The Missing Stone

Old Friends

Silence is somehow more deafening than anything else. Mildred flicks her ears subconsciously, the ringing in her ears seemingly echoing in the room. Seteth resumes writing as if he never stopped.

"I'm assuming you're mistaking me for my ancestor," he says smoothly. "I advise that you get your head out of the books and go to bed." Mildred's tail sways.

"Ci- Seteth," she corrects herself, moving to stand in front of his desk. "I remember. Remember when Cethleann caught her first fish? Remember when Macuil gave you the Spear of Assal? The Caduceus Staff to little Cethleann? When Indech gave you that circlet?"

"What are you aiming at?" He demands,looking up to level a glare at her. "I've been suspicious of you ever since the professor suddenly added you, a stranger with self-proclaimed amnesia, into the army. And while your prowess in battle is a positive factor, the fact that your appearance aligned with the Imperial spy's disappearance is not something one just forgets."

He does have a point... She thinks bitterly.

His composure has been broken. Mildred ignores the subdued snickers in her head and raises a hand, faith magic at the ready glowing in her hand. "It's me, Aubin," she says, staring straight into his eyes. Seteth stands abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he moves to shut the door.

"What do you mean?" He asks, shock apparent in both expression and tone. "You look...different."

"As do you," Mildred counters, remembering Cichol with shorter hair tied in a small ponytail. He releases a frustrated sigh, moving back to his chair.

"No, I mean you look nothing like you did before." Mildred tilts her head at him, confused. The emotion is so apparent in the past several months that Mildred almost disregards it. The voices are silent once more.

"What did I use to look like?" She asks cautiously. Seteth stares at her, mouth opening then closing again, not unlike a gaping fish.

"What do you remember?" He says instead. Mildred brushes the tips of her ears subconsciously.

"I know that...something happened at Zanado. I remember guarding Mother's tomb, a storm of acid rain. I remember sounds...roaring. Some of them were human, most of them, the loud ones, sounded like those of beasts. I remember a large man, standing in front of me with gashes across his body."

Seteth grimaces as if remembering something distasteful. "I see..."

"What did I use to look like?" Mildred asks again. Seteth sighs.

"Nevermind. It's just been a long time..." Mildred yawns suddenly, hearing Chester hiss something to Mao who throws her hands up, eyes wide. Aelura is holding her head, looking very confused. Mildred relates.

"You really should be going to bed," Seteth continues, having noticed Mildred's yawn. "We'll be marching to Arianrhod to secure the rest of Western Faerghus soon."

Arianrhod...

"I've always wanted to go there!" Mao exclaims cheerfully.

"Is it because you've never tried the food there?" Aelura accuses in a teasing tone, causing Mao to pout.

"Let me enjoy the quality of good food," Mao retorts. "And who knows...the food might go well with the scenery of the famous Fortress City."

"The food could be bad," Chester states, ever the realist. Mao smacks him with her wing.

"What are you doing just standing there?" Aelura whisper-hisses. "Go to sleep, he said!"

Mildred awkwardly shuffles out of the office and to her room.

But what did he mean when he said I look nothing like before?

Chester winces, "It could just be what he said, 'It's been a long time'..."

Mildred scowls, knowing that he's lying, but she doesn't press. Instead she buries herself beneath her blankets and forces herself to sleep, the spirits bickering in the background.

-

"GLENN!"

Maris jumps at least four feet in the air upon hearing Holst burst through the door with an enthusiastic greeting, making Glenn laugh.

"Don't be so loud," Glenn chides through his subdued amusement. "Someone could hear you." Holst ignores him, sweeping the pair into a crushing hug.

"Who could blame me? It's been so long!" Holst lets them go, collapsing into a chair. Maris brushes himself off. "Did you see Hilda when you met up with Claude? Is she doing okay?" Suddenly his entire demeanor changes, but that's one of the many things about Glenn's friends; they're just a little bit strange. Holst frowns, worry creasing his face. Glenn shakes his head apologetically.

"We were in a bit of a rush getting here so we were unable to see her."

"Speaking of hurrying," Maris cuts in, waving the message Claude gave them. "We require assistance." He hands over the parchment, Holst flipping it open and skimming through. He raises his brows towards the end.

"Damn, you're going to speak to Nader?" Holst asks incredulously, grinning. "You're lucky Glenn! Getting to take a visit to Almarya, eh? And to request the forces of the Undefeated Nader?" He playfully shoves the former-knight's shoulder, earning him an eye roll from Glenn.

"Nader is one of the best Almyaran generals," Glenn explains. "And it so happens that we need your permission for us, and perhaps Almyaran reinforcements, to pass through since Claude is planning on teaming up with the Kingdom against the Empire." Holst frowns.

"Aw come on," he complains, standing and setting the parchment on his desk. "You can't possibly pass through without giving me a chance to get a one-up on you!"

"Oh, you know I can't resist a good spar," Glenn smirks, looking pleadingly at Maris, as if begging for him to join. Maris huffs, defeated by such a stare.

"I'll join too," he says, the three heading out to the nearest open space. With disguises of course. Holst has less of a reason, but it's all in an attempt to not draw attention to themselves.

"Really?" Glenn questions Maris' choice of disguise: a bright green scarf and a long red braid. Maris shrugs, braid swinging with the movement.

"If anyone is going to look for someone with short black hair, they won't even touch someone with red hair," he replies, staring at Glenn as if he just said the grass around them was purple. Holst laughs, swinging an axe over his shoulder.

"And I'm the guy with pink hair!" He laughs, head tilted upward. Glenn raises his hands up, eyes wide.

"I'm just saying that it looks..." He trails off, staring at Maris who rolls his eyes.

"It's supposed to look different, Fluffy." Maris wheezes at the end, referring to Glenn by the nickname Claude gave him. Holst laughs harder, both in response to Maris laughing and Glenn's nickname.

"Whatever!" Glenn scowls, spinning a lance and taking a stance. "Less talking, more sparring."

A/N: This is a good place to stop for now. Get some rest, eat some food. The story will wait for you :)