|Arthur x Tessia Oneshots|

|Relax|

Welcome baaaacckk~

Hello everyone!!

I know it's been like....probably a little more than a week since I last posted a oneshot.

Sorry, but I'm moving on campus into my dorm!

When fall semester starts, it'll get harder for me to update.

Don't worry! I shall post once I find the time to!!

Anywhore, ONWARDS!!

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|Tessia's POV|

All is quiet and solemn within the walls of the floating castle. With the recent battle at The Wall, while we did win it's also left a sour taste in everyone's mouths. A bitter win. A win that took more than what anyone had expected.

Especially for Arthur.

As I walk down the quiet halls back towards my room, I couldn't help but think about how broken he looked when he came back. How Art had broke down in my arms at the death of his father. How utterly devastated he was. He still is. It broke my heart to see him like that. My heart clenches and ached in my chest just thinking about it.

It's been a total of four days since the attack and the council was slowly becoming more and more restless, wanting to talk to Arthur about the reports they'd received from the soldiers and others about the power he had unleashed upon the hoard of deranged mana beasts.

From the reports the soldiers had given, they said that Art definitely lived up to his code name "Godspell."

"It was as if the gods in the heavens above answered to his call of rage."

"The sky turned dark and purple lightning erupted from the sky, obliterating everything it touched until nothing was left."

"The other soldiers on the ground weren't hurt. Just too stunned to speak."

"His back started glowing, then his hair turned white. After that, the sky unleashed hell upon those damned beasts."

I shook my head, wiping away the thoughts of what I'd heard my parents read aloud. Everyone wanted to know what that power was, how Arthur was capable of possessing it. Especially the councilmen and councilwomen, as well as Aldir, who was usually disinterested in anything outside of forming battle strategies. Not to mention the changes in his appearance after the battle.

His left eye still an azure hue, while his right took on a light shade of purple. The very tips of his hair bleached white, while the rest is still his signature shade of auburn.

While I too, am curious, I never brung it up. Not when he is still mourning.

With that in mind, I open my bedroom door to find a sight I'd familiarized myself with these past few days of being here.

Art lay in bed, on his stomach. Covers pulled over his shoulders as the slow rise and fall of his chest let's me know that he wasn't suffocating himself with the pillow his face rests on. Hair let loose from its usual place up in a ponytail.