There was something strange about realizing just how unprepared one is for the world. It had been what, six months since she had disembarked into Charon? It didn't really matter how long it had been since she brought Phigaro along with her on this journey and began searching for the funds to pay off her familial debt. It didn't matter how long she walked or how often she stopped in places, for Thalia was consistently reminded that she was running out of time.

Her parents had issued her one year, one year to send back as much money as they needed for her debt. The year was nearly halfway over, and she was still short tens of thousands of solars. It was starting to really weigh on her, and it made Thalia realize just how cruel this journey was.

She was in Sky Peak Village for the time being, having picked up a few odd jobs here and there on the way. They paid her good money, but no amount of money was good enough. It was growing ever so frustrating, realizing that her deadline was coming closer and closer and she was getting no closer to the end.

Then again, a strange part of Thalia felt something else. Currently the moon elf was just out of town, walking through the rural landscapes that amassed the mountainous region. Phigaro was flying around her head, soaring through the air in all of his iridescent glory. Oftentimes he would repeat tiny snippets from tavern songs they had heard on their travels, but even when he forgot those he remembered those same three notes. Thalia continued to walk, having to remind herself to not tread too far out of the fury she was feeling.

Fury. That's what it was.

After leaving the Ash Lands, meeting Del and departing northward to seek out work, Thalia's heart weighed twice as heavy in her chest. She still felt bitter about that, about worrying the blacksmith to the point where she had to inspect the shameful damage done to her body. It didn't matter that it was well over 50 years ago that it happened, the wounds were still fresh in her mind. She covered her left side still, electing to not sew it to her face this time, but the woman still had to live with the fact that someone saw her most vulnerable parts. Someone knew the story of her eye, and it made her feel disgusting.

A lot of realizations had hit Thalia since then, the fact of the matter that her parents were only a hair's breadth away from being classified as evil was one of those. Her journey that she had left for was starting to look more obsolete, pointless. And yet there was still that simpering part of her that just wished for something better, that they were better. That they still loved her.
They had to, or at least that's what she told herself.

The point was, Thalia was stuck. Abandoned, in all honesty. They knew she couldn't succeed, and as such there was no reason for her to be collecting money for her parents, if she could even call them that. And yet if she didn't, she would be truly alone. To wander, a husk of a pathetic little girl who failed to protect her family. She wouldn't be any different from the monsters she sees wandering Zeinav Desert, aimless and lost to their madness as they meant the life they once had. She could only hope that if that were to happen she could become like Rosen, blissfully kind and misunderstood.

At some point during her silent lament, Phigaro landed on top of Thalia's head, causing her to jolt violently with a shout. The small thing crowd at her, concerned, and Thalia let out a shaky sigh. She stood off to the side of the road, sitting on a large rock a good bit away with a groan. She held out her palms, an invitation for the magpie griffin to climb in, to which he took invitingly and scrambled onto her shoulder. He crooned sadly to her, sensing her distress and offering to preen her hair (it was so cute how he asked, nipping gently at the ribbon on her neck to get her attention).

“Ah, I'm sorry, Phi. Let's just rest here for a bit, mkay?” She assured the small creature, allowing for him to help her relax in the only way he knew how.

Still, Thalia didn't know what to do. Her limbs felt like lead and her body like the corpse she felt she was, she knew she was. Her eye cast up to the sky, having half a mind to drink from the gourd at her hip but deciding against it for once in her life. She would head back later, right now Thalia needed time to breathe and think, before she made a rash decision.

Even with all the “life experience in the world” as some might consider the elvenfolk to possess, it was still possible to find yourself blindsighted by the grim and unexpected. No - perhaps it is because of that lifespan that Cyran has found himself so utterly drained by everything that has happened as of late. When you approached his age in years, it was difficult to comprehend change on such a grand scale. The world was moving too fast for him, and Cyran felt like he was barely clinging to a lifeboat in a storm trying to weather it all.

The destruction of his orphanage had only been a herald of what was to come. Nearly losing Cirice in a battle with the origin matter, watching her turn against him in an attempt to beguile Marlow, the cultists who had kidnapped Del from under his nose in an attempt to re-forge her into a weapon of mass destruction… Lunala, he was exhausted. Cyran felt stretched far too thin, torn every which way until even his shadows felt run ragged and exhausted. There was no shortage of work to be done. Monsters, people that needed eliminating… Cyran thought that perhaps throwing himself into his work might banish those nasty thoughts and fears that cling to him like an old, ratty jacket, but it only left him all the more weary.

He needed a vacation. But somehow, every fucking attempt at normalcy he worked towards crumbled and fell apart in his hands. Even the date he’d enjoyed with Del had been interrupted by the appearance of a magical painting from an enchanted gallery. He was not a paranoid man, but if it weren’t for the fact that the rest of the world seemed to be in the same dire straits as him, Cyran might begin to wonder if he was cursed. But as it were, he was nothing special. Just another unfortunate man in the mass of people who’d experienced nothing but loss over the past few months. The only difference was that he wasn’t strong enough to bear it all.

Why wasn’t he strong enough?

Cyran had managed to keep up a brave face for Del, at the very least. After everything she’d been through, she deserved someone put together and confident, and strong enough to bear her burdens and ease her fears. She’d dealt with the people chasing after her for so long… but she wasn’t alone anymore. Cyran wanted her to be able to lean on him, but that was difficult when he was hardly worth depending on. Brittle, crumbling at the slightest provocation. Cyran was nothing more than a rusty knife that was only useful when you wished to give your opponent tetanus. Useful when it came to a certain situation, and he couldn’t even do that right. He’d miserably failed his rescue attempts to help Del, after all.

And yet…

Life still carried on.

Despite it all, Cyran still lived. His kids were still safe and okay, and so was Del. He had that much at least.

And Cyran would always be grateful to hold that for as long as the world would allow him.

But there was still work to be done. As a prospective member of the Winged Expeditionary Force, he was on call to deal with monsters and beasts of all persuasion. An Angel beast had been spotted lurking around the edges of the city, and the assassin had been tasked with disposing of it on his own. After a long day of hunting and stalking his prey with no results, Cyran could use a bit of reprieve. He was on his way to searching for an inn when he spotted a familiar shock of white hair in the crowd. Given that Thalia had last mentioned that she was headed for the Cradle, Cyran shouldn’t have been surprised to see her here. And yet, he couldn’t stop the wide, surprised smile from growing on his face.

“Thalia!” He called, raising his hand above the crowd to catch her attention before breezing gracefully through the sea of people. He found her perched on a rock, Phigaro resting on her shoulder. It made him happy to see the avian companion still with her. But something seemed… off, with the young woman. There was none of the exuberance he’d seen in her the first time they met.

That wasn’t going to stop him from sweeping her into a big hug.

It looked like she needed the comfort as much as he did.

“Goodness, it’s been a while. How have you been?” He asked kindly, once he’d released her. “Have you been enjoying the sights? Seeing the world? Making sure to eat enough?”

Thalia wasn’t expecting to be talked to today, fully expecting to entertain Phigaro all afternoon until she drank herself simple. It was strange though, as the more that the days passed, the less that she wanted to. Maybe that was for the better. Still, she was exhausted and bored out of her mind; nothing she was doing was working to distract her. Maybe she should just divulge again, just for a day...
As she was having this thought, a familiar voice caught her attention. She couldn’t imagine why it was familiar until Phigaro looked up as well, stopping his ministrations and scrambling down her body to start urgently screeching, flapping his shimmering wings in excitement. Thalia looked over, and it was then that she saw him: too much black, a too kind disposition and a caring yet excited smile on his face…

“Oh holy shit!” Thalia nearly shouted, standing up so fast that Phigaro had to take flight so he wouldn’t fall. It was like all past exasperation had been kicked aside for later, and Thalia met Cyran in the middle, giving him a hug back.

It had been what, six months since their last meeting? The change in how she hugged was noticeable, like she’d gotten a few more since they last met and was finally getting the hang of it again. It also showed just how much of that hug she needed in how tightly she held him back, tighter than anyone she’d done this with.

When Cyran pulled back, Thalia was grinning, brimming with excitement at seeing one of her (now established) favorite people. She was absolutely frazzled, and Phigaro flew over their heads in glee. “Oh my gods, it is you! G-Geez, you really snuck up on me…” She laughed, a bit of her spark reigniting. It looked like she was fighting herself not to cry, finding that it hurt a little too much now.

“I’ve been better, but like, who’s counting, am I right?” Thalia smiled, waving her hand to minimize the absolute nightmare sequence that was her mind at the moment. “Geez, how long has it been? It’s been, like, fuckin’ ages since I’ve seen you or something. Have you been getting my letters?”

Thalia had been sending letters to Cyran every few weeks or so, usually talking about what she was feeling and where she was. She didn’t tell him specifics, for example she said she “passed through Thunderhoof Village”, but she never said anything about being possibly wanted and/or banned from the place. Most of her letters were intentionally vague, mostly out of context rants or talks about what she’d seen. A part of her didn’t expect Cyran to respond, as she was used to not getting them back.

Phigaro let out a happy cry, landing on top of Cyran’s head with zero warning, and Thalia let out a laugh, trying to hold it in. “P-Phigaro! That’s rude!” She snorted as he started using his front talons to mess in Cyran’s hair. Thalia reached up to carefully remove him, kicking his feline legs in protest.

“Geez, sorry about him. He’s been demanding attention lately. Yeah, you have!” She added as Phigaro squawked in indignance, flipping him onto his back in the way she knew disarmed him. Thalia ignored his complaints for being rotated, refocusing on Cyran. “So what brings you here?”

He had to suppress a laugh at Thalia’s sudden expletive, shouted over the crowds without a care in the world. Thalia stood so abruptly that her motion jostled Phigaro from his resting place, jogging to meet Cyran in the middle and return the embrace. Based on the way she squeezed him around the middle like a mama bear trying to smother their child with love, she’d been practicing her hugs. It was a joy to see such a bright smile on her face. Even Phigaro seemed to delight in the happy reunion, fluttering around their heads in response to all the excitement.

“Goodness, I’m sorry to startle you.” He apologized, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. He was a rather quiet person, and not someone tended to notice in the crowd despite the dark clothes he often donned. Cyran just didn’t have much of a presence. It was useful for the nature of the work he did, but it generally lended to situations like this.

His happiness at seeing her again faltered when she expressed that her journey through the continent hadn’t been as well as he’d hoped.

“I’m counting.” He said quietly, before Thalia changed the subject.

He had indeed been getting her letters, and replying wherever he could. In the wake of the incident with the Cult of Vulcadreus, Cyran had been hesitant to leave his home for some time, and had the pleasure of receiving her correspondence during the sea of uncertainty and turbulence. He hadn’t told her about the attempted kidnapping on Del and subsequently himself - more than anything while Thalia was exploring the world, she deserved kind words and the best that the world had to offer.

But he’d thoroughly enjoyed hearing from her, and grateful that she’d actually decided to take him up on his offer to write. Though they’d parted ways on good terms… part of him always worried that he’d made her uncomfortable.

Though his parenting alarms went off at the intentional vagueness in her correspondence, like she was trying to downplay some trouble she’d gotten into. It was the same technique Cirice used when she wanted to hide something she’d done from him… like doing thousands of solars of property damage to Veliky’s company in a botched break in.

He wasn’t going to press Thalia about it, though. Unlike Cirice, Thalia wasn’t actually his child in any capacity. That didn’t mean he couldn’t worry. Based on some of the offhand comments she’d made upon their last meaning Cyran couldn’t imagine that her home life in Eclipse City was entirely savory. She likely didn’t have anyone looking after her as she wandered. And by the gods he was to going to leave her alone if she needed guidance.

“It’s been about… six months.” He counted backwards on his fingers before giving a satisfied nod. “And I have been. I hope you’ve been getting my letters in return. My apprentices are usually good at tracking down travelers when I need to get letters delivered.” Thalia would usually find Cyran’s own responses delivered by the shy Oriole or the stony-faced Andromeda.

He would have said more if it weren’t for Phigaro diving for his head, burying in his hair like he wanted to nest. Cyran laughed, inclining his head so Thalia had an easier time grabbing the energetic songbird from his head and rotating him around in the air. Phigaro let out a little squawk in protest, his little talons waving in the air.

“It’s no problem.” Cyran replied, reaching over to run a finger over Phigaro’s elegant plume. “There’s no shame in wanting a bit of love, is there, little Phi?” He cooed, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. Still keeping his eyes trained on the elegant little creature, Cyran replied, “There are a couple of dangerous creatures in the area that require my expertise to be taken care of. I’m in town for a few days while the hunt takes place. What about you? Any success finding work? I can help you find some if you need.”

“Six?! Holy damn, time flies huh?” Thalia smiles, her face lighting up as Cyran asks if she's been receiving letters. She snorted a little bit, recalling his messengers well. It was nigh impossible to forget about either of them, they were both so polarizing in personality it made Thalia laugh.

"Yeah, I've definitely been getting your letters. One of your messengers, never said her name… I mean technically neither of them said their name, I guess I should say that I didn't ask her name. I definitely should have though… anyway.” Thalia cut herself off from whatever line of thought she was going to, waving her hand as if she was wiping the slate clean before speaking again. While she didn't get much louder, Thalia's excitement and ease was apparent in how languid her vocabulary got. “She was super intimidating, I thought she wanted to like, chuck a chair at me with how she was glaring. Ohhhh unless that was her resting face... that's probably what it was. Anyway, saw her a couple of times, the quiet one was more scarce. Didn't talk much, real polite though. All they said each time was that it was a letter from you; seemed real, like, reclusive or whatever so I never really asked who they were out of respect. But they’re your apprentices? That's pretty cool!”

Thalia was still holding Phigaro belly up in her hands, and he still kicked and protested being flipped. It was almost as if she did this often, which she did. She had developed something she colloquially dubbed “air jail”, where she does about the same thing, but holds him in the air on his back instead. It was hardly a punishment, but the little magpie was a literal handful sometimes. He did nuzzle into Cyran’s too forgiving touch, and eventually Thalia let him flip back over on his own so he could get proper attention, rubbing his head on Cyran's hand like a cat. She'd probably regret this later, giving into his adorable little crooning. He was so spoiled, but she's supposed that she didn't really need to make that clear by verbalizing it.

“Hmm, dangerous creatures huh? I think I heard something about that, but I didn't want to meddle where I'm not useful to be honest.” Thalia places a hand on her hip, thinking back to the past couple of months. “To describe work…”

Hell, was the most apt way to describe it. She was getting no closer to her goal, and at this point it was quite frivolous an effort. All the money that she could have used to sustain herself was being filtered back to a pair of people who had, for better or for worse, been using her as a cash cow. The moment that she couldn't make do on her promise, she'd be kicked out. That looming reality was becoming very apparent the more jobs she took on, paying for an effort that her mind knew was hopeless. No amount of money would ever be enough.

“… If I'm honest with you, work’s good.” Thalia confessed. It was Cyran. He hadn't judged her yet, so a little honesty wouldn't be too bad, right? Phigaro took flight again, looping around them. “Like, really good. It's not hard to find work anywhere around here, and there's always something going on. I mean yeah, not a lot of it is pretty, but… ah geez, how do I explain this?”

Thalia crossed her arms, jutting out her hip as she struggled to think of a better way to word this. She looked conflicted, jutting her lip out into a thoughtful pout. Had Cyran been paying attention the last time they had met, Thalia’s eye patch looked a little bit different. Or at least, it looked like one was supposed to, no longer sewn into the skin around her eye, the wounds where the stitches were healing over and permanently darkening the skin. After meeting with Del, she really had not had a reason to keep it stuck to her face anymore. Still, it was still taking getting used to.

Ultimately, Thalia couldn't find the correct words, and she shrugged. “Holy wow, I cannot speak Common today. I have a few more… weeks? Months? Hell if I know. It's kind of hard to establish a proper deadline when all you're told is that you have till the end of the year...” She grumbles this part, trying to play off her bitterness, forgetting that she's not alone for a split second. “Ugh, anyway. When’d you get in? You heading anywhere?”

Cyran nodded in understanding as she described Andromeda’s cold and standoff-ish nature. He was glad she didn’t seem too bothered by the young woman’s intensity, as most often were when they met her. “That’s Andromeda.” He explained, using her code-name as he often did when introducing his students. “She’s a bit intimidating for those who don’t know her, but when you get to know her, she can be surprisingly sweet, in her own ways. She’s got a lot of anger and she doesn’t yet know how to deal with it. She wouldn’t throw a chair at you… I think.”

It was a work in progress with Andromeda. Del had honestly made great strides in the past few months, especially after the earthquake that devastated their home. Andromeda was still standoffish and short to those she didn’t know, but she’d come a long way. She no longer acted with a ferocity as if she had something to prove. No - now she had focus.

“The young man is Oriole.” He continued. “He’s a bit shy, so he was probably a bit intimidated by you. But, yes, they’re both my apprentices. They’re incredibly skilled.” There was no small amount of pride in his voice when he spoke about his students - they’d come such a long way since he’d taken them under his wing. But both of them were so serious… even when they spent time with Del, they treated it like a meeting between student and master. Maybe they would benefit from spending more social time with people their age. And Thalia would certainly benefit from having more friends, too. Perhaps next time he arranged a meeting with her, he’d bring the two apprentices with him.

“I think you’d like them if you got the chance to know them.” Cyran said casually, speaking like someone with no ulterior motives with regards to setting up a meeting between the young elven woman and his own students. “If you ever get the chance to visit the orphanage, it might give them an opportunity to take a break from training themselves.”

He gave her a relieved nod when she mentioned that she generally tried to keep away from dangerous jobs like monster hunts - though she seemed like the kind of girl with a wild streak, she wasn’t acting outwardly reckless in search of money. Though she wasn’t entirely telling the truth when she said that work was good.^[1]

Cyran crossed his arms - not on guard, but… worried, perhaps.

As most would learn quickly after getting to know him, it was difficult to get a secret past the information-gathering assassin’s keen senses. A lie of omission was not technically quite the same, but he was already on alert for the fact that Thalia had been sugarcoating her journey so far. That, combined with the stitching around her patch where it had been removed, all unequivocally added up to the realization that Thalia was not as okay as she presented herself.

His gaze softened, glancing around them. They were still in public - not that anyone was paying them much kind, given that most common folk didn’t want to engage in the business of a pair of elves who didn’t particularly look like they ought to be messed with. They were receiving cursory glances, perhaps a few prying ears, but the sheer noises of the city were overwhelming. He almost missed the offhand comment under her breath, speaking about some sort of deadline.

Cyran bit his lip, struggling to find the right words. “You know what? Let’s not talk about work for the time being. The monster hunt has been stressing me out…” He lied, hoping that she would take the comment at face value when he truly just wanted to take her mind off of whatever was bothering her, only for a few moments, “I want to hear about you, kiddo. If you’ve seen any new sights, met new people… I was planning on paying a visit to the Sky Gardens while I was here, and you’re more than welcome to join me if you’ve got the time for it. I want to hear what you and Phigaro have been up to.”

---

1. Insight Rune

Thalia sounded out Andromeda's name, mouthing it to herself and keeping a mental note. She did the same with Oriole, flipping between the two names a couple of times in her head before smiling. They were fun names to have, pretty, even. She made a mental note that next time she meets them she would address them properly. Especially considering that Cyran was basically beaming with pride as he spoke of them, they seemed like they were worthwhile to get to know. She laughed a little bit, a short sound that expelled from her nose as she caught the look in the moon elf’s eye.

“Meeting them sounds nice, I was curious about your whole orphanage thing that you mentioned. I'd love to meet them if they're like, down and stuff.” Thalia easily acquiesced, excited at the prospect of something new. A small part of her wondered what it would be like to be around children again, since it had been so many years. She missed playing with them, strangely. Eclipse City didn't have many unsullied memories, but the kids there were always so sweet.

It was obvious that Cyran wasn't completely buying what she said about her success in work, and she looked away a little bit… was this shame? Just a little bit. She wasn't exactly lying, just omitting the complete truth. Besides, nobody needed the nitty gritty details like that, especially after just meeting for the second time ever. Surely they weren't strangers by this point but… Thalia stopped herself from growing too guilty, refocusing on what Cyran had to say.

Thankfully he shifted the topic of conversation, and Thalia exhaled through her nose, relieved and terrible at hiding it. She didn't even care if what he was saying was also not true, happy for a change. The invite to the Sky Gardens was more than welcome, and Thalia’s eye lit up with glee. “I would love that! Gods there's so much to tell you, so much to tell you!”

She didn't seem to care that she was in public too much, as usual making a ruckus with her voice alone then shaking her hands in barely contained excitement. Phigaro, hearing his name, swooped down to land on her shoulder, flapping his wings in tandem with her movements.

“You have no idea, I've been soooo busy. Not to say you haven't been, but I haven't sat down in weeks!” Thalia was partially exaggerating. In a movement that was very uncharacteristic of her typical behavior, she slung an arm over Cyran’s shoulder, already walking and dragging him along. “It's kind of nuts, yknow? A few months ago I was just starting out, but me and Phigaro’ve been just kinda movin’ and it's just been...amazing! It's so insane how big the rest of the Charon is, how different too! Everything is so different and new and… well, I mean I kinda got kicked out of Thunderhoof Village, but it was pretty for like, the 10 minutes I wasn't wanted.”

She then let out a bubbly laugh, tossing her head back. Thalia was just running her mouth for the most part, clearly excited to finally speak about her adventures rather than write. She wasn't the strongest writer, but where she failed in writing she absolutely excelled in talking. Still she managed to pause in between, try not to talk too much on the off chance that Cyran becomes uncomfortable with her. There wasn't an inch of her that felt regretful for leaving, but a part of her was still a bit guilty, her heart laden with rocks and black smoke that was threatening to bubble up at any false misstep. But she shoved it down, in favor of letting her mouth run for her.

“I would love to have you visit the orphanage, if you’d like!” Cyran brightened, delighted at the prospect of having more visitors to his home. It wasn’t that he wasn’t on guard about who came and went through Shade’s Valley, especially given what had transpired there as of late - if anything it was the opposite. Cyran’s worry had set him into overprotective mode, where only people he knew and trusted were allowed in or out of the building. It made the kids feel rather isolated and lonely. It was difficult for them to understand that it was for their own good.

But if Thalia came to visit, it would be something new and interesting. And for all her eccentricities Cyran got the feeling she’d be good with kids. They’d certainly enjoy stories from the outside world.

But for now, the two decided to make their way to the Sky Gardens. Though Cyran had been the one to offer the invitation, Thalia was the one to latch onto it and throw her arm around his shoulder, practically dragging him through the streets with an enthusiasm he did his best to match, breaking into an awkward, bent half-jog to match her pace. All the while, she spoke in excited tones that Cyran’s experience with high-energy kids helped him decipher. She sounded so excited to get to talk about the world she’d seen, and how much she’d explored…

Wait.

Cyran stopped, something like horror dawning on his face.

“Now how in the world did you get kicked out of Thunderhoof?” He asked, incredulous, though careful not to raise his voice and startle her. He’d gotten the feeling from their first meeting that she was a bit of a hell-raiser, but he hadn’t expected her to immediately start getting into danger the first chance she got. And she certainly hadn’t mentioned this to him in any of her letters! “What happened? What did you - what - how?”

Thalia already figured Cyran wouldn’t be too excited to hear about her getting barred from an entire village within the first ten minutes of arriving, but hearing his genuine still surprised her a bit. She made a sheepish expression, thinking back to the incident and laughing softly.

“Ah, yeahhh.” She drew out the word, less guilty or regretful and more awkward, like a child explaining why they found it necessary to make another kid cry on a playground. “They weren’t letting someone in because he’s like, ‘scary-looking’ or whatever. A, uh, an undead person. I thought it was bullcrap so we may have taken out a few guards, stole the keys to the village and got chased all around town. It was honestly pretty fun, but I think we’re both banned from the place now…”

Thalia’s smile broadened as she thought back, laughing as she recalled it. It’s like she was reliving it in real time, her eye alight. “I’d say they deserved it, would’ve kept a few tokens if we weren’t chased out so quickly. Sooo many teeth knocked loose, lemme tell you, I wish I pocketed a few for you and Phi. I don’t think I’ve done anything to get put on a watch elsewise though!” Thalia added that last sentence in an effort to quell Cyran’s lingering worry, waving her hand dismissively. A part of her felt bad, but that was mostly on Cyran’s behalf. She didn’t want to worry him, and she was hyperaware of her actions, especially considering how vague her letters were.

“I wouldn’t be too miffed about it but uh…well, stuff happens yknow? They weren’t too keen to see me either, I was really disruptive.” Thalia scratched her cheek, trying to recall anything else before getting into the nitty gritty details. “In all honesty, the journey’s been a lot of running around and picking up jobs where I can. It’s fun…”

Thalia trailed off. It was hard to articulate what she was trying to say with so much on her mind, word vomit only doing so much for her. Her energy dwindled, and it didn’t immediately bounce back like she wished it would. Explaining away some of her adventures was easy, but there was still one memory burned into her retina. Sensing her distress, Phigaro crooned into her ear, nibbling her earlobe affectionately as she goes quiet.

“…I dunno how to explain it over letters, but it has been a bit rough.” Thalia said lowly, somber but trying to keep that same happy demeanor. She’s starting to take note of the people now, evident in how she averts her gaze to the ground.“Not all of it, but like, as of recently I’m really starting to wonder just how much I’m willing to do. I have a debt to pay like I told you but…it’s starting to look like I can’t do it.” 
Thalia shook her head, forcing the thought away. “But this is nice! I get to see you again, I’ve been dying to for months.”

Cyran tried not to look too stressed while he waited for Thalia to answer his question. Internally, he couldn’t help but wonder why he always seemed to meet serial troublemakers who were determined to give him a heart attack with their antics. It was all worth it, though, he knew. Cyran would much rather Thalia be able to have someone in her corner who she could call when she needed to get out of a mess rather than have to deal with the fallout of this chaos alone. Already, he was doing the mental preparations of what it would take to get to Thunderhoof and erase the bounty on her head. All the while, he listened to her describe what she’d gotten into - not guilty that she’d done it, but perhaps guilty that she’d gotten caught.

Well. Looking on the bright side, at least she’d gotten in trouble helping someone.

“I can’t say whether they deserved it or not…” He mumbled, only slightly alarmed at the fact she’d wanted to collect teeth as trinkets. “Wait, we?” He repeated, finally catching onto the pronoun she’d used. “Who were you with? You weren’t beating up the guards with the undead person, were you? Who were you with?”

His first instinct was to admonish her for worrying him, but Cyran bit his tongue. Though they were friendly, it wasn’t as if he was actually her father, or had any right to lecture her about what she did or didn’t do. That wasn’t his place. All he could do was offer advice to the best of his ability and made sure that Thalia kept herself safe. “Look, I, um, understand the need for young adult rebellion or whatever it is. But next time, instead of causing a scene and getting banned from an entire town… maybe just sneak whoever you’re helping inside instead? But obviously you don’t have to listen to me - just… I’ll look into it.” He waved a hand, as if brushing the subject, and his anxiety, away. “I just worry about you. This isn’t the worst thing in the world, but what if it had been something worse than pissing off the village guard? What if you angered the Sol City guard, or a noble with considerably more wealth and influence?”

He sighed.

“I fear to think what might have happened if things had been worse and I didn’t know what happened.”

At least she seemed to be having fun on her journey… or so she said. But all at once Thalia’s demeanor shifted, as if an unsavory thought had occurred to her and she couldn’t cover it up with a smile and her usual flippant attitude. Cyran fell silent, listening to her explanation of this debt she’d been saddled with.

He stopped walking for a minute.

“How much do you owe?” Cyran asked, his voice purposefully neutral. It felt safer than admitting that he was already angry on her behalf, that it wasn’t right for a debtor to take advantage of her.

Unfortunate, that he’d not had the opportunity to speak with Del about her meeting with the young moon elf. With everything that had happened between him and his partner, they hadn’t had the opportunity to sit and talk. About the horrible things Del had learned about the nature of Thalia’s debt. But this clearly upset her - and this talk of not willing to do what it took to pay it off worried him. He had the terrible, sinking feeling that someone was taking advantage of her. And if Thalia was in trouble… then Cyran was more than willing to take care of the problem if need be. As ashamed that he was to admit it, there was little he wouldn’t do for those he cared about. No matter how unsavory the solution was.

Thalia immediately had to stare at a wall that they passed once Cyran caught on to the fact that she, indeed, had called upon the help of her friend. It's made even worse when he asks twice, and she averts eye contact like a mischievous cat that was caught. “…They deserved it.” Is all she says after a moment, holding her ground firmly. She's about to leave it at that when she shrugs, deciding why not. “A friend of mine named Rosen, he's no bad influence or anything. I wouldn't be too upset, they're not like, super dad. They fell down a hill in that heavy ass armor soooo technically that's their fault.”

The nonchalance in her tone should be alarming, but it really isn't, what with who she is. Thalia does take his words into consideration, though a bit begrudgingly. All she does is hum in response. She knows that Cyran isn't saying it out of irritation or the need to control, so she was going to try her hardest (huge emphasis on “try”) to be a little more discreet. At least he was condoning her helping someone, just at a quieter level.

But when Cyran asked her how much she owed, Thalia hesitated… hard. It was obvious that it was something big in how she went silent, her steps slowing to a halt with him. The last time she had told somebody about this... well it wasn't pretty. Memories of that night were not quite pleasant, even after meeting Del, as the circumstances were extremely uncomfortable and sporadic. It seemed that Thalia had a tendency to have mental breakdowns in front of people, but Del had more or less received the worst part of it.

“… 10,000.”

It’s said with all the gravity that such a number came with, Thalia no longer joking or jesting. The reality around this was so much harsher now that she had said it out loud since seeing Del, and Thalia's face had fallen fully.

“It's for my parents, I'm more or less paying them back for taking care of me when I wasn’t supposed to be taken care of anymore. I honestly don't know how much more I have to get, I think I stopped keeping count a while ago because… well it's kinda pointless, isn't it?” A humorless laugh escapes her, but it sounds nothing like her. Thalia's enthusiasm for everything had dwindled ever since she had left Lilicors Village, but in her eye there was nothing more sure than this: something really bad had happened, and it was starting to sink in. “Everything really sucks right now, Cyran. I mean it's always sucked but… not this bad.”

Cyran did not look any more reassured at Thalia’s churlish insistence that they deserved it, as if that was the only thing Cyran cared about. Truth be told, Cyran didn’t question whether they deserved it or not - that was the last thing on his mind. What mattered to him was her possibly painting a target on her back without knowing it. She met his worry with a stubborn nonchalance that made Cyran stop, sigh, and reevaluate what he was saying. The last thing he wanted was to frustrate her, when their own friendship was fragile as it was. “Sorry… I wasn’t trying to lecture you or anything of the sort.” He said after a moment’s thought, the worry ebbing away from the tire as he forced himself to calm. No one liked a worrywart, as fragile as brittle glass. “I’m sure you handled yourself just fine. I worry, is all. Nor am I telling you that how you reacted or handled the situation was wrong. You protected someone that needed help… how could anyone ever be upset about that?”

Besides, he could hardly judge on what was and wasn’t moral. His own compass had stopped pointing north decades ago.

That didn’t mean he didn’t worry about the fallout, or what might happen when Thalia’s stubborn and wild streak encountered someone that she couldn’t handle. Thalia seemed like the kind of young woman who threw herself into things with wild abandon, uncaring whether it was something more powerful than her, or something she couldn’t take care of on her own. The kind of recklessness that was only born from someone who didn’t care about her own safety and well-being. Given how he’d seen her react with flippancy to her own life, and the way she seemed to treat the care that others bestowed on her as this foreign, inscrutable thing, she hadn’t been taught how to treat herself with love. How to be cautious. He hadn’t known her for very long, but it was easy for Cyran to see that there wasn’t a challenge that she wouldn’t tackle if she thought it was worth it, regardless of herself.

Which is why it was so concerning that this debt had left her so… so scared.

He kept his face carefully calm as Thalia listed off the number, the humor completely vanished from her voice. Ten thousand… a high number, one that made him shudder thinking about it. Back before his exile, the number would have been an inconsequential one. The kind of change that the elite merchants of Moonglade threw around like it meant nothing - the kind of change that ruined the lives of people who found themselves indebted to the nobility. People forced to dig a deeper and deeper hole just to stay afloat above the water. It broke his heart to hear that Thalia had been taken advantage of by someone like this. Who in the world had done such a thing-?

It’s for my parents.

And Cyran’s heart stopped in his chest.

Thalia continued talking, trying to explain exactly why she thought she was in debt to her parents, her struggles trying to collect the money, an exercise in futility. How dire things were right now. But Cyran remained silent. Deadly silent. No words of sympathy or kindness. No solutions. And if Thalia were to look back at him, she would perhaps see for the first time that his general air of calm patience had completely melted away, replaced with cold, unyielding fury.

The shadows seemed to cling to him, darkness cast in the yawning darkness cast from nearby buildings and the grayness of the clouds, reacting to his anger. But Cyran remained silent, his single visible eye dark and stormy. His hand itched for daggers that were not strapped to his belt, a target that was not in front of him. A father’s fury, embittered at the thought of someone else taking advantage of their child in such a way. Being a parent - it was not a transaction. It was not something that needed to be repaid. It was a privilege, plain and simple, to give your child a better life than you’d ever had, to make sure that they were loved and never wanted for the things that you had once been denied. That child didn’t ask to be born. This… this debt, this fucking farce of parenthood, just the thought of someone spewing that bullshit to their child as a pathetic excuse to inflict guilt upon them made ice freeze over in his veins.

“That’s bullshit.” He spat, furious on her behalf, unable to maintain his composure. Memories of his own father, that stern man who viewed his only child as an asset rather than a person, discarded when Cyran’s usefulness had dried up. He thought of his mother, a vapid woman who’d stood by and done nothing. The thought that Cyran owed Lormundel Fenastra his life because the man had chosen to exile him rather than end his pathetic life. Memories that melded with Thalia’s words, her fear, the guilt that she’d somehow been a bad, undeserving child simply for existing.

“That’s bullshit, and you don’t owe your parents anything.” He repeated, firmer this time. “It is a joy to have a child. It is their job to care for you, a duty they should take on with pride and love. Ungrateful bastards. You don’t owe them shit, you understand me? Never in a million years should a parent spout such awful lies. No. I-“ He breathed, forcing himself to calm to no avail. “I can’t. Thalia, that’s just not right. That’s not how a parent treats their fucking kid.”

Thalia knew that Cyran would be upset. If his letters back and their only in-person meeting together said anything, it was that the other moon elf wasn’t one for mistreatment. However, the very last thing that Thalia was expecting was for Cyran’s expression to fall so harshly from concern to something stronger: anger. It shouldn’t have been surprising, as she had often drank away those emotions before they surfaced. If it wasn’t that, she’d get into bar brawls and fights, an incredibly unhealthy salve for her mind.

But seeing Cyran with such an expression? Thalia could’ve sworn she saw the shadows move, clinging to him as an ominous cloak. Her eye couldn’t meet his for long, her heart sinking as she felt strangely…guilty. She didn’t mean to worry him even more, much less infuriate him. However, Thalia did note that he didn’t appear mad at her, a difference she was starting to get better at catching.

At his first words, Thalia flinched a bit, looking at him in surprise. She had no clue Cyran even had “bullshit” in his vernacular, and on any other day she would’ve probably laughed her ass off. But in this specific context it was a bit scarier. Thalia is silent as he continues, listening to him with an unreadable expression. It was odd, Cyran wasn’t lecturing her, even if his tone was so severe. He wasn’t angry with her, but rather at her family. Thalia averts her gaze when he attempts to change his tone, picking at a thread in her cardigan, and let out a shaky sigh.

“I know…” Thalia mumbles after a moment, a strangely resigned tone to her voice. It was as if she had accepted it, every ounce of what she was going through. “I know, okay? I-I get it…” Thalia amended her tone when her voice wavered, taking a sharp breath in. “But I really, really don’t have a choice. I just…look, Cyran, can we talk somewhere privately? I really don’t want to talk about this here.”

Thalia wanted to speak to Cyran about this. She wasn’t upset, she wasn’t gods damn it, but it wasn’t good to do this in public. It was clear that she wasn’t irritated with Cyran, simply uncomfortable. At some point she had started to hug herself, an unintentional coping mechanism she had developed as a child, running a thumb over her arm.

Silence.

Cyran forced himself to suck in a breath, and calm. To find that cool, serene place once more. There was no denying he was upset - seething, even - but he was no good to Thalia if he was losing his head like this. Even as she spoke, there was something lingering in the corners of her voice, something between discomfort and panic. Though he had not been snapping at her, his words still made her feel that way.

A Fenastra doesn’t lose their head. That had not been his name, nor his family, in some time. But the sentiment still lingered. One that echoed in his head whenever he lost his temper. Slowly, deliberately, Cyran forced his fists to unclench, his face from a borderline scowl to something more neutral. He got the feeling he’d scared her with those great, horrible feelings he’d felt on her behalf, protectiveness and anger and hatred for parents who would say such things to her. Right. Now wasn’t the time or place. And considering the home life she’d endured, her experience with her brother, raising his voice certainly wasn’t doing her any good.

He’d done this. Caused that look of panic, the waver in her voice like she was trying not to cry in public. Cyran closed his eye. Another deep breath.

“I… of course.”

But she did have a choice, though she perhaps did not know of it yet. All she had to do was ask Cyran and he would quietly take care of the problem. For her safety, he would.

“Then we won’t speak of it in public. I’m sorry for causing a scene.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, but there was no more playful sheepishness in his expression, no more worry. Just unfettered grief, something resigned and melancholy and old. Rarely did Cyran look his age. But he did now. “I just… there is nothing more reprehensible to me than hearing of parents taking advantage of their children.” And more than that, he didn’t like the utterly helpless look it painted on Thalia’s face. Someone he’d thought felt fearless, like nothing life threw her way could bother her. Despite everything horrible that she’d endured, her fight with her brother, her horrible family, not knowing how to express love or allow herself to receive it. She hadn’t stopped kicking, always moving, hoping to enjoy life.

But to see her like this, out of options and at her wits end, that made him angrier than anything.

His gaze softened, reaching out his hand as if to put it on her shoulder, or pat her head - but he paused, clearly thinking better of it given how uncomfortable he’d probably just made her. He settled for letting his hand linger in the air for a moment before it came to rest by his side once more.

“Alright.” He murmured. “Alright. We’ll go take this somewhere else. I’ve got an inn a little bit away from here. At the very least, let me buy you some food and help you get cleaned up, and… we’ll figure this out together, okay? One thing is for certain. You’re not dealing with this alone.”

Despite his fatigue, there was a finality to his tone. Thalia was not his child, but that didn’t matter. He was in a position to help Thalia, and she needed the help. There simply was nothing else to it. He started leading her through the streets, in a different direction they had been heading, until they reached a smaller building that was partially built of clay into the ground, a sturdy stone structure meant to withstand the Cradle’s storms. There didn’t seem to be many tourists lingering around this part of the city, which was precisely why Cyran picked this place. There was a lot of privacy here. Enough for the both of them to talk without fear of being eavesdropped on.

Thalia exhaled deeply once Cyran acquiesced, the tension still fresh in the air but at least they wouldn’t be under public eye anymore. Thalia struggled to make eye contact, but she managed, waving her hand with a sigh.

“It’s fine, seriously. Don’t apologize for feeling stuff, or whatever.” She brushed off, terrible at trying to ease the situation. As a distraction she pet Phigaro’s back, who had long fallen asleep on her shoulder. Thalia felt awful for putting this on Cyran, but she let herself hold back her bubbling, incessant apologies that she was going to end up battering him with by the end of the day.

Still, even with how much a furious Cyran made Thalia want to disappear and never re-emerge from the ether, Thalia couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved. He listened, and that was still something that meant so much to her, ever since she met him in Lilicors Village. Cyran was her first friend, and by proxy the first person she trusted in decades, it wasn’t a wonder why she cared so much about his reactions. Thalia followed Cyran in mostly nervous silence, taking a deep, shuddering breath as she steeled her nerves. She clenched her jaw as the darker parts of her mind started to creep up on her. It gave way to memories, some dating back a few months, others a few years. Some she was no stranger to, others were new. All of them were unwelcome, whispering and eating away at her psyche.

Thalia hugged herself a bit tighter as she kept her stride in time with Cyran, expression barely held together as she determinedly kept up with him. It was times like this where Thalia’s itching for a drink, realizing that everything was coming to a head all too soon and she’d have to deal with it all sober. This is going to suck…


“…I’m really sorry.” Thalia mumbles as they round a corner, vaguely recognizing the street leading to a few inns in the area. “Like really, seriously sorry in advance.”