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Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

---

Éliane had not expected to hear Izayoi’s story. She’d heard inklings of it, little bits and pieces from traveling around with the Mystrel woman during their journey together, but she had never actually enquired on it. It was far more of a traumatic tale than she had expected or, ultimately, even properly relate with. How could she, when she had lived a life that was as charmed as could be, up until the Valheimian attack?

It did, though, reinforce in her eyes that Valheim was once more the enemy, and needed to be removed from the world together with the Blight. Again, she felt that the two would ultimately be intertwined issues…

The news of even more Valheimian atrocities, interrupting their little tea party was yet another crime to add onto the mountain of evils. Without even understanding the situation in the capital, she was nearly immediately inclined to agree to Izayoi’s impassioned plea. Had she been younger, she might have immediately, jumped up alongside Izayoi, Rudolf, and Robin in rescuing this young lord from their clutches. After all, it had so many parallels to her own past. A running battle in a capital city to foil some nefarious plot, ultimately to the benefit of Skael, too. It sounded mightily familiar, and it urged on her battle lust.

But she wasn’t exactly in Solitude, with the entire backing of the Royal Guards to put down a nascent rebellion. No, this was the opposite—she would be helping Izayoi and a ragtag band of rebels in fighting an occupation force. It was the kind of thing that needed careful consideration, or they’d just end up alongside this Hien.

Of course, she’d still do it, but it just needed to be carefully done.

It would just have been nice to have a whole company of SEED agents to advise and execute it, as that was what they did best. She turned to Esben, who was already providing some very useful facts and questions to consider, and nodded.

“Since we’re talking a real battle, what exactly are the numbers are we working with here? Against an occupying force, I think forces like yours,” she gestured towards Ciradyl, before adding her questions ontop of Esben’s, “and us, have a very good asymmetric advantage. How many soldiers can Reisa muster to ambush us without compromising the rest of the occupation of the city? If we’re going to rescue him straight from the dungeons, what are the streets or the geography around his prison like?"

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

---

Éliane beamed at the shinobi’s response, which was the opposite of the one she’d given to Robin. “Straightforward but polite is my thing,” she agreed. Of course, she was blunt and rude when such things weren’t reciprocated –A certain Edrenian noble came to mind—but that was hardly a thing that she would mention in a conversation like this. She gave a bob of her head. “Chisa, then,” she replied. The particular subtleties of shinobi culture flew well over her head, but the Skaelan officer wasn’t so clueless to not notice the subtext behind her happiness, even if she didn’t fully understand it. Not wanting to reveal names in an occupied city was easy enough to understand, at least.

Appreciating the space that Esben made for her, she shrugged at his response. “I’m sure you’ll get another chance later,” she batted back.

A pause. “If there is coffee, I will be around.”

As it turned out, there was coffee, although what was available in this Valheimian-occupied place was a pale shadow of the quality she had when in Galahad’s city. It was predictable, but she was disappointed nonetheless.

Coffee woes aside, the rest of the stay in the village was uneventful, as was the trip to the occupied capital of Osprey as well. Éliane had been half expecting to be accosted by a Valheimian patrol, or even set upon by a small force at this point, but they journey went from seeing the peaks of the black towers of Kugane to seeing the walls of the city rise into view before directly approaching the gate unmolested.

It would appear the shinobi was telling the truth—and from the subsequent smooth entry, most of the party’s suspicions and the last of Éliane’s relatively low apprehension evaporated. Éliane remained privately impressed at the shinobi’s spycraft. It almost matched up to the skill of the SEEDs…

They were ushered into a modest building soon after that, to meet Izayoi’s apparent old friend. Ciradyl was a stunningly pretty lady, and before she did anything, she turned her gaze to the new redheaded addition to their party. Éliane had only known Miina for a short time, but she had already become intimately familiar with the Mystrel’s preferences, if she had to go by the way she always stammered and with her gaze always locking right onto her and Izayoi’s chests…

Sadly, the girl had been forewarned, so there was little entertainment to be had, but it was probably for the better.

Unlike Miina and some of the other members of the party, as the Skaelan representative, she was once again obligated to make an introduction. This time, she mirrored Galahad in greeting first, before introducing herself in her full manner as usual. “Éliane Laruelle, of the Household Guards of Skael. Officially, I’m here to behalf of Skael to put an end to the Blight, but it seems that cause is becoming more intertwined with the fight for Osprey the more we investigate.”

Her eyes, nonetheless were drawn towards the tea that had been poured for them, and the pleasant aroma that it emitted. Oh, it was no coffee, but Éliane could still recognize quality caffeine when she saw it. Bergamot was still a fine choice…

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

---

This journey was truly one of surprises. Most of it was generally of the unwelcome type—a Valheimr attack, roving bands of wildlife, unpleasant hosts, Gardening overreach, and a second Valheimr attack being the notable ones, but coffee delights and unexpected additions to the party were more welcome. Considering how they had met the party, Éliane thought that they had integrated remarkably well!

Integrating remarkably well didn’t mean they did in foreign land, though. Just like Éliane stood out like a sore thumb in her Guards uniform in Edrenian land, everyone else stood out as much as she did in Osprey, too. And that certainly extended to when they met a shinobi on the road.

Esben provided a very typical Garden-like analysis of the woman and the overall situation in Kugane at the behest of the strange draconic girl. Éliane was surprised at how forthcoming that analysis was, but it was definitely something that she wasn’t very good at. Ask her to plan or lead a battle, that she could do, but to give a fundamental analysis on the cloak and dagger business of a foreign occupied state… well, that was what SEED was for!

Really, they had nobody to blame but themselves if she bungled something again for them. After all, her main mission here was still to show the flag and investigate the blight. As far as Éliane was concerned, everything else was still secondary to that.

The encounter, at least, went well, and they were led through the desolate village into the inn. Given her mission, she wanted to properly introduce herself to the big-breasted shinobi woman, if just for diplomatic niceties (it would be very nice if foreign notables would actually be pleasant for once, but what could one do when meeting foreigners) but Robin had beaten her to the chase.

And bungled it.

Not that everybody could see that happening from far away. Nobody had to be an expert analyst at the Garden like Esben to tell how unlike Éliane’s uniform, the Edrenian one nearly made her persona-non-grata in Osprey…

And then Esben got in the way, too!

Approaching, she patted him on the shoulder and joined their conversation, more or less bullying through whatever subtly he was attempting with her typical blunt approach. It was more or less Robin style, but without the Edrenian element, the sparkles, or the kissing. Nearly identical, really.

“Apologies about my fellow countryman. He’s a clumsy fellow. I am Éliane Laruelle, of the Household Guards. I’ve been intending to meet more Ospreyan representatives as a part of our investigation… may we have the pleasure of your name?”

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

---

With the unexpected help, it didn’t take much more for them to achieve a complete victory. Unfortunately the skirmish didn’t end in a full Valheimian rout, but between one of the stranger girls that had shown up and her massive tempestuous attack, and Éliane deciding to lob one of her explosive attacks at the retreating forces, they were able to end a good number of them.

That captain Reisa would not be regrouping with anything near the full amount of forces she had started with, and Éliane was happy with that. Although the extent of her grudge did not even touch Izayoi’s, the Valheimians still had a blood debt to pay for the massacre of her countrymen in the castle. A convenient, easy target to beat up on was appealing for Éliane’s battle lust too…

But now that the battle was over, who were these unexpected comrades in arms?

Éliane was a bit surprised and a little wary that they had all decided to stick around afterwards at their campfire. The ensuing almost-interrogations and introductions were insightful, at least. Of them all, she was of course most interested in her fellow countryman. She was always delighted to meet fellow countrymen outside their borders, if they weren’t exiles, at least.

She briefly puzzled over his introduction. It really wasn’t the introduction of a SEED member… but the last name, she recognized. She had her finger on the pulse of Solitude’s high society. The heir of the Cadon Barony was supposed to be somewhat eccentric man. She gave him some side-eye for the way he introduced himself, but she didn’t dismiss it, either.

It didn’t take long for him to address her, and she nodded with a smile of her own. “Yes. You’re the son of Mathias Felixssen, I presume? I’m thankful for more eyes from home. Too many of have already been lost investigating this curse,” she replied sadly.

The others made their introductions, and she made hers, in turn. It was still odd, but nobody struck her as immediately suspicious, either. Rudolf was an Edrenian, so she didn’t have much beyond her usual impressions of them. Hunting monsters was cool, though! She wanted to hear some of the stories he could tell about his hunts.

Miina was… so cute! But kind of a weird Mystral in how she flustered so easily. She was the opposite of Izayoi, which sent Éliane in a brief fit of amusement. Especially when she tracked her eyes towards what the very red girl had been affixed on for her entire stammering session.

Eve was just a mystery. Her battle magic was awesome, though. Éliane respected her grudge towards the Valheimans, but between her foreign looks and the lack of forthcoming information, she was the one the commander was the most suspicious of.

Robin… well, Éliane loved her style! Wait, was Robin a boy or a girl? She wasn’t actually sure, but she was going to lean girl, for now. The sparkles were a nice touch, if a bit over the top… if anything, Robin reminded Éliane of herself when she was younger…

She decided if they were going to join in their quest, then she agreed with Izayoi. They would be quite welcome reinforcements.

“Well, most of you seem like good fellows,” she happily concluded. “I’d be glad to have you all join if you would.”

An extra thought occurred to her. “You all have your own chocobos, right…?”

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

---

Éliane tsked, quickly knowing that her shots hadn’t found their mark by the clang of her shots against armor and the obvious fact that the enemy woman was being a smug bitch towards her Mystrel ally. Although she was still firing back, now having reloaded, she was increasingly coming under fire by the Valheimian contingent.

“Aw, shit!” She let out a yelp as she ducked down from her cover, a particularly nasty bullet coming close enough to ping off one of the metal ornaments on her shako cap and nearly knocked it off her head. Moments later, an entire volley of bullets hit the stone wall where she together with Arton and Izayoi had taken over, sending fragments of rough stone flying everywhere. She winced as a few particularly sharp fragments managed to cut into her arm. The situation was looking increasingly desperate, with this cohort being far more organized than what she’d encountered previously.

They needed a breakout, or they’d be surrounded and flanked. Izayoi was a second ahead of her, so Éliane deferred to her. “Understood!” she called back, checking her gear and righting her hat. At her call, instead of firing from cover, she leapt over the parapet, backing up Izayoi once again and firing as she went. If this was going to be a death ride, then she was going to do it properly…

The sudden explosions that were not of her own volition and the subsequent disarray of the enemy battleline was something Éliane didn’t expect. Nor were the sudden appearances of what looked like another adventuring party.

Was that the distinct accent of another Skaelan she heard? Had the Edrenian king sent a second adventuring party to reinforce them, or had the Overseer seen it fit to send a second Skaelan expeditionary party as well…? Éliane was entirely confused, but she would pay more attention to the newcomers later.

Whatever it was, it changed their situation immediately. Firing another shot straight into the head of a distracted Valheimian soldier, she kicked him away as she directly fell in with the quickly disintegrating enemy cohesion. “They’re about to rout! Don’t let up the pressure!” she shouted, joining in Galahad’s exhortation as she sunk her gunblade into the chest of the unfortunate alheimian sharpshooter that had been taking potshots at her earlier.

Serves him right.

Not letting up the pressure, Éliane continued to push, nearly recklessly blitzing as she sought to break their morale completely. The last of her bullets in her chamber ran out as she cracked out at another infantryman, then parried another before kicking him away for someone else to deal with.

“Stick together! We can drive through them like a wedge and end this!”

Revue of Annihilation

Meisa Amorette

---

In hindsight, perhaps Firenze had overdone it a bit. Beating the thugs unconscious would have done the same trick. Nonetheless, she knew that if proper, good civilization was to rise again, petty violent gangs would have to meet their end, even if she had to resort to violence herself.

Even with her cushy life, Meisa was no stranger to violence. The elves treated criminals harshly, and violent thugs, as far as she was concerned made the cut. Still, Meisa didn’t quite approve, but mostly because it put her in a difficult position.

“Well, someone has to finally keep order! Are you alright?” she replied, making herself look presentable as the merchant woman stood up. She was going to speak further when one of the other merchants, began to scream in their faces. Right, did this man not have a sense of self-preservation?

“We are holding swords still, you know,” Meisa pointed out, nudging in the direction of Firenze, who was still standing around. She had taken the gang leader’s sword and still had the naked blade out. The praetorian woman looked quite happy with her new acquisition and some extra gold, but glanced towards the bellowing fat man’s hysterics as if to make a point.

Nonetheless, Meisa internally winced. This was exactly the situation she knew was going to happen. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? “Ahem. Addressing your point—Your understanding is bullshit, sorry. It’s just racketeering, and the particularly violent kind that doesn’t actually protect. Violence begets violence, you know?”

Firenze was still looking happy with herself, now that she was fully armed with lots of swords.
Now that the adrenaline of combat was dying down, Meisa screamed internally as she glared at her bodyguard. This was going to fucking suck.

Well, time to try and fucking sell it, because she was going to need it.

“Because the Blackhand Butchers are on the way out. Simple as that. They’ve overstepped their boundaries for far too long, and will be wiped out. You say they’ll make an example of everyone just for witnessing this? Then you might as well take it as a truth. The only recourse to fight back, or just roll over and die!” And what kind of stupid, uncivilized bandits would ruin their entire cash cow just because some stranger killed a few of their thugs, anyway? What was the entire point of having a protection racket if you were just going to make an example out of everyone who paid for the stupid ornament!?

She glanced at the merchant, and then the girl she saved, and then anyone that was watching. “The point of that silly ornament is for protection. If it won’t even protect you from them while minding your own business, did you really have an understanding at all? No, better to protect yourselves. And we can, at least, help you do that.”

Meisa gestured to the bodies of the thugs around them. Firenze might have caused the problem, but it was still one unarmed elf girl that had basically taken out five armed bandits. They had the credentials.

Revue of Annihilation

Meisa Amorette

---

The neighborhood surrounding the atelier was surprisingly decent, for an area within the Outer Layer. Given that their objectives had changed, at least for the day, Meisa and Firenze had changed back into simpler clothing, although it was still attire that stood well out among the downtrodden. Firenze being Firenze, though, didn’t mind changing in front of Camille, if it brought the puppy-like man further in their camp.

Perhaps even without.

The marketplaces near the Royal Road were surprisingly active and running relatively brisk business. Firenze noticed the odd wooden plaques first, and realized their meaning well before Meisa did, given her proclivities towards spy craft. Regardless, the commotio in the square did not take long to catch the attention of both elves. Five ruffians were roughing up one of the vendors in a clear racketeering operation.

Meisa frowned.

The obvious, smart thing to do was to simply look away and continue on with their stroll. In a normal circumstance, both girls had the mindset to do that. Firenze had done things far worse just messing around for fun, and Meisa was more selfish and morally disengaged than her newfound crusade suggested.

But this sort of blatant criminal activity was not something that ever been tolerated in the kingdom she remembered, nor was it something she would want suffered when the people were dancing to her tune. And Firenze had been itching for a fight ever since arriving at Oratorio. As far as the purple-haired woman was concerned, ever since somehow losing her sword on the journey here, having the pick of five weapons to keep was a plus.

She glanced at Meisa for a signal. The golden-haired elf bit down on her teeth for a moment before sighing and nodding. She was going to regret this, she was sure. No doubt there was a big gang somewhere behind these thugs, and perhaps even a wealthy noble in the Royal Road backing them, too.

With the go signal given, Firenze immediately stalked towards the thugs, using the crowd to position herself for the most optimal opening. Having worked together for so long, although Meisa was her charge, she too moved in concert, having an idea of what the purple praetorian was going to do.

Stepping out of the crowd, she approached one of the watching thugs from behind before immediately sucker-punching the man in the temple, using the twisting movement to simultaneously draw his sword and run him through. The man next to him began to react, but by then, Meisa was also in position, and a moment later, he found a boot planted up his family jewels and the man crumpled to the ground next to his companion while she relieved him of his weapon as well before finishing him off.

At this point, the two elves had gotten what they really wanted—weapons and a lesson taught. If they wanted, they could just bail now and be done with it. The guards, it seemed, still didn’t see fit to intervene, which Firenze took as remit to go further.

“You dare…!?”

By now, the other three men were fully alert, and the leader of the group turned with surprise but immediately fell on Firenze with a clash of steel—with the two other thugs hesitating before releasing the poor merchant girl to scramble to the defense of their thug friends. Now that Meisa’s terrifying bodyguard had a weapon, though, some relatively untrained ruffians had no chance. “Nice fucking try, bitches!” With a delighted grin, she met their steel with her own once more.

One of the bandits moved towards Meisa, who was so confident in her paladin that she was already rifling through the pockets of one of them fallen men for goodies. Firenze had enough opportunity to trip the man on the way there, making him fall flat on his face and just in time for Meisa to react by stomping his head with her boot, making it a simple two against one for Firenze. Her footwork and swordplay were superior, though, and after a few parries and blows, her sword took off the head of the leader before running the last rapscallion through.

And the guards still didn’t react.

“Nice work,” Meisa finally said, as if the battle had been foregone conclusion. Seeing that stall merchant was still hanging around looking bewildered and afraid, she turned her attention towards the lady as Firenze cleaned her weapon on one of the corpses and began to check for valuables, too.

“Congratulations, it looks like you’ve been rescued. Now, who were those folks?”

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

---

They had only been in a few skirmishes together now, but Éliane was satisfied at the battle cohesion their little party shared so far. Her flank was covered by Arton and Galahad, so she wouldn’t eat a surprise knife to her back, which was all that she needed, really. That allowed her to go through her usual battle ritual of cleaving and blasting her way through her enemies! What wonderful teammates she had, actually. At least these were dying in surprise ambushes.

Éliane caught the exchange between Ranbu and the enemy commander, and its nuances even, but she didn’t care overmuch. Instead, she merely emptied her entire load of bullets on the regal-looking tall woman—if not to kill her, than to ruin that arrogant bearing of hers, but killing her would be just as good.

She didn’t have time to witness her results, though, as she was suddenly forced to dodge the fusillade of elementally infused bullets that were sent her way. With a yelp, she dodge out of the way with a dramatic roll, immediately wishing that she hadn’t unloaded the six-shooter in her gunblade at a single target. Luckily, there was cover nearby in the form of a low stone wall, and slipping behind it, she reloaded and began to return fire even as she closed the distance once more in typical fashion to run more Valheimans through.

Revue of Annihilation

Meisa Amorette

---

Ah. So while he didn’t recognize true beauty, between the books and painting, he had at least some learning and culture to him. Firenze hadn’t stopped preening the entire time, glowing under the attention that Camille showered on her by painting her. Of course, Meisa would drown her paladin in shit later, but for now she continued to be friendly with the painter.

“Hmm hmm, I see. Perhaps their intent was to grant you that very understanding?” she ventured, recalling the subject of the paintings that she had peeked at upstairs.

The golden-haired elf nodded at the question she received in return, expecting the bit of quid-pro-quo here. “Hum… I suppose that’s a fair question. Two things,” she replied, holding up two fingers, “I’ve been growing tired of the state of affairs of the past two centuries. Culture and civilization have taken a turn for the worse… and it feels like I’m the only one among my people who has any motivation left to do anything about it! Otherwise I would have started there, but it does feel like I’ve had a strange calling to come to Oratario that is difficult for me to articulate.”

She shrugged at that, but continued on, “On the Royal Road… I’d like to get a true feel for how the city works, as dangerous as it is. And I would rather not immediately return to old habits.”

Meisa gave a small laugh at that. That, at the very least, was quite true.

"A calling? Like that of saints from the pre-Godfall Era?"

The golden-haired elf hummed. "Not quite, yet that's likely the best way to describe it," she nodded. "That spark to actually do something does have a similar feeling."

"Mmm, well, I'm sure that a work so great as 'improving civilization' could only be overseen by one with an equally great lifespan ahead of them. In absence of the divinity recorded by historians, it appears that others naturally drift towards self-servitude."

A pause.

"Though I suppose that's always been the case."

"Well, yes. Firenze does exist, after all. Do you see how well she preens?"

"Hey!"

Meisa continued on. "Eheh, I suppose. I've been finding the city wanting, but it's nice to see someone who appreciates the classics. As a native, what is your perspective on things here?"

Camille chuckled at the interaction between the two elves.

"That countenance too, is a charming thing."

He dwelled in silence a bit longer, intent on reaching certain point in the painting, before setting his brush down.

"I would say that Oratorio is very much a city that encapsulates the stories people tell of it. It is where opportunities and wealth spring up aplenty, and also where the lawlessness of the frontier manifests. And I suppose too, that it is this way by design."

The young man turned towards Meisa for the first time.

"Could I ask for your perspective too, as one who laments the decay of society?"

The elf shook her head. One could be cultured, and still have no taste. She allowed him his silence as he continue with his painting, her own curiosity making her lean in to watch until he furnished her with a reply. She didn't expect to be having a proper intellectual conversation today, fully expecting to continue trading barbs with her purple-haired companion, but the conversation with Camille was welcome and actually rather informative.

"Ah, well... You can apply the moniker of the former to any city in nearly any time period." She looked thoughtful as she hummed again. "The only difference, I would say, is that in Oratorio, it is as you say, in the absense of divinity. Everyone works for themselves, rather than together, or for others, which is how a civilization properly functions. I am merely an outsider looking in still, but I find it a minor miracle that the city has yet to collapse in on itself without the proper cooperation I would expect..."

She paused. "I suppose the existence of the Abyss and the way it churns through fresh blood has something to do with it."

"Or one could think of Oratorio as a microcosm of the world, rather than just a city. War breaks out and nations fall, but the world itself doesn't fall apart, no?"

"Ehh... as a political experiment, maybe. When it goes beyond, the comparison falls apart. As a city, everything is intertwined enough that each part is truly a smaller portion of the whole. A small amount of rot will eventually spread to the rest, and I don't just mean disease. The great merchants of my day would shudder at the lost potential of it all."

She turned the question back on him. "As a resident, do you not want to see the city and that within rise to its proper potential? At the very least, it must be tiring having to bring up the ladder every night."

“What do you believe it’s proper potential will be?”

Meisa spread a palm out. "Far more than it is now! A city like this that draws so many people to it should be a prosperous center for commerce like in the great cities of old, not just one that entirely revolves around dying in a dark dungeon. Wealth and an extended franchise brings in better education, thus better appreciation for the arts, and arts develops a proper culture, as opposed to... whatever it is now that can't find any appreciation for proper books like the ones you keep."

"A lovely dream."

He turned back to the canvas, to Firenze.

"Is that why you chaperone her, madam?"

Meisa huffed a bit at the easy dismissal, while Firenze tilted her head even as she kept her certifiably striking pose.

"Well, no. She's absolutely crazy, yes, but has some good ideas, so maybe. It's more force of habit than anything, you know? It's sad. I don't even get a royal salary anymore, or the perks that came with it!"

She made a dramatic show of lamentation as Meisa's turn to exclaim came.

"Hey!"

"Oh, you're elven royalty?"

"Fuck's sake..." she muttered under her breath, resisting the urge to whack herself in the face with the borrowed book from her host.

Meisa shot Firenze --who was still in that damn pose-- a glare that promised a talk later, before she turned and gave Camille a small smile. "By blood, yes. But that was a long time ago, before the fall."

"You witnessed the fall?"

"Ah-- yes?" She blinked, confused for a moment. "I'm sure I mentioned it earlier... but I did. We both did. I remember what it was like, before then. It might be selfish, but I do want it back. It's why I'm here."

The man considered things for a moment.

"In that case, if you're willing to entertain further conversation regarding life and culture in the past era, I will be more than happy to offer what assistance I can provide to you and your lady, Firenze."

Camille gestured, a lopsided smile forming.

"Even if that would be only an atelier, some tea, and my proficiency with the brush."

"I wouldn't mind at all," Meisa agreed, after a moment's consideration of her own, happy at having finally gained a follower in Oratorio. "Most people don't care for hearing about the past. I would be glad to tell you stories of the old era in exchange..."

Her words trailed off as he addressed Firenze directly again, who was beaming now. Meisa clicked her teeth shut, but controlled herself as she let out a sigh. She had to consider who she was dealing with, after all.

"Certainly," Firenze chimed in, looking like the cat ate the canary. She would be staying under a proper roof again! "I'm sure there's lots of lost history and culture that Meisa can divulge. In the meantime, you can paint me all you want!"

The golden-haired elf rolled her eyes. She had to consider who she was dealing with, after all.

The conversation settled down after that, with Camille focusing on painting after the two elves finally accepted his offer of tea. Having gained a follower in Camille, she left him to his art as she cracked open his book and found a comfortable corner to relive some culinary nostalgia. The painting was done after a few hours—and when Meisa and Firenze had a look at the completed work, while it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t a masterpiece, either.

Despite that, Firenze showered praises on the man and gladly accepted the offered painting.

No doubt he would continue to improve now that he had such blessed inspiration in the form of Firenze, at least according to her.

With a spare key in hand and the comfort of shelter, the gamble had paid off well. Of course, they still hadn’t actually gotten into the Royal Road, but with an actual property to work out of, there was a lot more to work with. They still needed some proper income, though, and more of a picture of Oratorio, so with some light still left in the day, the two elves left once more to explore the neighborhood around Camille’s atelier.

Revue of Annihilation

Meisa Amorette

---

It was a rather boring non-answer, but Meisa let it be for the moment as she watched Camille select his brushes and paints. The movements were natural, with the practiced ease of a painter in his element. Firenze, with her experience in spy craft could tell it wasn’t fake—and Meisa, who had far more experience in sitting for paintings had a similar impression even if he didn’t compare to the elven painters of her memories. Nobody did, in this era.

Meisa nodded at Camille as she went up the ladder, dismissing his request in her mind. As she did so, Firenze decided to make herself comfortable, finding something nearby to sit on as the painter continued to set up. Most of the words and terminology that came out of Camille’s mouth flew well over her head, but she continued to preen at the attention and pleasure of being able to sit for a painting instead of her mistress. It was Meisa who had a proper court education, and although some of the developments in art were past her time, it was something that she understood well enough. Assuming she didn’t discover a serial killer’s lair upstairs, the golden-haired elf was actually feeling excited to talk to the man. He still obviously lacked culture given how she’d been ignored, but at least he knew his art.

A man with that sort of artistic fervor could start a cultural revolution…

The second floor was actually sort of cozy, with the bed, big bright windows, and a large, if haphazard library of old leatherbound books. Meisa ignored the bundle for the moment as she stepped towards the books, taking a few and flipping through them while looking at the others’ spines. The topics were remarkably archaic and dense –for a human in this era. While they might not have been typical reading even in her time, philosophy, ethics, astronomy, and the other sciences were all studies of a learned man. If this was what Camille read in his free time, then he was a remarkably civilized and learned person. From how worn and dust-free they were, she wondered…

Maybe this frivolous painter could make a good ally to her cause. The house wasn’t so bad, either.

Finally overcome by curiosity, she peeked under the blanket, expecting old paintings—and got old paintings. Curiously, they were of an older woman. There was an obvious progression in age of the subject and in the increasing skill of the art. If anything, it was an interesting window into the man’s artistic career. Carefully replacing the blanket the way she found it, she picked out a book on cuisines of her lost kingdom, and returned downstairs.

“I wouldn’t say those are dusty tomes at all,” she said, waving the culinary book she chose. “If anything, it’s remarkably varied! I haven’t seen some of these dishes since the kingdom fell.” She had a nostalgic, almost wistful backing to her otherwise chipper tone, glancing between the artist prepping and her supposed paladin enjoying herself in front of him. She gave a beaming smile to Firenze. “Firenze, dear, maybe you can help make some of these dishes again to return the favor to ser Moissan?”

She bullied right on even as her purple-haired companion began to look cross.

“Ah! Right. I couldn’t help but to overhear part of your conversation. I may not be the subject today, but I used to sit for many, and paint, too. I was taught in the classical school in my youth, though it’s been a while… It’s not often I come across a man of culture in this day and age. What inspired you?”