reaches? It’s not too different from this – weather aside, of course!” Ryouma asks while they walk down the street.

“I haven’t but this is about what Gustaff described after his travels there,” she answers, looking at the various items being sold at the roadside shops. That is, until something else catches her attention. “But… is it me or are people staring at us? Is something wrong?”

Indeed, they can’t take a few steps without random passersby looking over with varying expressions – some with bafflement, others with curiosity, fear or suspicion. In particular, they seem to be looking at her and Hilda doesn’t very much like the attention.

Ryouma has noticed it, too, and chuckles wryly in response. “Well, as we knew when you first started your training, a silver-haired Swedish girl carrying a katana around isn’t a common sight. That certainly doesn’t fit with the usual image of a samurai, so they’re likely confused.”

“You’d think they’d know it’s not polite to stare…” she huffs, frowning with embarrassment.

“There’s also the fact that the local feudal lord has forbidden all but his loyal men from carrying a blade. As far as they know, we’re brazenly disobeying the law,” Ryouma shrugs with a yellow smile.

Hilda raises an eyebrow. “What, does that actually apply to us?”

“Not really. Our gods-given mandate is to safeguard mankind and life in this world; we cannot kill innocents but, other than that, we are not bound by the laws of men.” He shakes his head before, looking ahead, and letting out a weary sigh. “…That said, our people seldom leave the Station so the guards are, more often than not, unaware of who we are.”

It takes only a quick gander for Hilda to understand what he’s talking about: a posse of five armed men are coming towards them and they do not look happy.

“Oi, omaetachi! Ken o motsu no wa kinshi da!” the leader yells – indeed, they’ve a problem with their swords.

“Guess you were right on the money. Now what?” she asks Ryouma, eliciting confused looks from the guards as they fail to understand her Swedish.

“We’ll just explain things very clearly,” he answers, taking a few steps towards the men.

They don’t like that too much, as their hands quickly move towards the grip of their own swords. Ryouma raises his hand, turning it back and forth, showing that it is empty. The guards stay on their toes and start to approach him, poised to attack. Seeing that, Ryouma closes his fist and conjures a large flame on the palm of his hand.

As the guards – and nearby people – gasp in surprise, he firmly speaks to them in Japanese. “We are Scions, so can you make way?”

That quickly pacifies the whole group, who are now the ones raising their hands and backing away.

“W-we didn’t know! Please excuse us, sir, lady!” the leader says with a trembling voice before he and his men quickly scamper. The folks around are still blown away by the display, though, whispering between each other and trying to make sense of all this.

“How did he do that? What are ‘Scions’? Was that witchcraft?” Hilda hears so many questions coming from their panicking mouths.

Witchcraft… Are they serious? Unlike the guards, who at least somewhat know that the Scions are a thing that exists, these people go and think they’re dealing with ‘witchcraft'. She figures they’re lucky, not having the fear of the Valnr and the undead as a part of their daily lives to the point that they can be this ignorant. It does annoy her, though – a lot. How many of the common folk around the world are even aware that those monsters still exist in the Northern Reaches? That is, until some necromancers infiltrate their town and the Scions need to rush in, risking their lives. Then, they might remember what’s been hovering above their heads for the past centuries.

“Out of sight, out of mind, huh? Hmph…” she silently spits before leaving with Ryouma, who beckons her.

“Guards around here are quite the hoodlums,” he tells her with a tinge of disappointment in his voice, “spurred on by the feudal lord’s – Ichiro Reizou – enormous power and influence. They can essentially do as they please, without fear of repercussion. That is, until they find out they’ve bitten more than they can chew!”

Hilda wags her eyebrows in agreement, spotting another batch of guards seemingly extorting money off a shop. “Yeah, I can see that… These ‘guards’ are just common thugs.”

“Haha, that denomination is quite appropriate,” Ryouma chuckles lightly. “The Reizou Syndicate is the Asia equivalent of the Zangaris – their direct competitors, actually – only with less of a focus in smuggling and more in the sale of opiates, prostitution and assassination.”

“Oh, that sounds like a great group to have running your town…”

“It’s fine, so long as you kept your nose clean,” he says before turning down a dusty alleyway between two shops. “I’ll show you in just a bit.”

Out of the main road, the pretty, well-organized constructions give way to much more basic wooden homes with thatched roofs. The way they intertwine in a maze of alleyways isn’t too dissimilar to Valarheim’s dormitories. The setting sun has long since stopped hitting over here, with lighting being provided by small paper lanterns. That said, the people do seem to live happily enough. 

Drunkards sing off a nearby bar, housewives exchange the latest gossip and many children play about the dirt roads. Jumping, running and laughing in a frantic game of tag, one of them even bumps face-first into Hilda. A young girl of rosy cheeks, she apologizes before running right off - not a care in the world. A faint smile forms on Hilda's face, the sight of these children tugging at her heartstrings. It feels like an eternity ago but she does remember a bit of life before Litnir, playing the day away with Henrik about pearly-white fields of snow. Simpler times.

Ryouma leads her down so many different alleyways until they eventually come out on the edge of town – right by the crater-bay and to the south of the port.

“Home, sweet home,” he says, pointing towards a medium-sized wooden house sitting atop sturdy stilts by the water.

The place has certainly seen better days, with the wood bits and vegetation used in the roof long since rotted away by the sea breeze. The sliding doors and windows are planked shut and, unlike the other homes, there is no light in or around the place. The only thing that still seems in good shape is the tiny, makeshift port set beside it where a simple rowboat is moored.

“Is anyone living there?” Hilda asks, hoping for a negative answer – the house looks like a dump, even to her!

“No, no,” Ryouma answers, playfully tapping her in the shoulder. “As I’ve been living in the Northern Reaches for decades now, when my parents passed away, it was just left for the elements to claim,”

Hilda’s brow furrows sympathetically, well aware of how it feels to lose a parent. “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I appreciate it but you needn’t worry. They lived well and died in peace, a few years ago. That’s the best end one can hope for,” he says calmly, stepping onto the port with a nostalgic gaze. “My father was a fisherman – the best one in town – while my mother owned a small shop where she sold what we caught.”

“Wait, hold it right there,” Hilda turns him by the shoulder with quite the baffled expression.“You grew up a fisherman? Not a big, bad warrior or anything?”

“Surprised?” Ryouma smiles as he sits upon the wooden planks. “Like you, I hadn’t the faintest grasp of combat before being conscribed. I wasn’t happy to leave that life behind… but I didn’t protest, either.”

Hilda sits beside him, curious. “How come?”

“Despite the Valnr’s very limited reach here, my parents were actually Altrian – they learned the faith off an European sailor. Thus, the three of us were somewhat aware of the Scions’ struggles. To say nothing of our privileged view of the crater.” Ryouma lifts his finger and traces out the rounded edges of the crater about the horizon. “When the time came, I confess that I felt some pride in being invited to join the ranks of such heroes. My parents simply had to make peace with it.”

“Uh-huh.” Hilda gives him a very suspicious sideway glance. “Sure you weren’t just excited with all their cool powers?”

Ryouma looks back with shifty eyes and puckered lips. “…Fine, maybe it was both. But, regardless, I made it a habit to visit home and go fishing with my father when possible. They may be gone but it’s still a favorite pastime of mine. Care to partake?”

“Um, well… I've never gone fishing before but I guess you can show me, sure,” she shrugs.

Ryouma answers with a smile, moving onto the moored rowboat and waving her over. “Alright, then. Hop aboard and I’ll get us to my regular fishing hole.”

They set out into the waters of the crater, as the setting sun continues its descent into the horizon, illuminating the way of the departing galleons. If there’s one good thing that can be said about this “bay” is that, despite its dark origins, it makes for quite the spectacular sight at dusk. The deep blue waters emit in a coppery glow, all but uniting with the orange in the sky. Hilda’s used to only seeing waters covered with so many icebergs, so seeing it like this – a clear, spotless blanket – is certainly different. Not in a bad way, of course. It seems like the fish are just as enthused with this as she can already spot so many different schools swimming around them.

As Ryouma slowly rows southward, Hilda lies down on the boat’s bow and rests her hand on her forehead. A flock of loud seagulls flies overhead, heading inland. As her gaze accompanies them and sets back in Satsuma, her mind starts to wander once more.

“…Shishou, can I ask you something?” she speaks up, rather seriously.

“Anything.”

Hilda’s eyes continue fixed upon the town, watching as distant people move about. “You’ve been a Scion for so long, seen so many different places… Doesn’t it bother you, how indifferent folks are to what goes on in the Northern Reaches?”

Ryouma purses his lips and let’s go of the rows, propping his chin of his clasped hands.

“I always knew that this is how it was beyond the Paling but actually seeing it... The Corps has been holding the Valnr at bay for centuries but the rest of the world doesn’t really care if it doesn’t affect them,” Hilda adds, meeting Ryouma’s gaze with morose eyes. “It just makes me so angry… Am I a bad Scion for feeling this way?”

He scooches closer and grabs her hand firmly. “No, you are just a regular person. I don’t think there has ever been a Scion since the Valnr’s return that didn’t feel that way at least once. And that includes me.”

“But not anymore?”

Ryouma shakes his head silently; setting his eyes to the water, he follows the streaks of sunlight that float atop the waves and speaks up. “Do you know my theory as to why that window at the Station faces this crater? I believe it’s to show that while the effect of the Valnr’s influence may be overlooked by most of the world, we see that it is there. It bothers us and, thus, we want to do something about it. Frustrating though it may be, at the very least the people’s ignorance shows that the Valnr are being contained.”

“And where’s the fairness in that?” Hilda grunts back.

“Where is the fairness in the Valnr invading a nigh-defenseless world, a thousand years ago, and killing over a billion people? Reality isn’t about what’s ‘fair’, unfortunately. We defend all the lives we can, wherever we can, regardless of whether they feel gratitude, sympathy or admiration. We are the only ones who can do so. Lady Eliza keeps the world leaders aware of the situation and negotiates with them. For everyone else, life goes on as usual and that’s how it should be.”

She exhales deeply, sitting back up and running her other hand across her face. “It’s that ‘life goes on’ bit that irks me, as that’s a whole lot harder to do up there. So many have died or have lost a parent, a brother, a sister, a friend to the undead… most folks outside the Paling don’t need to deal with that.”

“I understand but, still, is that reason to dislike our charges?” Ryouma pokes her and asks. “The Valnr are the ones responsible for the situation in the Northern Reaches – they alone deserve your scorn.”

Hilda pouts in response, annoyed. “I know, I know. I’m being petty as hell right now…”

“Again, that only makes you human. Let’s keep going.” He smiles warmly and gets back to rowing.

Leaning by the edge of the boat, Hilda takes in the sea breeze to try and clear her head. She shouldn’t turn her nose on people for not having to suffer through what she did. Would she feel better if that kind of disgrace was commonplace? No, she wouldn’t and it’d just mean more innocent blood on the Valnr’s hands.

“Blah, what the hell’s wrong with me? Stupid…” she thinks to herself.

Ryouma lets her be, as he brings them towards his fishing spot. Ten minutes later, he points out a small alcove that stands within a section of the crater’s southern edge. “I carved this place myself, many years ago.”

Indeed, it certainly doesn’t look natural. The earth and stone seem to have been melted and shaped to form. Kind of a pointless use of their magic but, whatever, Hilda isn’t about to complain about it. Ryouma hops off the boat and lends her a hand to get onto solid ground. Poking around his pouch, he brings out a pebble of Alterium – that is, until he flicks it around and transforms it into a pair of simple fishing rods. After adding some string, hooks and worms, they’re ready to be used.

“Here you go,” he says, handing Hilda her rod. “Just sit down, let it bob around in the water and keep an eye out for bites.”

She slowly takes it, looking at him with a rather baffled countenance. “How much crap do you have inside that pouch…?”

Ryouma crosses his arms and answers with a haughty smirk. “I am always prepared whenever I leave Valarheim!”

Hilda can only answer with a resigned chuckle as she crosses her legs and sits down upon the edge of the water. Despite the lengthy fishing rod, swinging it isn’t all that different from handling a sword – especially with how light it can be due to the Alterium. The hook flies off, quietly splashing into the water as Ryouma moves beside her and does the same. Hilda keeps her eye on the line, ready to pull it over at the slightest provocation. Despite the bait, however, the fish aren’t biting. The minutes slowly pass by and it doesn’t take too long for her to mind to go elsewhere. With the rod in one hand, Hilda starts drawing glyphs and possible strategies on the earth beneath her. Ryouma doesn’t seem to be paying much attention, sitting immobile with his eyes shut.

As Hilda doodles, he speaks up. “You just got a bite.”

“What?!”

With a panicked yelp, she jumps back up and hastily pulls the fishing rod, manipulating the Alterium to speed up the process. It’s still not good enough: nothing’s on the hook, not even the bait.

“Oh, come on…” Hilda grumbles.

Ryouma chuckles at her reaction, opening his eyes to look at her crumpled visage. “Fish are smart. If you get distracted, they’ll easily slip by you.”

“Yeah? We’ll see about that…!” she sniffs, charging a bunch of lightning on her left hand.

“Hey, now, that’s cheating,” Ryouma wags his finger at her. “Don’t tire yourself maintaining a constant watch on the rod; just keep it handy, close your eyes and relax. You’ll feel when you’ve a bite.”

“Fine, have it your way…”

Hilda slumps back to the ground and flings the baited hook back to the water. Following a sharp huff, she closes her eyes and sits still. Her clenched jaw sends a crystal clear message to Ryouma, though.

“You need to learn how to turn it off, Hilda. At least for now, forget about the Valnr, our duty, the people, training – everything besides this. Letting all your worries go and just enjoying where you are is what I love about fishing.”

Hilda hums an affirmative and takes a deep breath. While being a Scion is so much more fulfilling than waitressing, every day feels like non-stop rush hour, serving incredibly demanding patrons. And with the added bonus of either having people die or ending up in the infirmary following any mistakes! But, indeed, Hilda sees his point.

Exhaling, she tries fading out all the little voices in her head. They can all wait until later. For now, she focuses on the sound of the crater's water splashing against the earth, the singing seagulls up above, the wind swooping through her hair. Breathe in and out once more, as every single heartbeat echoes through her. In comes a small tug in the fishing line and she yanks it over as quickly as she can.

Too soon, unfortunately – the fish wasn't hooked yet. Hilda calmly sends the line back in and empties her head once more. She'll keep trying for as long as can be. Regardless of whether she catches anything or not, one thing becomes clear as she sits on the ground: she might not be too good at fishing but this is the most relaxed she's been in about five years.

At the end of the day, that seems to be the most important thing to be deriving from all this.