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Marigold	ETRURIA PROPER, NEAR THE MISSUR PENINSULA      Just past where a river pours down from the mountains.      For a few tense hours, the only focus is on putting distance between Roy's army and Knight-General Perceval's. You left Myrddin with the general, but there's no reason to trust your safety to the prince's silver tongue.      The wagon rattles along mountain paths in the night. The two pegasus-riding sisters ascend to check for signs of pursuit, then hurriedly descend when wyvern riders scout overhead from the northwest. When camp is finally made, after hours of rushed travel and a quick fording of a river (if nothing else, Cecilia has an ice magic to freeze a bridge that can hold a wagon), everyone seems contentedly exhausted.      Only Thea and Shanna are denied the chance to rest. They're dispatched south, to act as messengers to rally Cecilia's forces from Missur's mountains. If they can be brought to bear against Galle, with an unsupportive Douglas at his back and perhaps even Perceval riding against him, surely Bern won't stand a chance.      The lull, then, where everyone is settling in and a fire is being made, has the flavor of a victory even as a little tension remains. 'We've made it this far,' people are saying, with their faces and their bodies. 'There's light on the horizon now.'
Marigold	Given the late hour of the night, some people are unsure whether to bother setting up tents at all, but Marcus and Merlinus set an embarrassing example with their industriousness, and scare several other people into helping. No sleeping rough tonight.      Echidna (relaxed) and Larum (distinctly uneasy) sit closest to the fire, throwing together a hasty stew with salted meats and grains. For once they're deprived of their stabilizing funny-little-guy third. Clarine leans on Klein, finally having found weather cool enough for her flannels, and looking immensely smug about her map-help besides. Lucius sits on a makeshift log-bench not far away, cat-in-lap immobilized by Chad (still slightly damp) and Lugh dozing on him. He looks as endeared as he is inconvenienced.      And, most of all...      Fae is trying to say something to Roy and Igrene outside the firelight, with Sophia silently backing her up, but she just keeps fumbling the words. The unhappy emotions that she'd worn all out of her system come bubbling back up.      Igrene, sitting on the ground with a knee propped up, is trying not to look too sharp; Roy, leaning on a tree, just looks queasily pained.      "... I'm sorry. You've been a big help. But you're a child. This still isn't something you should have to shoulder."      "Don't say it like you're being nice to Fae! Fae likes you, and you're mean to her!"      "But, Fae, don't you want to go back home? There's scary things here. And the villagers miss you."      "I don't! Fae doesn't! If they miss Fae, too bad! Fae misses lots of people! Fae misses Athos! Fae misses Hawkeye! Fae misses her mom and dad! Fae misses the little Igrene Fae could play games with!" Her hands are balled up now, eyes squeezed shut.      The others grimace. It's not that they're intimidated by her. It's just that they're confronted with the impossibility of telling a dragon to stay at home if she doesn't want to.      "Oh, Fae... but lots of people here said they'd visit you, right? Just be patient a little longer."      "Fae doesn't want to be patient! Everybody says that! Fae..." A little coughing sniffle. "... Fae just wanted to know where people go when they leave her."      BGM: https://youtu.be/mFybq3zbSzk
Trudy Grimm	Trudy brings up the rear of the formation during the exit, relying on the Black Knight's fearsome reputation and strength if any pursuit needs to be thwarted. Fortunately, that seems to eventually not be the case. Even the icy bridge has mostly melted by the time she's caught up, and so she crosses the river on the great Knight's shoulder instead.     Now, as the camp is being set up, she busies herself assisting with tents. The Black Knight has long since planted his sword into the earth and stares out into the darkness, backlit by the fire as he stands watch still as a statue. The witch, meanwhile, is-- untalkative. Listening, only, and rolling around assorted thoughts from the ongoing argument as well as the radio chatter from before.     Her thoughts go to that clash in which she and Lilian had met Rutger. Though the swordfighter has since turned out to be a valiant and reliably comrade; her own impatience forced Lilian to come to her rescue yet again. Maybe I *am* more trouble than I'm worth after all.     "'Nine', I hear said so insistently," Grimnir puffs on his pipe, resting on a fallen log nearby, "'Nine Hundred' is the truth, eh?" The old man pulls his pipe from his mouth and gestures with it, "She is young-- for a dragon. Compared to a human, our little Fae has seen more in her lifetime than anyone else could dream of. The humans among us should keep that in mind."     His single eye closes as the mouthpiece of his pipe vanishes back into the white tangled bushel of his facial hair, "If Fae wants to join us, I say let her. She's more than proven she can take care of herself back at Arcadia, mmm?"
Dysnomia	Whatever will Dysnomia mustered to leave behind Fae the first time--mostly by focusing on Roy's pain--is utterly expended. She can barely stand to leave Fae alone for fifteen minutes, unless the little dragon is surrounded by others who can keep her company, allievate that crushing feeling, like wailing, like suffocating, like dying.     Dysnomia sticks close to Fae, something of an apology reflected in the way she stands. Its not safe, part of her went. We couldn't bear it, if anything happened to you. Her mouth opened. Shut. It's not like this is easy for us. But the utter torrent of grief, of suffocating, overwhelming hurt, steals the breath from her lungs.     "'Nine Hundred' is the truth, eh?"     "It's--" she gritted her teeth, feeling like a knife sliding into her gut. "--It's not so simple, old man. She's not the same as an adult--don't grade her by standards that aren't hers. She's not here because she wants to fight. Though, I'm sure she'd be willing. Just--"     She hissed through her teeth. "--Imagine your whole life. Locked in a house. And...You can't even hate who's doing it, because they DO love you, they DO want to keep you safe, and. The world IS dangerous for you..."     "But. You look out the window." Dysnomia breathed, torched. "You see people. Living their lives. Talking, to people you'll never meet. Going, to places you'll never see. And the people who love you, they say--" She swallowed, mustering her breath. "--It's 'that's not for you. That will never be for you. You'll live your whole life here. In this house. For your own good.'"     "That's--" Her teeth grated, realizing she'd drifted from arguing against the old man to something that sounded like support for Fae. She tried to muster up a way to disavow it. What came out instead was... "Could you stand it? Any of you?"
Flamel Parsons	Roy's our boy, but emphatically, he's not our man. "Fae's definitely going to see just a little hypocrisy, there, Roy! No offense, but I know a guy who picked the armor with the biggest pauldrons when I see it. Being young and shouldering all you can is how it goes, for certain people." Flamel has wandered to the fire. He tilts his head, pops up a translucent thought bubble, then yanks it down, bundles it up below him, and sits, levitating.     "I can really tell you've got a lot more intelligence than you can fit through that vocabulary. But I'm still not allowed to do deep telepathy with you, you're definitely still covered under the Young Minds Protection Act! So I'm gonna do my best to hear what you're saying if you'll do your best to say it."     His mind flashes to his theories. The thought-bubble under him flickers as he does, showing smearing, unclear visuals. The image of a young Prince Zephiel bringing Iðunn to Arcadia shows up, once or twice, but very little else. He listens to Dysnomia's description of the feeling of distance and Trudy's thoughts on the lifetime subjective experience, taps his chin, then leans to address Fae. "You've probably seen more people leave you than I've ever even met! I want to tell you a secret." He leans down and whispers, "I have some stolen memories and subjective experience -- but I've only been alive for a handful of years! I'm a lot younger than I look. So you actually know a lot more than I do. And that means, if I know something you don't, I have to be honest about it! You know more than me, after all."     He beams cheerfully. "So, why don't you tell me your theories? I mean, nobody would ever *want* to leave you. You're amazing! So I bet something happened, or a lot of different things happened -- or a *great big conspiracy* happened. And I'm *great* at figuring out conspiracies. Aliens, doppelgangers, shapeshifters, everything like that. You name it, I can solve it! So, tell me about all those people you care about, and what you think might have happened, and I'll do my best."
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine helped scout the campsite, and returned from an early patrol with a chamois goat slung over her back. She's not as good a cook as a huntress, but she still does her best to help with preparing the meat as well. Fae being safe again has her in a good mood, which is (evidently) a productive mood as well. She putters around the camp helping people with tents and other camp fixings while dinner is cooking over the fires, finally settling down only when it's time to eat. She digs into the meal with gusto, opining to any with the (mis?)fortune of sitting near her that meat tastes best when you caught it yourself.     Later, as the fires dim and people begin making their way toward evening routines, Madeleine overhears Fae struggling to articulate herself against Igrene and Roy's cautionary words. Quietly beelining to the small gathering, she pitches in her two cents:     "Taking her back to Arcadia doesn't erase the reasons she followed us. She'd just do it again. The options here aren't 'she sticks with us' or 'she stays in Arcadia'; either she sticks with us now, or she comes to us again later, over longer distance and in greater danger. She's making it clear that she needs to be out here, away from where she spent the last nine centuries, and we can't just persuade her to ignore that."     She taps a finger to her chin, then looks down to Fae. "I could teach you some of what I know about evasion and stealth. Staying with us will be less dangerous than sending you back to Arcadia, but not completely safe. With some hiding lessons, it could be a lot safer."
Echolalia	Echolalia of course would love it if Fae coud exist around in, lets say, a bubble that automatically deflects all trouble and immediately protects her from all bad vibes. But Echolalia is unawareo f where one might obtain such technology, so she's a bit stumped. Despite getting captured and everything, it doesn't seem like Fae's thirst for seeing the outside world has diminished one iota. Normally you'd expect it to maybe diminish a little, but Fae seems as determined as ever--maybe even more so! Echolalia has been listening to the infighting over the band, too, but hasn't commented on it. It's vaguely distressing but she just doesn't have the mental energy to wade into that pool with everything that happened. She feels everyone in this campaign wants what's best for her and it's hard to say 'following an army around' is the best option available. If having a little spy gadget wasn't enough to dissuade her, what would be? She thinks back to what Flamel said, about just how painful it is for Fae. Her hair is a contemplative cool blue and her antlers have extended further past it. She leans against a tree like she might get engulfed by it if she so wills it. "Everybody wants to help Fae, wants Fae to be safe. But..." She exhales slowly and looks over to Fae. "If you follow us...Even in the best case scenario, you're going to see people get hurt, you're going to see them ''die''. You might even get hurt and die yourself. Nobody wants that to happen to you and..." She pauses. "I know you are brave, you're such a brave girl. And I guess that's why I get scared. I'm scared you'll leave to somewhere you can't come back from." She pushes off the tree and drops down into a crouch. "When you went missing I was super duper scared, Fae. I was scared we'd lose you forever." She exhales slowly, little green wisps of smoke pouringo out of her mouth and drifting into the sky whewre it ultimately disipitates. She isn't sure what else to say, or if she should even say anything, but ultimately... Could SHE stand to be locked in one house forever? To be stuckhome with all the rest? No, she couldn't handle it. But that doesn't change the danger, the realitty. "That's... life, Fae. Sometimes people leave to places you can't follow, not for a long long long time." She says. "Even humans have to say goodbye sometimes without knowing where anybody left to. But Maddy's right." She looks to Ingrene. "Even if we could, Bern already knows about Arcadia. It actually isn't that much safer THERE, right? Not at this point." She is less in a hurry to help with ninja training. If only Chief Rita was here...
Aidan Proudpick	Aidan is already here. He was near by, sitting cross legged, shelling acorns and other forage as he listened to Lucius, in a metaphorical auxiliary room in a church, metaphorical ants on a log and an equally metaphorical napkin on his not metaphorical lap. His tail twitches rhythmically, ears forward towards Lucius, a thoughtful look over his face as he considers the radio conversation. He has to look at the army around him. He cares, but... did he actually bond? Is he just extracting what he needs to hear from Lucius? He hasn't really been able to offer anything back. Forage goes into his own pot with heaps of flour and river water. No one wants scurvy. "I always wanted to ask, Lady Clarine. What happens to you after all this is done? You make a good medic. You make a good war secretary...person..." he waves a hand in that universal, 'you know what I mean' way as he crushes garlic against the rim of the pot with the other. His eyes dart towards Fae. A moment of a twitched tail. "If Fae wants to join us," "Miss Echolalia's right, Fae. You gotta think about all the people you care about and things you wanna do. Dying means yer gone. And the people you wanna help gotta go without ya."
Odette Raskins	Odette can't sleep. She normally has issues sleeping anyway, but she's especially jittery on the way out from the Knight-General's camp. Seeing everyone in the wagon resting does put her mind at ease, at least, but she's content to keep an eye out for any pursuers from the ground. There's even an opportunity to nap by the time camp is properly set up, letting the exhaustion grant her a wholetwenty minutes of sleep before she wakes right back up a little while later. No, she's still too anxious about Myrddin after leaving him behind. Fae's safety is certainly a huge load off her mind, at least, but there's still so many more things that could still go wrong in the long run, and even more things that could spoil whatever rest they might get if it happens right now. The EMT needs something to take her mind off that, and what better way than to hang out with everyone in camp and eat that delicious smelling stew? Approaching the gathering by the fire, Odette bites her lip lightly as she watches several people unsuccessfully trying to convince Fae to go home. She rubs her chin for a moment before stopping by Fae, squatting besides her and then just plopping on the ground a second later. "Hey...Fae? I think I get it. People at home used to hide things from me all the time, too." She gives the dragon's sleeve a gentle tug, like she's trying to bring her close enough to  hug her from the side or something. "S... Some of them would die in the mines, or they'd get too sick to keep working, and everyone would just make up stories about where they went. Even when I got old enough to know what death was, they'd just... Never be upfront about it, even when I wanted to go see them." Odette rubs her neck lightly and pulls her bag around to her side, reaching in for a moment before stopping herself and leaving it alone. "A-and I got mad, but.. I couldn't stay mad, because I knew they really did care and just didn't want me getting hurt knowing about all that, or getting involved with all the stuff that... Well." She gestures around herself, then inhales deeply like she's bracing herself. "So..." "I-I think we should bring Fae with us. I don't think it'd do us or her any good to pretend she doesn't know things, or that she'd stay home, and... I-it might even be safer, if we're all going in the same direction with this, right?"
Petra Soroka	Once Petra catches up to the army, she has critically low resistance to being pressganged into manual labor in order to feel useful. Even after hurrying along and being just as beat by the late hour, she has zero arguments against lending a hand putting up the tents for everyone-- because obviously, that's just what the army is *owed* from her, for the task of putting up with her-- and she's actually experienced enough at the task to not slow the soldiers down by helping.     Once that task is done, Petra's overheated enough to shuck down to her tank top even in the cold weather. She sits a bit outside the ring of people clustered around the fire for warmth, knees knocked together and forearms awkwardly tucked between her thighs while slouching. She spares a bit of praise for Clarine along the way for her ploy last time, and in giving her a congratulatory fist bump while sleeveless with a short, messy ponytail, gives another paradigm for lesbian dress besides the flannel for warmer weather.     "It felt good, right? Flexing that sort of thing for a good reason for once. I mean, you know, not to make *too* many assumptions, but-- I think that's a pretty cool way to use the things you are to be more like the things you want to be."     Petra puts a hand on her hip and closes her eyes, sagely adding, "Imagine being treated like a noblewoman *and* a soldier."     But eventually, Petra gravitates to Fae along with everyone else. Not just out of following the social flow towards the most emotionally-fraught moment of the night, but because as much as Petra likes to see other people cry, her feelings towards crying nine year olds are achingly tender. She hesitates a moment before approaching, acutely conscious of the scars on her arms, but decides that Fae's certainly lived through more wars than Petra has, and she's already out here besides.     "... Hey Fae. I know you're getting asked a lot of questions, and you're trying to say a lot of things, but when all of that happens at once, it's hard to get your thoughts in order, right? Do you mind if I show you a friend of mine who wants to get to know you, and we can talk to them? This, is Wildfire."     Petra shuffles around and withdraws a stuffie of some four-legged dinosaur creature with mushroom growths like spines up its neck and a mane below its head. She places it on the ground between herself and Fae, and sets it to the side just a bit so it looks like it could be 'facing' both of them. She leans her elbow on her leg and squashes her cheek into her palm, talking to the stuffed animal. "So, since Wildfire here doesn't know anything about you, you can tell him anything, and he won't judge you at all."     As a little primer to prompt Fae, Petra says as if she's explaining to the plushie, "This is Fae. I've seen her home before, and it's really pretty, and everyone there is really nice, but there's still things that make Fae unhappy there. No one in the army or at her home wants her to be unhappy, but it's really complicated, because so many people want different things from her."     Petra nudges the plushie just a little bit towards Fae, inviting her to talk to it or pick it up and squeeze it as necessary. She figures, with all the faces crowding around her, having a singular target for explaining might be comforting, even if she's answering other people's questions too.
Lilian Rook	The mountain conditions are just short of miserable. The situation is barely not dire. Being back here for the journey is tense-near-harrowing within hours. Lilian had just spent the time before that a vitriolic flurry of incendiary words. So it is now a matter for the philosophers why she seems so weirdly refreshed.     Far from the downturned semi-numb exhaustion that she's dragged with her for the last several weeks, weighing on her hesitant smile through the necessary paces of saving those who need it, she sets about building up camp with a kind of efficiency that only comes from excess energy (and having been drilled in this before). Swinging back to where she was a continent ago, Lilian is abundantly approachable, and bizarrely encouraging.     Not even the difficult subject ahead drags her back down to earth. Her feet are merely planted it     '... I'm sorry. You've been a big help. But you're a child. This still isn't something you should have to shoulder.'     "I feel complicated about what to say to that." Lilian says, inviting herself in with a vaguely apologetic duck into the group. "I'm certain you must have more than enough of your own thoughts, given what people expect of you now. And besides that, she is, also, much younger than you are. It's not the same."     'Oh, Fae... but lots of people here said they'd visit you, right? Just be patient a little longer.'     "I wish she would be, Igrene." Lilian sighs, finding a place to sit. "It'd put me much more at ease knowing that she's somewhere safe and out of the way. But I think . . ." She glances back at nowhere, searching for the words drifting in the pool of her recollection, then looking back to Igrene suddenly. "It might just be time. A girl can only stay the same for so long, and nine hundred years is a very long time. Now that the cork is off, I don't think you can un-spill this."     '... Fae just wanted to know where people go when they leave her.'     "Speaking of which . . ." Lilian sigh-whispers, and takes a deep breath.     "If you want me to answer that question, Fae, I will. But the answer is somewhat complicated and a little sad. And I don't know if you'll understand. Humans don't tell their young children about this until they're halfway grown up, but you're special; you're both very young and older than I am, so it's tough to tell. So . . ."     She asks, but she doesn't intend to stop unless Fae says no. She sensed this coming weeks ago. Lilian has already thought it through. Her only real pause is light astonishment at the sight of the plushie, a helpless, accidentally warm smile at Petra, and a half-mumbled "Hi Wildfire." before continuing on resolutely.     "Humans . . . no, every living thing eventually has to go to the place where 'god' is. If you ask the church, it's where the Saint went. If you ask the Sacaens, it's where the spirits are. But everything only gets to be here, with us, for a finite amount of time; then they're called, and they can't stay. And . . . once they go, they can't come back. But it's not so bad, because once they're there, they never have to go away ever again. They're all there forever."     Lilian takes a deep breath. The energy it takes from her is strangely theological, far more than it is about treating a child gently. "It's difficult, and complicated, though, because people need to be here first. All the places where 'god' isn't, are the places where people can learn and grow up. Everyone wants to know as much as they can; about the world, each other, themselves; how to love each other, how to deal with frightening things, how to understand other people, how to tell right and wrong apart. And that takes a long time."
Lilian Rook	"The idea of being sent there, somewhere you don't know, without being ready; that makes going there so terrifying for adults, even though they know they'll get to meet the people they miss. If you get hurt badly enough, 'god' takes you there to look after you, whether you're ready or not, so war is frightening because so many people get hurt and are taken away. It's especially frightening for adults, who learn much slower than children, and struggle to understand things that used to be easy."     "So everyone here is scared for you, because it'd be lonely, and sad, and unfair, if you were hurt and taken away. As adults, we can't help but be much more frightened of it than you are, and it breaks our hearts to imagine. But it's also sad and unfair and lonely to leave you in Arcadia."     "Because dragons are very powerful, and they have to learn all sorts of different things than humans so they can get along; so God made it so they can stay here a very long time. Getting to stay here for so long lets you understand and experience all sorts of things that humans never can, and that's really very special and happy, but it also means a lot of humans will go on ahead of you, and you have to wait a very long time to see them again."     Realizing how long she's gone on, Lilian winds down with the tender guardedness of someone bracing for the sting of deafening silence. "And if you're stuck in one village, you eventually run out of things to learn. And then it feels awful to still be here, away from all of the things you still need to see, so that you can go to the other place and get along with everyone. It feels like wasting your time. Being lonely for no reason."     "So . . . I want you to come along too, but I'm afraid you'll be taken away. That's frightening for me, too, because just like you, I have to stay here for a very long time. Much longer than humans."
Marigold	Clarine appraises Petra in soft awe, like she's getting to see an exotic culture's ceremonial dress, and then snaps back to real life long enough to reciprocate the fist-bump. (She sucks at it.) "So it did," she confides, sage and a bit puffed-up. "I never liked the life of a noblewoman. It's a cursed birth. But if I had to suffer it, it's compensation to use it, right?"      A noblewoman and a soldier? Petra leaves Clarine with a hand over her mouth, deep in slightly-shocked thought. "I couldn't. Could I? Like Cecilia, or Lilian . . . The best of both worlds . . ."      "For the second time, it's not about whether she can take care of herself," Igrene says. She can be sharper when not talking to Fae- though not too sharp. This is the group of people who just helped save her, after all.      "Things happen in war that no small child should ever see," she continues crisply, looking anywhere but at her dragon daughter. "Arcadia is peaceful, but I still know that. If she runs off and joins this war, how many more is she going to be dragged into? Are you thinking about centuries from now? Does ten thousand years of 'scarred for life' mean anything to you?"      Fae just looks away, making a softly uneasy 'nn' noise and rubbing her cheek.      Igrene is softer with Madeleine, but maybe only because Maddie's echoing her own doubts. "You say that like there's no chance of changing her mind. But however earnest her wish is, it's misguided. As her mother, it's my job to guide her right."      Increasingly soft and increasingly pained, Igrene shakes her head sadly at Mia. "To live out your whole life in Arcadia... that's the sentence for everyone there. For her safety more than ours. It may be hard, but it isn't unfair. Not unless you think a dragon's life is more important than a human's." But Fae blinks at Mia, startled to be understood, and blearily nods her gratitude.      Roy knows he's being a bit of a hypocrite even before Flamel says it. It strikes him, and he flinches, but he's already braced. "It's different," he says, rubbing his arm and shrinking back against the tree, but he decides not to split hairs about seventeen-versus-'nine'. "I'm young, but I'm a lord's son. I always knew I'd have to carry some things. She hasn't been braced for this at all."      He nods to Lilian too, a moment later. Arms cross queasily. "And it's a matter of duty for me, too. I'm not in her place." But still...      Thus tenderized, Igrene sighs and nods, depletedly, when Lilian slides in beside her. "It's the time for her curiosity to bloom, I suppose. Though I wish it weren't my time. After fifty generations, if I'm finally the guardian who loses Fae, my soul will never rest," she half-jokes.
Marigold	Fae looks at 'Wildfire' with a deep reverence, like the little stuffed dino is a religious artifact. It might as well be. She sits down in that nearly-collapsing way kids do, only briefly tearing her eyes off him to look at Petra, and nodding tearily along with the description of her village.      When she holds out her li'l hands to pick Wildfire up, she hesitates like she's waiting to see if he objects. Once he's in her lap, she squeezes him with all her tiny might and carefully keeps her tears from getting on his fabric. "Hi, Wildfire. Fae's Fae," she says after a little sniffle. "Thank you for talking to me. Fae will do her best to help, okay?"      She looks back at the dino's head over her shoulder, while rocking a little and listening to Lilian.      "'Never have to go away again'. . ." she murmur-agrees, her voice a little rough. Igrene looks distinctly worried, but doesn't object to Lilian explaining. Lucius gently nods a 'go on' from the sidelines.      . . .      "Tha-ank you, Lilian. Fae..." Little cough to clear her airways. Her eyes squeeze shut, and new tears spill over her red cheeks as she hunches forward.      "Wildfire... Fae knows when people get really hurt, they 'go away'. But Lilian says people just go away when they're done growing up... Fae didn't understand that, for a long time. And humans grow up so fast. They 'learn everything they need to'."      "They... they play with Fae for just a few winters. They say 'I'll play tomorrow', but then they're grown-up. And then they say 'I'll always love you', but... then they're gone. Fae never sees what happens." Her breath out is hot and raw. Her arms tremble. She halfway buries her face in the toy she's talking to, looking away from Echolalia. "Green dragon says Fae shouldn't want to see people go. But if Fae looked at someone all the time, if Fae just followed always, maybe they couldn't get away? Stupid. Stupid Fae."      Igrene looks like her heart is tearing in half, but she doesn't dare to speak, even when there's a long moment's pause. Fae ends it with a shivery inhalation.      "... because they went away to God, knight lady says. Fae doesn't know where that is, Wildfire. Fae can't follow there yet. They'll go there no matter what. Fae just has to b- to be-- be pa-ha-aatient. And good."      She balls up tighter, and shivers one more time... and then scrambles to her feet to dash over to Igrene, who's silently crying on her own too, and Lilian right beside her, and squeeze between them into their arms.      "Ple-eaase, don't. Don't worry. I won't be the one who leaves you. Even if it's not fair. Let me stay. If you have to go, let me be here for it! Please. P-bl-pplease..." "Fae... I'm so sorry. I didn't-- oh, Athos, forgive me..." She nods to Echolalia- Arcadia might be safer than here, but not by much. Not enough to justify this. "... I should've known you'd be hurt either way."      Blearily, Fae nods at Madeleine around Wildfire and the arms she's snuggled herself into. Yeah. That'd be good.      Roy looks about like all his innards have been torn out. He's in no state to say 'yes'. But he isn't saying 'no' now, either.
Trudy Grimm	"Whether dragons or gods, long-lived beings cooped up for ages is a cruelty, wouldn't you say?" is all Grimnir says both to Dysnomia and Igrene both when they admonish his cavalier approach to the matter, "At the end of the day, it's down to what Fae wants-- and I think her wish is achingly clear." > "Does ten thousand years of 'scarred for life' mean anything to you?"     The old sage laughs a hearty Norseman laugh that shows his teeth even behind the generous curtain of moustache and beard. With his free hand, he gestures to his own face with his unoccupied hand, "More than you might realize. This old face has been through a lot; almost as much as it's witnessed. My heart aches for how much you care for the girl and wish to protect her, but--"     His single eye shifts, resting on Fae while she squeezes the plushie dinosaur Petra provided, "Nine hundred years is an awful lot of goodbyes for one little soul to withstand. Can't you see that's created its own scars, my dear?"     "Wounds can be healed," he hums as he settles back in his seat, "With the appropriate love and care."     When Fae totters over to Igrene and Lilian to cry and hug and beg, Grimnir tucks his pipe back into his mouth, puffing gently with his eye closed. His lean towards Petra is only slight, but the gratitude in his voice is utterly sincere, "You're quite good with children, mm? Thank you for bringing your fluffy little friend. He's helping quite a bit."
Marigold	Fae, from her comforting tangle, reaches out a little wet hand towards Odette too, to tug her down for whatever gesture Odette intended. She nods, snuffling half-miserably.      "... Fae's mad, though," she mumbles softly. "Fae's staying mad. Everyone... everyone always... if they care about Fae, why do they lie to her? Why do they say 'forever' when they mean 'a while'? Why do they say 'leaving' when they mean 'die'? It's not okay to tell stories. People told Fae that... not fair."
Lilian Rook	'I couldn't. Could I? Like Cecilia, or Lilian . . . The best of both worlds . . .'     Lilian will start developing a freaky headcanon about Cecilia later. For now, she just does her best to look at Clarine like a normal person and smile normally.     'Though I wish it weren't my time.'     "Everyone who lives in interesting times feels the same way." Lilian says. Her smile turns wry and distant. "Don't think about 'if I'm finally the one'. No one else had to live up the burden you're having to. You're doing things that have never been done before. Your ancestors can't judge you."     'Are you thinking about centuries from now? Does ten thousand years of 'scarred for life' mean anything to you?'     Lilian stares off ten thousand miles into nowhere, and rasps "Yeah. It does a little."     'It may be hard, but it isn't unfair. Not unless you think a dragon's life is more important than a human's.'     "More than that, what I want is for no one in Arcadia to be 'sentenced' forever." she says. "I don't object to its fairness; only that it's yours at all."     'And then they say 'I'll always love you', but... then they're gone. Fae never sees what happens. Green dragon says Fae shouldn't want to see people go. But if Fae looked at someone all the time, if Fae just followed always, maybe they couldn't get away? Stupid. Stupid Fae.'     It takes almost all of Lilian's strength to hold back the sting in her eyes and the rawness in her throat. This isn't the place to let someone see her do that. Much less on Fae's behalf. She swallows thrice before speaking.     "My home used to have a lot of people in it, but by the time I was born, everyone but my parents and my brother and sister had gone. They were all old enough to remember them. They missed them terribly, and were always thinking about them. Even humans eventually have to feel that way, Fae. When they're grown up, all the people they grew up with start leaving very, very fast, and soon they miss them so much that they follow quickly after. You're not stupid for wanting to follow them."     'Fae just has to b- to be-- be pa-ha-aatient. And good.'     Lilian's fingers all twitch in sequence in her lap. As if she were about to raise her arms. She swallows hard a fourth time instead, and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I can't make that sound nice. It's just the way things are." says Lilian. "Sometimes, very rarely, you can talk to them a little. I always liked doing that. But I'm a little bit afraid of that too. It's already happened to you, but it hasn't happened to me yet, so you know better than I."     "But--" she glances to Igrene, commiseratingly. "In that village, there's no one else who has to stay here as long as you do. Outside, there are other people who have to, who won't go away in a few winters, even though they're hard to find. I try to be friends with those people, so I'll always have them by my side. I really want the same for you too. I don't want you to keep missing more and more people for your whole life."     "I understand that if someone here gets taken away, you want to at least be there for it. I can't say no to that. I just want to warn you that, until this war is over, there are going to be times you're very frightened, and times you wish you could run away, and some things that will be very sad memories that will take a long time to get better. So even if you come along, when someone tells you not to look, or not to come, you must listen. They're not trying to send you away; they're trying to let you have as few sad memories as possible."
Flamel Parsons	Flamel nods a few times to Roy, but he emphasizes: "Everyone inherits something, man! Really, I'd say, maybe Fae even has more claim to an unusual inheritance than *you* have -- well, at least half of one, anyway." He rags an index finger in an instructive but fundamentally encouraging way. "One of the rules of Psychonautry is one of the rules that applies to everyone else: 'We are entitled to how we feel, at least.' You've inherited a duty, which demands execution. Fae feels like she's inherited an unfair misfortune, which demands restitution." He turns back to her. "...In a way, she really has."     "It's important to remember, we can't *be something* without inheriting something. An obligation, or a debt, or a blessing, or a curse. I'm made out of inheritances, they're all I am -- but everyone else is, in their own way, too. People are formed by whatever comes from the people who bring them into the world. Material, heritage, experience, or anything else." His smile is encouraging. "You're never alone with that. Though nobody likes to think about it much, so it can feel that way, when times are bad."     He focuses on Fae, on the side. "Forever means different things for different people. For me, 'forever' means the last ten-ish years I've existed, and whatever was in the immediate past of the immediate space I lived those years in. That's forever for me. But, relativity isn't very appropriate." He taps his chin, then gestures with a little point and a pop of the hand. "But understanding a conspiracy means looking at the contradictions and finding out the *coverups*. The deceptions that cover other deceptions. If everyone has told you they'll love you forever, and then they die..." He broadens his gesture, plaintively. "Do you think they stopped loving you, then? Well, think about this, maybe." He smiles, softer, more focused.     "Fae, can you name some of the people you'd *stop loving*, if you died? Can you tell me the names of some people who you'd say things to, things like 'I'm going off to die!' Try to imagine it. In fact, I'm a lot younger than you, and I have a lot less experience in the world. Do you feel like you'd want to say that to me?" He tilts the head and plants his own hand on his chest. "'I'm going to go off to this war, and maybe I'll die.' Would you say that to me? Or would you say something like 'I'm going to go help with this war, and things might go badly'? And if you said that... would you be trying to hurt me?"
Lilian Rook	'... I should've known you'd be hurt either way.'     Lilian exhales shakily, and then turns her attention to Igrene, rubbing a glisten away from her eyes with her thumb. "At the very least, this might be the second safest place for her. Lord Roy's army is incredibly strong, and small enough she won't get lost. Everyone here cares about her, and everyone will protect her. If we can't keep her safe, then she can at least come with me." Lilian says. "I've hurt lots of people, often very badly, but I've never killed anyone. I don't want this war to change that, either. So if you're worried about what she'll see, I would like you to trust at least me."     Unable to help herself, Lilian glances out of the corner of her eye at Lucius. Her look screams 'did I do good?' in silent, gut-churning anxiety. Her arms only move when Fae runs over to squeeze her. She utters an entirely reflexive 'ouf' as if the little girl's hug were a powerful force, then gently squeezes her arm around Fae's back, fingertips clinging slightly to her clothes.     'Fae's staying mad. Everyone... everyone always... if they care about Fae, why do they lie to her? Why do they say 'forever' when they mean 'a while'? Why do they say 'leaving' when they mean 'die'? It's not okay to tell stories.'     "People don't like saying 'die', Fae. It's a scary word, and a scary thing. People say 'forever' when they're scared it's going to be forever. No one is lying to you to be mean. It's just that, when they're with you, they can imagine what it's like to not know, so they pretend as long as they can, for their own sakes."
Dysnomia	"For her safety more than ours. It may be hard, but it isn't unfair. Not unless you think a dragon's life is more important than a human's."     Dysnomia shook her head. "No, not more. But different. You...still have the people you grew up with, more or less. Don't you? And unless something goes wrong, you'll have them for most of your life. They're part of your life. How many parts has Fae lost? You said it was important that Arcadia be stable. So Fae could grow up well..."     "...I'm sorry, Igrene. But...It hasn't been. Kids aren't supposed to have people 'important' to them always--" Her voice hitched, taken by another psychic tide of hurt. Lips pursed, eyes averting. "--Leaving. From one 'birthday' to the next."     "...It...doesn't have to mean we send her into battle. Armies have camp followers. It's--" Dysnomia felt her throat seize, a memory of a reflex so old, so primordial, that it followed her into a new body and across over a dozen years. Stupid voice, stupid eyes, stupid tears. She recoiled, in anticipation of familiar scolding, but couldn't stop them.     "After fifty generations, if I'm finally the guardian who loses Fae, my soul will never rest,"     "I...won't let anything happen to her, Igrene." It's impossible for that to come out of her cold, or steely. It's too raw; a wound ripped open, crimson and bleeding. "She'll be safe. I promise. She has...So much more, she has to see..."
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"War is-- yeah," Madeleine says to Igrene with a somber nod. "I hope nobody here would expect Fae to be there for all of it, let alone fight it herself. If she stays with us, we need to take measures to protect her. Letting her ride along laissez-faire is out of the question. Arcadia was kept safe for so long through active effort, and we'll have a similar obligation to fulfill if she joins us. If you want to help us with that, I'm sure Roy would welcome you."     The talk of 'going to god' has Madeleine uneasily shifting her posture. Even though she knows it's an explanation meant for a child, the heartfelt perspective on mortality only reminds the huntress of the scars on her soul. She faces not a final farewell, but in all likelihood a bleak revenance of death and half-life and death again as her spirit erodes into nothingness. She tries not to think about that, most of the time. Now, here, her discomfort with *something* in the explanation is clear to anyone paying attention.     Blearily, Fae nods at Madeleine around Wildfire and the arms she's snuggled herself into. Yeah. That'd be good.     "Alright." Madeleine's immediately back at ease, at least for the most part. "We can decide how that'll go later."
Aidan Proudpick	Aidan rolls his eyes as he stirs his own pot. Look, no one wants to get scurvy right. "As long as you remember the people you lead, Lady Clarine, that's the most important part. Being a noblewoman is all fine and stuff, but if you aren't using that money for something useful..." Aidan pauses, tipping his spoon. How many dresses does Sarra own again? He taps the spoon the side of the pot. "Well, a good soldier makes sure their other soldiers are well fed and well paid." His face softens again when he hits Petra. "Uncorrupted," he murmurs to himself. His eyes are on Roy instead of Fae, glancing at every struggling thought. His eyes fall back down at the pot of soup, stirring it slowly. He grins, rather than waxing depressive, "Are ya?" He pushes a cheap plastic bag of lentils into the pot. "The duty is to follow your orders and keep pushing, but that's not enough." A thoughtful stir. "I know you wanna protect. We all wanna protect Fae. Protect the soldiers, protect the soldiers we're fighting because they don't need to throw their lives away." Aidan waves the spoon expansively, before putting it back into the pot. "Something I learned recently, people are gonna fight. You can't stop it. Fae's gonna fight. Yer gonna have to make sure she can fight while protecting her. It ain't just yer duty... I know you want it in there," Aidan taps his own chest. "Stop calling it duty. It's what yer heart wants. Not just some thing you were born for."
Petra Soroka	At first, Petra isn't certain about Lilian's tactic of explaining death and the emotional value of the afterlife to a nine year old. For one, she's not even comfortable with declarative statements about its existence or the relative personhood and well-being of the people who may or may not be in it, but beyond that, her first instinct is that it's jumping the gun a bit, to go on a long speech about death when the more immediate problem is abandonment.     But, thinking about it a little longer, people might 'go' when they leave Arcadia, but the reason why they don't come back is... more challenging. How else would you explain why the kids Fae plays with keep growing up, and then after growing up, they vanish instead of coming back? The only other option besides death would be that they don't *want* to come back, and that vague permanence is a worse feeling than teaching Fae to appreciate the human timescale.     Petra proceeds to feel weird about growing up and dying again. She wonders if there was some wealth of dragon culture and parental practices for this sort of interspecies relationship, that was eradicated in the Scouring, or if the adult dragons just never considered such a thing important enough to teach. If the people of Arcadia don't know, then there's probably no one who does.     Even when she's uncertain about Lilian's methods, though, she doesn't object. The reason why she offered to let Fae talk out her own feelings to Wildfire was because there's two people whose words on this topic she trusts: Lilian's, and Fae's, with Igrene being a lesser third. Petra's words aren't among them, so she doesn't interject where she's not needed. "Hi, Wildfire. Fae's Fae,"     When she's looked at, Petra smiles encouragingly and swallows. She presses her lips together and tries to hold back tears while Fae goes on talking to the plushie, muffling a sniffle with the back of her hand so she doesn't interrupt her. Once she dashes away to hug Lilian and Irene, Petra finally allows herself an agonized gasp with her face turned to the side, scrubbing at her eyes. "You're quite good with children, mm?"     "... I try to b-be." Petra mumbles through a sniffle. "All it takes it really treating them like people. There isn't any kid who doesn't deserve that, and I'm *not* being hypocritical at all when I say that, actually."     Petra laboriously pushes herself up from the ground, takes a deep breath for strength, and then follows over to where Fae is entangled. She crouches down beside the girl, looks up at Lilian with an earnestly teary expression, then pats Fae on the shoulder.     "Hey, Fae. I heard Wildfire suggest something. He says that, if you really really want to stay with the army, then he wants to help keep you safe by watching over you, and helping protect you along with everyone here. Does that sound alright?"     "And," Petra lowers her gentle voice even further, rubbing Fae's back. "He's my friend too, so I'll want him back once this is all over. That's a promise that I won't disappear or-- die, because then I'd be leaving Wildfire behind too. Okay, Fae?"
Echolalia	Echolalia says, "Well...I'm not saying you shouldn't go--I just... Want you to know the sorts of stuff you're bound to see, you know?" She rubs at her neck. "...Green dragon...?" That, a little more softly. She's not sure why the shift, but she feels guilty anyway. ''If I'm finally the guardian who loses Fae, my soul will never rest.'' "Well ''that's'' not gonna happen!" Echolalia manages to say it confidently. She's very good at saying that very plausible scenarios won't happen because she, they, or everyone will be around to stop it. It's just what she's like! But she doesn't interrupt adorable Wildfire time. ''Stupid. Stupid Fae.'' "Hey don't say that..! You're hella smart! Ingrene's always saying it!" ''I won't be the one who leaves you. Even if it's not fair. Let me stay. If you have to go, let me be here for it!'' Echolalia pauses, and looks back to Ingrene. She nods to Ingrene and then turns to Roy. "Hey... I know I've always been a little more on the 'hey let Fae come along' side because I'm totally susceptible to her, but... Mia, Ingrene, me...heck Lilian, who is some kind of badass ninja or something?? Like she got to Fae WAY TOO FAST to not be a ninja--a lot of people would be looking after her... And... I dunno, maybe it'll also ... It's been kinda hard, yeah? I kinda noticed everything's been hard for everyone, so..." Echolalia who totally did just say die, pushes up her shoulders awkwardly.
Petra Soroka	"At the very least, this might be the second safest place for her."     Petra looks up at Igrene from her squat next, nodding along in support of Lilian. She opens her mouth, takes a short, sharp breath that hitches in her throat, and then feels out her words carefully as she says them.     "It's relatively safe, the people here care about her, she can get hurt by grief whether she's here or not, and... maybe children shouldn't see that kind of stuff, but..." Petra trails off, before finishing more flatly than she wanted to. "... but they still do."     "Fae will 'see' it even if she stays sheltered at home for the entire war. She'd see it in the way the adults talk and hide things, and she'd miss you and Sophia for being gone, and she's not immature enough that she wouldn't *get* it. She'd just be... more alone for it, and feel like she's being hurt by it without being trusted. That's what she's been saying."
Odette Raskins	Odette covers her mouth when she sees Fae speaking to Wildfire, unable to keep watching directly for long while simultaneously being unable to look away. It's adorable to see, but listening closer winds up making it even more heartbreaking to hear. The EMT isn't nearly as long-lived as Fae is nor will she ever be, but just hearing about how many people Fae must've seen come and go in her lifetime while still being a child has her choking up lightly behind her hand. "Oh, Fae... Nnnhh. You'll see... W-we'll all see them and each other again one day, I'm sure. We just can't-um. Shouldn't rush it because of needing to learn, and see, and do everything first. And..." Getting up to join the pile, Odette hunches over to take Fae's hand with both of her own.  Her lip quivers briefly at hearing Fae's frustration, too, but she holds her gaze and leans in closer to put an arm around Fae's back for a light squeezing hug. "That's how... Nn. That's how our parents try to protect us even if we know what it is. I-it's not a comfortable subject to talk about, so... Well, that's what my parents told me, anyway. So I guess instead of just talking normally, they want to be... Softer about it?" Odette reasons out while sounding just a little confused about the logic, then squeezes Fae again before letting go. "Kind of sounds like a lot of things they do, actually... I-it's not fair, no, even if they didn't want to hurt us by hiding what death is until we're more..." Another uneasy noise. "... Toughened up, I guess? To be told about it, if we haven't already figured it out ourselves." It takes a fair bit for her to even look over at Igrene, a sympathetic frown forming on her face as she tries to pull herself together enough to continue. "There's... N-no, I get it. That kind of worry is the same kind of thing my parents were worried about when I was about to start working with the Company. They were worried I'd get caught up with the Syndicate, or the Redshifts, or... O-or who knows who else, and that was before I ended up getting involved in stuff all over. A-and they're not even in the right shape to follow me around, or to keep an eye on me if anything happens, so if something happened and nobody sent word back..." Getting up from her seat on the floor, Odette goes over to Igrene to place a hand on her shoulder, a bit firmer than might be expected from her of all people. "So that's why we'll make sure she's... Th-that you and Fae don't have to worry about not knowing where both of you are, because you'll be here together." There's a pause as Odette starts to wonder if she might've said something morbid, then hastily adds "A-and everyone'll be here to make sure neither of you lose each other, so your soul won't have anything to worry about!"
Marigold	"Hm? I'll have you know I don't have money," Clarine says to Aidan, bright but not offended. She toddles over to get a bowl of Maddie's goat stew. "I ran away from home, don't you remember?" "You could come back," says Klein from behind her. "Yes, but I shan't." "You shan't..."      "I shan't! Really, it's not my place to say so, but I empathize with our little dragon quite a bit."      "Stop calling it duty. It's what yer heart wants."      "Everyone inherits something, man!"      Roy's smile is crushingly wistful, listening to Flamel and Aidan. He shakes his head slowly. "I guess that's true. Everyone has a burden that makes them grow up. But I wish she didn't have to grow up like this." His eyes wander over to the two boys his age sleeping against Lucius, and he remains silent, for exactly the length of time it would've taken him to say 'I wish I didn't have to grow up like this'.      "This isn't what my heart wants, either. I have to lead, but... I think I'd be more comfortable as just a soldier."      Igrene, who is perhaps a little too used to being the Grownest Up in most situations, prickles at Grimnir's attitude. But she has to concede on one point: "Yes. I do see. It was always... 'damned if I do, damned if I don't'. Maybe no-one can live nine hundred years without any scars."      About sentences, she looks over Fae's head at Lilian, sighs, then looks down and squishes her cheek against the top of the little dragon's head.      "Well. Our secret's out. Soon there won't be a point in keeping to Arcadia. If there still is an Arcadia."      Fae dredges up a deep-yet-tiny breath from the bottoms of her lungs. She murmurs next to Lilian's neck: "Thank you, knight lady. I can... Fae can be good. Fae can be good, a little while longer. Fae can be patient to meet all her friends again. As long as she has forever-friends like you." Igrene looks softly, but bearably, heartbroken as she runs her fingers through Fae's hair.      "I know she'll be safe with you. I just- ohh. I know I couldn't give her everything she needs." She breathes out an unhappy laugh, looking at Mia with something like shame. "I know. I know. 'Humans and dragons can live together'- that's the central tenet of Arcadia. But it never said anything about raising a child alone."      Lamely looking down, she finishes: "We did our best for her, but... if I find a way to live forever, Fae, you'll be the first to know."
Marigold	She twists around, blearily, to look at Flamel and Odette, nodding with her cheeks squished (ideally) between Lilian and Igrene. "Fae gets it. Grown-ups try to be 'soft', because it'd make them a lot sad to say. And softness makes Fae just a little sad. But Fae's 'littles' add up... when does that start being 'unfair'? Fae doesn't know. It just hurts."      "... Well, not anymore, Fae. It's my job to sacrifice for you, after all. I'll tell the truth from now on, even if it's a bad truth. You've gotten bigger than I realized." "Thank you, Igrene...!" Igrene smiles, feebly, and reaches out a hand to squeeze Odette's and Dysnomia's in silent yet firm thanks.      "Ah... She has such sweet friends now."      "'Green dragon' is E-cho-la-li-a," Fae surreptitiously explains to Wildfire. Oh, so it was for the toy's benefit! She smiles at Echo apologetically. "Fae knows. Fae thinks... bad memories are important, sometimes. Maybe Fae doesn't have enough bad memories yet, and that's why God hasn't let her grow up."      When Petra claims to be Wildfire's prophet, Fae looks up at her with earnest, glistening eyes. Then she hastens to nod really emphatically. "Thank you! Thank you, Petra! Fae loves Wildfire... she'll give him back, Fae promises. Fae promises."      Igrene sighs deeply, shuts her eyes, and double-checks her mental arithmetic.      "... Alright. By Roy's leave, Fae and I will be staying." "Thank you!! Thank you, Igrene!!" "We'll figure out ways to keep her safe. Sophia will be on it, of course. I'd like regular check-ups with Lucius..." "And Wildfire! Wildfire will help keep Fae safe." "Ahaha... of course." "And hide-and-seek lessons! With the funny-eyes lady." She hasn't forgotten those!      Lucius smiles angelically at Lilian. After a moment, he gets up- Chad and Lugh start to wake, but he gently taps them both with his staff and murmurs 'sleep'- and walks over, just to lay a hand on her back comfortingly.      "Thank you. It sets my heart at ease to know she has the love of someone like you."
Odette Raskins	"But I wish she didn't have to grow up like this." The look on Odette's face says 'We could be saying that about you, too.'. When she sees him looking over at Chad and Lugh, though, she can read the ~~room~~ campfire and instead chooses not to say anything. Instead, she digs into her bag and takes out a candy bar, then gestures at Roy. "Here, for later." She lobs the bar over at Roy a few seconds after he looks over. It's got sugar, peanuts, and chocolate! There's even some allegedly real milk in that chocolate. "But Fae's 'littles' add up... when does that start being 'unfair'? Fae doesn't know. It just hurts. . ." ".. Well, not anymore, Fae. . ." "Thank you, Igrene...!" Feeling her heart swelling up more at the two coming together on that matter finally, Odette shuffles around a bit as she gets back on her feet. She blinks slowly at seeing Igrene holding her hand out, though, then takes the offered hand and gives it a gentle squeeze not unlike the one she gave Fae earlier. That's great, you two... Hehe. I'm real glad everyone's coming together about this, too. I might not be a-" Odette giggles lightly at Petra's proclamation, then covers her mouth briefly to stifle a yawn. "-a prophet like Petra, but I've got a real good feeling about all this."