Rhea Louverno's Story

Mornings are difficult no matter the day, but somehow it's especially bad this time around. Whether it's the raging headache and nausea from drinking far too much last night, or just because without the alcohol in her system or her friends around to take her mind off things, all she can do is continue wandering back to those old memories she so badly wanted to uncover, yet they do her no good now. She doesn't feel any better, doesn't feel anymore complete, perhaps because the entirety of them were so goddamn unbelievable. A princess from an alternate universe first, what's next, she'd be asked to rule that very kingdom that by no means could even rightfully exist? Since when was there a vast, expansive continent with thousands, if not millions of living people on it, and somehow the entire planet earth had just overlooked it? Or was she going to be asked to walk through some weird portal into fucking Narnia?

She can't help the anger as it continues to boil, though maybe it was made worse by the sour mood caused by none other than the consequences of her very own actions. Dumbass, why'd you have to down so much on your own?

Eloise had hardly confessed about what the new issue was to any of her friends, let alone her parents, if only because she was sure they'd think she was on her way to another mental, emotional breakdown. Tatsuya had listened to her words at least, even if they were vague and a bit nonsensical, listening quietly as he always did with her. She appreciated him and his efforts with her endlessly, of course; even if they fed into each others' bad habits occasionally, he was practically her only reason to keep living at this point, and somehow she felt she might be his.

If she left him behind, would he be okay? Would she be okay without him?

What about her parents?

A long sigh escapes her into that small studio bedroom, her head rolling to the side as hair moves to cover half her face. He was sleeping soundly next to her now, even though it was well past 10:00am and they both should be up and going now. They hadn't actually slept together the night prior, not interested in doing so last night, though he was far to drunk to go home himself and the comfort of proximity and contact was something she hadn't wanted to pass up, even in her hazy state. Still, that email from her English professor rings in her mind again. An address, a time, and given it was already past ten, she would probably be a little late to it by this point if she decided to go.

She almost wanted to, almost didn't. Surely it would be easy to skip, to put behind this god awful experience as some stupid memory and weird manipulation from yet another adult in her life, but at the same time, she wants to go, just to confirm something. Just to make sure, so that she can put her wandering mind to rest for the night. It could just be a quick trip out, and then she could come back and hangout with Tatsuya for the rest of the day, if he were even up for that.

At the very least, those thoughts get her out of bed. Slowly rising up from the sheets even with the throbbing sensation it brings on tenfold, she forces her legs over the side of her bed, letting out a long yawn and standing as she staggers over to her closet. Something easy and comfortable is what she's looking for, maybe a little presentable, but in the end she's pulling out that long-sleeved crop top she tends to enjoy for extra comfort. The sleeves are loose, making it even more comfortable, and paired with those loose, flowing pants, she feels like she's practically wearing pajamas, even with the suspenders adding a little flair while they hold onto absolutely nothing. Pulling on the outfit, she shuts the doors of the closet, perhaps a little too hard, harder than she meant to. They relatch into place with a loud slam, and she cringes before turning to look over at the other student in her bed, who groans once before turning onto his side, blanket pulled over his head.

"...Tatsuya?" Comes her unsure tone, and she winces as his voice rises out, muffled by the sheets, "uh-huh..."

Slowly making her way back over to the bedside, she lets herself half fall into it as she sits, gaze moving back to where he is still, curled under the blankets. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to shut them so hard." A pause, she pulls the sheet back just a bit to reveal the tuft of white hair and half-lidded brown eyes that grimace away from the invading light of the window. "How're you feeling? Miserable?"

A short snort leaves him at her words, and he lets the sheet fall back to fully reveal his face at least. "What do you think? I drank as much as you did, you know." She smirks slightly at this, "you did, didn't you, brave little boy. We all know I handle alcohol so much better than you, but you just drained it all without a second thought. Now look at you."

"Ah, the consequences of my own actions." He pulls the sheets back over his head then, hiding away in them with a muffled, "fuck you," leaving soon after. All she offers is a sympathetic laugh, patting the head over the sheets before standing back up, her small bag finding its way to her hands as she moves past the nightstand, the dropped violin case to the side. "I'm going out for a bit, just have something to deal with before I can relax for the rest of the day." She pauses at the door to exit her room, looking back at his form in the bed, "I'll bring you back some meds for your head once I'm done, 'kay? Do what you need to get feeling better in the meantime, I probably have enough shit to keep you sated until I'm back home." It's a small peek of a hand from the sheets and a lazy wave that she gets in return, and she rolls her eyes at them before making her way out of the room, and then out of the door.

The day is sunny and calm, once she steps outside, with no clouds to cover the sun and make the light a little more bearable. Her hand rests over her eyes for a moment as she tries to shove away the burst of headache again, but there's nothing she can do about it at this point, besides press on. The sooner this little "meeting" was over with, the better.

It's not as long of a walk as she expected, though she probably should have figured that by Lilith's email; she had said that it was only ten minutes away from campus, and given Eloise practically lived on campus with her apartment, it didn't add much time to it. Genuinely, she was relieved for that fact alone, making her trip just slightly easier on her mind and body.

Coming up on the house, she takes it in quietly, the size and look of it as a whole. She's not even inside yet, and still she can see the fact that it looks like a more spendy, fancy place, something someone wealthy would own. The car in front of it doesn't help that fact, though something tells Eloise that that's not Lilith's. Rather, it likely belonged to one of the other girls that would be attending this odd little gathering along with her. Who were the rich girls in this little group, anyway? She got the vibe from Liliya at least, maybe Althea but-

There's the sound of someone trudging behind her, lazy steps and quiet sniffling that catches her off guard a bit. A quick shift around and she's facing Liliya herself, pink hair done in an overly lazy bun and wearing not quite as much makeup as Eloise was sure she normally would. Even the outfit shows off signs of exhaustion, despite being in character and cutesy as she knew the girl was known for.

Tilting her head slightly, she watches Liliya for a moment, the girl seeming to be in a world of her own before she carefully calls out to her, an awkward, "Liliya? Girl, you alright?" Her voice seems to snap the other out of her trance then, green-blue eyes snapping over to her before she's using the bottom of her palm to rub under her eyes, slightly smearing the eyeliner that was barely holding anyway. "Mm...sorry, I wasn't...I wasn't paying attention. Hi, Elo...Euphemia..."

She can't help but wince slightly at the name, glancing away, before taking a few steps forward and pulling out a simple cloth. A hand cups her face for a bit before she's rubbing away at the smeared black makeup, small sigh leaving her. Clearly, the pink bomb hadn't been faring too well, and she wasn't going to try and make it worse now. Even if it seemed to catch her by surprise, the way her eyes widened a bit before settling into something more neutral, if not a bit depressed. "I probably look gross, don't I?"

Eloise half snorts at her words, rolling her eyes lightly, "sure you do, but I'm still half hungover, so it's not like I can say much about it." Pulling back then, she tilted her head slightly, "all good now, take a breather or something and then we can go in together I guess." Truthfully, she feels too awkward to go in alone, and maybe following behind the literal model would help keep attention off of herself for awhile.

"No, I'm okay. Let's just go in now, we're already late, aren't we?" A quick glance to her wrist, Eloise cranes her neck slightly to catch the digital time on the face of it, 10:45. She cringes slightly at that revelation, before turning towards the door again, a long sigh leaving her. "You're right, it's probably in our best interest to avoid making anyone wait around any longer." As if walking in late won't be awkward enough as it is.

Quiet settles in as they walk to the door, and as Liliya settles back into her half daze, she decides to take one for the impromptu team and knock for the both of them, a bit lightly as if that would make their late appearance any better.

Content Warning.

The first sight she'd been greeted with once she arrived back to her apartment was Galen laying out on the couch in her living room, lazily scrolling through his phone and long since changed and undone out of his costume from the fair. By all means, the moment he looked up at her when he realized she was there, his expression twisted into one of irritation, frustration, seemingly not noticing the emotional state she was in, or didn't care enough to acknowledge it. Instead, a long sigh, standing up from the couch and making his way over to her.

"The hell happened to you? Look at your dress, it's filthy." His hand moves down to tug at the skirt of the dress, pulling it up slightly as if the show off the stain of dirt over the green fabric. She stared for a moment, just long enough that it finally got him to let go and walk away, towards the bedroom. She followed quietly, energy to even try and speak zapped, gone after all the revelations from Lilith. She couldn't even tell Galen about it, as if he'd believe her. He was already in a sour mood, clearly, and she wasn't keen on making it worse.

Why was he mad anyway, though? Sure, she was later than expected, but it wasn't that bad. Rather, she would have expected him to try and offer some sort of comfort at the sight of her, at the state she was in, but instead he's lazily dropping onto the queen bed in her bedroom, staring at his phone still as she makes way for the bathroom, a single glance back to where his back is turned to her, unacknowledging. Her lips purse at that, and she quietly shuts the door. The shower is her destination, and as she finally gets the dress off and lets it drop into a dirty heap on the floor, the water is turned on. Just a few moments until it heats up, and then she's in, letting the water wash over her body and get rid of the grime and exhaustion, at least a little bit.

It felt odd, the way her mind was beginning to just go numb. She wasn't quite used to this feeling, the loss of energy, but not from using it on work or something fun; rather, it was from raging emotions and thoughts, from the revelation of the century in her memories, the way a sense of despair clung to her, refused to let go. Suddenly, she realizes she feels entirely too alone. No one to turn to, no one to lean on. No one would believe her, would they? And the other girls, Lilith...somehow, she felt as if she couldn't even reach out to them. Isolated, or at least that's how her mind wanted her to feel, and she fed into it, believed it.

Eventually she feels washed enough, relaxed enough, and the water is off, steam rising into the air and to the ceiling, escaping through the fan that she'd almost forgotten to turn on. It's a towel that she wraps around herself, wringing out her hair and brushing it out so that at least it wasn't sopping, brushing it out a moment later and ignoring the small spray of droplets it left behind over the countertop. Numb, empty, tired. Or maybe her mind was just still trying to process things, stuck in a standstill over such unbelievable fantasy memories she has bouncing around her head now. It was impossible, but at the same time she knew they were all real.

She doesn't even notice Galen as she steps out of the bathroom, who sits up in bed now with his arms crossed, silently watching her as she crosses the room to her closet and dresser, tries to find something comfortable and warm to wear and soothe her to sleep. In the end it's just a pair of shorts, an oversized hoodie that she dons, and she moves to sit on the opposite side of the bed to her boyfriend, laying on her side and not even caring enough to get under the covers despite the chill of wet hair. She would in a moment, but this felt good enough for now.

Quiet settles in for a bit before she feels the bed shift under weight before the shadow of Galen looms over her, and then lowering closer, until his hand is wrapping around her waist, and a kiss is pressed into her neck. Soft and gentle, and initially she thinks he's finally trying to offer some sort of comfort, but maybe she should have known better. His hand moves down further, until it's pulling up her shirt, reaching under as he tries to shift her further back onto the bed, tries to get better access to her.

"Gale, no..." Is all she mutters at first, hand moving to gently press against his hand, "I'm not up for that tonight, please. I just wanna sleep."

It certainly doesn't stop him, though, not as he shrugs off the hand and pulls her back onto the bed, flat onto her back as he starts to pull off his shirt, a grumbled, "you said you would, are you seriously going to backtrack that now?" and she goes wide eyed for a moment. He wasn't going to listen? What was he even thinking, acting like this? She'd said no so he should-

He's half laying down on top of her now, still searching her neck before she manages another weak, "stop it, Gale," yet he doesn't, still feels around, still puts his unbearable weight over her as if to trap her and then-

It's a shocked yelp that leaves her lips as his teeth dig into her neck, not hard enough to break the skin or draw blood, but it may as well have. It sends a shock through her body, and her eyes finally prick with tears again before she lets out a small sniffle, and then finally, her hands place themselves onto his chest, and she shoves.

"I said no, Galen! Get off of me!"

Perhaps she shoves a bit too hard, more strength behind the push than she was expecting, because right as her words leave her mouth, she hears a thud, sees him sprawled over the floor on the side of the bed, and her eyes go wide at the sight. Panic springs in her chest, more so as he turns back around, and the slightest trickle of blood seeps from his nose. Had he really hit the ground that hard? Or maybe it was just an unlucky enough landing?

"A-ah- oh- I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to-"

"...The hell...?" Is all that leaves him for a bit, and she winces, whimpers away from the dark tone it holds, "are you fucking kidding me...?" Amber eyes move to look up at her then, and his brows furrow down further, rage clearly taking its hold as he stands, uses a hand to gingerly wipe some of the blood away, and then stares at it. Stares for far too long, as his expression shifts further and further, until suddenly he raises his hand, extended out and she's almost tensing up to be slapped, eyes going wide in shock as it descends, strikes her across the face sharper than she could have ever believed. As if she could even believe the fact that he had hit her at all.

They hadn't even been dating for that long; had she been so blinded and desperate for another relationship after how the other one had ended that she'd entirely missed a red flag like this?

Her breathing picks up in pace a bit, something of a hyperventilation as she tries to process what just happened, the fact that her face still stung and her neck was burning. Suddenly, everything about the one standing in front of her is terrifying, and she can't make herself look up, can't bring her eyes to connect with his as he seethes down at her, though she catches the slightest glimpse of a sneer, and she locks up again.

"I should have listened when they told me you were more trouble than you were worth," he hisses, leaning in closer as she flinches back, trembles slightly over the situation, the reveal of his true nature so soon, the fact that she felt trapped, like she couldn't run for her life as she should be now. Couldn't move, she couldn't- "it hasn't even been that long, and I've already had enough of your bullshit. Why won't you just do as I say? Listen? My ex always did, why won't you?" Her hands move up her head, hiding beneath them ever so slightly as she tries to shrink in on herself, "you're such a bitch, how could anyone put up with you any longer than I have? Ha! There's absolutely no way anyone else could!" That anger again, and she sees his hand raise once more out of the corner of her eye. They go wide again before she shrinks, cowers away and shields herself. Yet, rather than a slap, she hears the heavy footsteps, someone intercepting, and then silence, perhaps shocked.

When she opens her eyes again, it's Mathias who stands in front of her, gloved hand wrapped tightly around the wrist, while blue eyes pierce into those of Galen, who has considerably paled in comparison to before, his sneer turned into one of panic and terror at the sight of the man in front of him. The same panic that pulls him into some sort of state, one that leaves him stumbling and stammering for words, and suddenly he's not so terrifying anymore.

"A-ah- woah, wait- it's not what it looks like, I-I can explain!" Comes his lame excuse of a way to get out of the trouble he'd caused himself. Yet his pleas are met with a look of such malice from Mathias, that silently Liliya wonders if he'll kill Galen right then and there. "Oh no, no no, I think it's exactly what it looks like, Galen," The venom that drips from his tongue fills the room in an instant, and Galen stops breathing...until a sickening crack makes its way into the silence, and he falls to his knees in agony before his wrist is released. Broken.

He's letting out cries of pain for awhile, though neither her nor Mathias move as they watch him. Her, in shock, Mathias, detached and cold. "If you know what's best for you and your life, I'd suggest running away now." Comes his sharp hiss, and Galen's amber eyes are up on him, nothing but fear, horror, before he's running out of the apartment, the door swung open and slammed shut behind him as he does. Silence, again, until she feels the tears burn her eyes once more, and finally she lets herself break down, sobs wracking through her body as her brother turns towards her, expression softening swiftly before she's wrapped in a hug, tight and secure. "Oh my god, Lily...I'm so sorry...I should have come sooner."

His comforts are offered for several hours as they sit together, as she tries to stop the flow of emotions that come so swiftly and won't stop, and he simply nods along, hums occasionally to let her know he's still listening as she stumbles through her words, tries to explain, tries to even make sense of anything.

Of anything, when nothing made sense at all, and she felt like she was dying, drowning.

She can't quite will herself to speak about the memories, instead drowning them out with other words, but eventually she wears herself out enough to sleep, and crashes in the bed. It's Mathias that treats the new bruise and bite, tries to relieve some of the pain and get rid of the worst of the swelling, and she's silently thankful for his help when she hardly has the will to do it herself. It's considerably better by the time she looks at the clock, by the time she realizes that she still needed to meet up with those other girls and Lilith, even when she didn't have the energy to do so now. Why couldn't she have had a couple days to rest? To try and process everything?

Shove them down, she supposes, because whatever her English professor - or, the sorceress - had wanted to show them, she didn't want to miss. Maybe it would help settle worries, stress, concerns. Just a little bit, to take some of the weight off her shoulders.

Mathias doesn't seem thrilled when she says she needs to go out for the day. It's furrowed brows, worry and concern seeping into the expression deeply as she shows herself in the lazy outfit that covers the mark on her neck at least. The one on her face is covered with makeup as best she can, and frankly, the rest of her makeup job is shoddy and miserable at best. Did she particularly care? No, it was just to cover up puffy eyes, a bruise, and exhaustion.

"You should really stay home and rest. Is there something you need picked up? Or dropped off? I can do it for you, you know. Why don't you just go back to bed? I was just about to start making lunch, too." All manners of coaxing, but she just shakes her head, looks towards the door again, "I won't be long, I just needed to stop somewhere quick. I'll be back in a couple hours at most." Another frown from him, his arms crossing, before a huff leaves him. In the end, he lets her go, perhaps not up to the idea of accidentally causing her more stress that way. "Just call me if you need something, okay?"

Out the door she goes, into the clear, sunny day, and she wanders down the street at a dragging pace, only half paying attention to where she's going as she walks. In and out of her mind, in and out of reality. It's hard to stay in reality, but she does her best. And fails miserably, given she almost doesn't realize she's made it to Lilith's home until an unsure voice calls out to her from her side. Her eyes snap over to the figure of Eloise- Euphemia, shortly after, and she stares for a moment before relaxing again, her shoulders drooping forward as her hand moves up to rub at her eyes. "Mm...sorry, I wasn't...I wasn't paying attention. Hi, Elo...Euphemia..." The older woman flinches slightly as she calls the latter name, and Liliya wonders if that was the wrong choice, elects to not use it again in the future.

Silence falls for a bit, and quietly she thinks of her appearance, grimacing slightly to herself before shifting awkwardly, looking away, but the black haired girl is approaching her soon after, and before she can even process what she's doing, a gentle hand cups her face, luckily not on the side of the bruise, while the other moves up to carefully wipe away around her eyes. She blinks once, tries to figure out the reason, but then gives up and averts her gaze again, a weak, "I probably look gross, don't I?" leaving her.

Eloise's sarcastic snort almost makes her flinch back, and her words enter her ears and sit for a bit as she speaks. Acknowledging that she didn't look great, but offering the fact that Eloise herself didn't look all too nice either. It was a little comforting, knowing she wasn't the only one struggling, in pain.

It's awkwardly exchanged words before they finally make their way up to the steps, and she can't help but fall into a daze again as they do, staring at the wooden object as Eloise knocks, and then it's just a waiting game.

Being brought into the living room where the others were left Eloise tensing again slightly, her brows furrowing as her shoulders slouched slightly, as if it might draw attention away from her more. It's back to all of them in a room, some more familiar than others, and she sucks in a small breath as she looks around for somewhere to sit. Most spots were taken at this point or left a spot on the opposite side to be shared, and before she can psych herself out and head back for the door, she makes way to sit in the open spot by Oriane. They weren't friends by any means, but Oriane was the one she'd spoken to most at this point and she'd bought her a funnel cake at the festival, so out of everyone in the room the magenta haired girl was the one she felt most...tolerated by, she supposed.

She lets herself plop down onto the cushioned spot with a heavy sigh, her dark clothes stark against Lilith's brightly decorated living room, the white couches. Who the hell decorates with white couches or white- anything? It just feels like a stained disaster waiting to happen. A hand carefully runs over the soft fabric of the cushion, as if to make sure she isn't leaving any sort of mark or stain herself. Safe, for now.

Lilith brings them drinks soon after on a cart which feels odd, but she keeps it to herself. All the same, she avoids even going near the lemonade and any of the food; knowing her luck, she'd spill or drop it everywhere and leave marks on the carpet and couch, and she'd rather die than do that. It wasn't like she had much of an appetite either. So water it is, which she could use anyway to help with her hangover a bit more. It's cold and refreshing, especially after the walk here in the midday heat of late spring.

After Lilith leaves, conversations among the girls begins. Cassie - Meridian - is the first to begin speaking, and though Eloise half tunes her out, the moment she hears her brother's name her eyes are moving to plant themselves onto the green-haired girl. Val. A nickname for Valken that friends and his parents had given him after awhile, that she'd picked up on too. Again her mind wanders back into her imagination, endless scenarios of what state he could possibly be in, whether he's even alive. God, she hopes he is. She needs him to be.

Imagination takes her away again until she hears her name, or her other name. Euphemia, one that she's still unsure of, but she'd tried to say it to herself in the mirror a few times. It doesn't feel like it fits her, but it's what her parents - the biological ones, anyway - had given her, isn't it? Her last little connection to her birth family, the Aphelions. The one her brother belonged to too. Despite her reservations over accepting this entire situation that felt like a delusional nightmare, she'd found herself half clinging to the name, one of the last things she still had from that life and lost identity.

Were the others having as difficult of a time accepting things as she was? Oriane sure seemed relaxed and casual as before. Aurora looked distracted. Meridian appears fine for the most part, even comfortable talking and getting conversation going with all of them. Artemisia seems thoughtful, Rhea looks like she's not entirely present in reality, but the flash of a bruise on her neck she'd caught when wiping away at smeared makeup on her face makes her wonder if something else that has her looking as lost as she does. Euphemia can't help but wonder if how she feels is obvious, or if she's masking it well enough in the moment.

It feels a bit odd to be asked for how she's doing, but she tries not to think on it too hard. They were all in a weird situation, and maybe Artemisia was just trying to be nice.

"I'm all here," she lightly knocks a fist against her head almost self-mockingly, like checking to make sure her sanity was still inside, "so I guess that's good enough." Once Lilith shows us whatever the hell she has planned, my mind might actually break though, so maybe it won't be good enough for much longer.

She finds herself hesitating at Artemisia's last comments, though. Her brother is mentioned again, Artemisia bringing up her own like she's hoping for a point they can relate on. Just figured? She stares for a moment, as if waiting for her to continue, but the way she trails off and keeps her gaze just enough off of Euphemia's own, she figures she has doesn't intend to finish that sentence. "I'm trying not to give my imagination too much time to wander, or I think I'll make myself sick." She answers honestly, though why she feels the need to confess her internal struggles to Artemisia she's not sure, "Valken is strong, he was strong back then too, when-" her voice suddenly feels like it's caught in her throat, like the sting of that memory is burning in her heart and lungs. When he was cut down trying to fight for my protection. When he suffered for too long in that dark cell, barely lucid through pain and fever. The image of his clammy, pale face and red stained cloth wrapped around his chest and midsection, delirious mutters and labored breathing. No matter how much she cried for someone to help him, no one answered. Had he survived that near fatal wound? The infections? Or was he left to die after she'd been taken away and tossed into this world?

She shakes her head, trying not to dwell on it too long again, "...he's strong, so I'm sure he's okay. My brother isn't someone who would give up so easily."

For a moment she hesitates, keeping her sharp gaze on Artemisia, though it softens slightly when she thinks of the other's situation, similar to her own. Like she'd said, they both have brothers. Assuming she wasn't hurting and worried just as much as Euphemia was would be selfish, and the least she could do was at least try to return the favor of checking on her. "What about...you, Artemisia? How are you holding up...?"

Conversation shifts slightly though, and now the discussion of names is on the board. Oriane and Artemisia are quick to state they want to be referred to by their true names, seeming to have accepted it or holding some other reason for why - to honor family - and she finds herself relenting, finally fully accepting her own despite constant internal battle over it. If the others were going to, she may as well follow suit. There was no reason to isolate herself from the group of girls she may very well be stuck with for the next-

God, how long would they be made to stick together? Weeks? Months? Years?

"If we're going to be heading to...er...Rhindeval or whatever, then I guess I should play the part I have there. If you want to call me Euphemia, be my guest. May as well get used to it now before it becomes a problem."

Artemisia takes some time to respond to her in the end. An honest answer to how she's doing, a perhaps...hopeful idea that they "...all have each other, right?" though Euphemia wonders about that. They barely knew each other, and though she had her memories back they were from her childhood years ago. Thirteen to be exact. That much time of barely interacting with one another, could they really call each other friends? Allies? Perhaps it's the pessimist in her, assuming that she couldn't fully count on this group to have her back if it came to it. Why should she? She barely knew them.

Was she willing to take the chance with them? To put her trust on the line, perhaps even her own life by the sounds of it, and hope that they come through when it's time?

Conversation in the far too brightly decorated living room is brought to a close when Lilith enters the room, an invitation to follow her down to the basement of her home. Euphemia isn't the first to move, of course, waiting for a few of the others to get up and make their way over before she does. It wasn't like she was overly eager to venture down to her English-professor-turned-sorceress's basement, a place that sort of felt like the point of no return.

Eventually she's one of the last to get up, and deciding not to waste her time any longer Euphemia rises from the couch, a few paces over to the stairs the others follow Lilith to.

When she finally steps through to get the full view of the basement, she almost finds herself rolling her eyes, a huff of air following that doesn't make much noise over Lilith's words. The place feels like a stereotypical "witch hut." It's ridiculous. What was this, the set for some low budget fairy tale remake? Did any of this stuff even work? The cauldron at the center is really the cherry on top; it feels so cheesy she almost gags.

So she finds herself keeping her distance, away from the crowd. Artemisia seems to do the same much to her slight surprise with the other's personality and behavior she had briefly gathered so far, but as she'd said before: they barely knew each other. What would she know about how the theater girl normally held herself? It wasn't like this situation was normal anyway.

Lilith rambles on about the "spell" and "magic" and what she's about to do, none of which really make sense to Euphemia. Or maybe her mind just had such a hard time really processing it all as reality despite everything she's seen and been through the last day or two, still beyond unbelievable that even trying to just force herself to accept it makes her feel delusional, detached from the reality she'd grown up in over the past thirteen years. Do the others feel the same?

She'd have to ask them that, but somehow she feels like popping the question right in front of the woman explaining all of these things to them would be beyond rude. So she keeps her mouth shut and just watches.

The woman gives what feels like another performance akin to the one at the fair, though this time it doesn't leave Euphemia feeling like she's been shot in the chest. Instead, she finds herself watching Lilith struggle, and in return, Aurora, then Artemisia, eventually Rhea and Oriane too, all seem to take on a look of slight strain. Her brow quirks slightly; what was this, the whole "drawing upon their magical energy" thing she'd mentioned? The others were...offering theirs or whatever now? How the hell did they even know how to? Since when was everyone so proficient in using something that shouldn't even exist?

All she thinks to do is try, and in the end she's not even sure if it made a difference. Regardless, it seems that at least everyone else's efforts aren't in vain, and in the end-

She finds the flash of a floating...screen? Monitor? What the hell should she call that? Whatever it is, it's right over the cauldron, the face of a new woman in the image. It startles Euphemia slightly, and she barely manages to keep the, "Jesus Christ...!?" that escapes her to hissed out whisper.

The woman she sees is blonde and pretty, elegant probably, she doesn't know, all she can see is her face. Her voice carries clearly through their nonsensical form of communication, and she initially only speaks to Lilith, eyes traveling around to each of them in turn. The "princesses" is what she asks, a word that still makes Euphemia cringe near physically, but she swallows it down before it becomes obvious.

God, how Euphemia wished Tatsuya was here. Or someone that she was comfortable with. She wants to lean over and whisper, a hushed discussion over how insane this all was, a few comments here or there of other things, maybe crack a joke or two. Anything to relieve some stress, to make this less of an agonizing headache.

It turns out Queen Eowyn has about the same set of lungs that Lilith does in the way that she monologues to them about everything, no chance for anyone to interject until she's finished her speech. It's sort of a lot to take in, Euphemia thinks, and she wonders if she'll even remember half of what the woman had said by the time she laid down in bed tonight. Her memory had never been the best, and it didn't help that every passing second of these last two days had been shock after shock, reveal after reveal. Her attention only snaps into focus when she hears her brother's name again. It's a painfully brief mention. He travels. He's the captain of the naval fleet. They all serve under the woman who had torn their families apart.

She wants to ask for more information, can't you tell me how he is? If he'll be alright? What has he suffered through all these years? Where is he now, at sea or with that woman? What sort of things does he have to do with his supposed "captain" position? Does he ever have the strange dreams I had, or feel like he misses someone he can't remember?

Will he still think of me as family when we see each other again?

But they remain in her thoughts. She bites her tongue, doesn't have the courage to speak up, and maybe somewhere in the back of her head she knows it's better to not know every detail. What good would it do, besides make her feel worse than she already did over it all, or kill her morale?

The others speak, and their questions are answered. It doesn't quite do much to make her feel better when she hears that Ivelda had literally sold her soul to the devil, but she supposed only crazy like that would be willing to do the things she had. Getting rid of ten sets of rulers and brainwashing and enslaving their children? No sane person would do that. Even most insane people wouldn't.

Artemisia speaks up with a question soon enough though, and Euphemia's gaze travels over to her, brows furrowing slightly at the words she barely manages to speak. Would they stand a chance? In her eyes, they wouldn't. Ivelda had murdered twenty adults in one night; there's no way they'd even be able to get her to stumble if what Euphemia imagined was true. But the woman assures them they can. That there's always a chance. Is it just lip service to get them to follow through with what Lilith and Eowyn wanted, or does she actually believe that to be the case?

Would her "belief" in them get them all killed?

Her attention fades in and out as conversation continues and Eowyn resumes her spiels on whatever else there was to talk about: rebellion groups, underground caverns and tunnel system - Paris Catacombs much? - a few name drops of leaders that they could seek out for assistance once they arrived. Would they really be so willing to help them? The "princesses" that had dropped off the face of the earth, abandoned them, left them to suffer for thirteen years? Were the people of Rhindeval that forgiving?

Regardless, it doesn't matter. As per usual, Euphemia finds herself taking a backseat to group discussions like this. She'd let the others do the talking, listen when she felt up to it, and eventually she'd be free to leave - the sooner the better.

Rhea can't help but find herself zoning out a bit throughout the initial conversation held by the others. Too much on her mind, enough to dampen her spirits and usual energy and light that she carried. Renewed memories, university finals, Galen, her brother, Rhindeval, the other "princesses," her parents - both here and in Rhindeval. How was she supposed to focus on conversing and entertaining anyone else when she couldn't even keep her thoughts and emotions in order?

So vaguely she notes that some of the others are exchanging words, trying their best to appear as put together and stable as they could despite everything they were dealing with. Sometimes she keys in a little more, listens a little closer to some of what they say, but when most of the names aren't quite as familiar to her, she doesn't find it in herself to say much. What could she even offer anyway? Nothing she comes up with feels worthwhile or meaningful, nor does it feel like she has any room to try and comfort anyone.

Perhaps she's relieved when Lilith eventually returns to the room and ushers them to the basement. She's quick to follow the woman, rising up from her spot and trailing behind her footsteps as she goes.

The stairway down has a clinging scent of herbs, more than Rhea can identify as they mix and mingle with one another. It's not an unpleasant thing, rather Rhea finds it comforting. Lavender, thyme, rosemary, basil, sage, lemongrass, she knows there's more but it's just those that she can discern from the rest. They remind her of long past memories now, bringing out the ones she's just recalled to a higher degree; her mother's garden where Rhea was only allowed when she was accompanied by someone, full of so many fresh and pleasant scents that left her wishing she could just lay in them, close her eyes and take it all in.

She doubts that garden still exists.

As they round out into the full room of the basement, Rhea finds herself stepping into a dimly lit but comfortable space. There's shelves, a few tables, all lined with herbs, pretty glass bottles, trinkets and other materials that clutter the spaces in an appealing way. The cauldron at the center feels a bit odd, though she's curious of what it might hold; a drink? A concoction? Who knew, except Lilith herself she supposed.

Lilith requests for them to listen closely, and Rhea does her best to even as her eyes wander over each and every surface, almost finds herself reaching to take hold of one of the plants on a nearby table to where she's settled before quickly drawing it back and holding her hand to her chest when the woman asks them not to touch anything. Ah, I'm being careless. I shouldn't be so rude, none of this belongs to me, digging through someone's personal things is...

Starry eyes are drawn back to Lilith with a more full focus finally, and she finds herself giving a soft hum over the woman's explanation. Magic, it's still a bit odd to Rhea, but when she had grown up adoring the idea and coming up with little playtime stories surrounding it, the fact that it existed in reality gave her a bit of excitement, if she was honest. Was it was possible for her to do the sort of things only seen in movies and books? How well could she perform any of it? What did it feel like to do so?

Still, she couldn't fall into another daydream now; there were still explanations and conversations to be had, and she needed to make sure she did her best to remember anything said.

Lilith explains the process of contacting Eowyn, and Rhea finds her mind trying its hardest to connect it to something of modern earth, an easier way to understand what she was saying. "So it's like...magical...FaceTime...but way more tiring...?" It's half spoken to herself, though the longer she thinks about it the less it seems to hold appeal. If magic existed, why couldn't they just find a less difficult way to come into contact?

Though she supposed that the energy cost made sense when she tried to put into perspective the idea of interdimensional communication. Regular FaceTime probably wouldn't work that well if she wanted to speak with someone on a different planet entirely.

Her confusion and attempt at piecing things together comes to a halt as Lilith begins, though. A sort of chant, and there's the sense of something a little heavier in the air, more of a charge. Rhea finds the hair on the back of her neck standing a little at the unfamiliar sensation, the way it leaves the sensation of something shifting in the room, and her eyes are stuck on her former English professor. What exactly was she doing? And how? If this was magic, how would Rhea learn to do it too?

It seems Aurora already has some idea of how to, though. In an instant she seems to be offering her own magic essence, and Rhea finds herself panicking slightly when Artemisia does too. Think, think, think! She wasn't up for humiliating herself arleady in front of the six others she'd likely be spending the next while with, desperate to prove that she wouldn't be a burden, more than just a pretty face or airhead. Tried, harder, wracked her mind as much as she could to recall something, anything from her childhood that might point her in the right direction. Anything her mother or father may have said. Anything Lilith may have mentioned these last two days that might tell her and-

"Relax, Rhea. Take a deep breath, and feel."

It's a distant voice, quiet in her mind, but it's enough to halt her spiraling thoughts. A soft breath in, a slow exhale out, she tries again, puts intent behind her hopes, and eventually the sensation of something being pulled from her buds in her chest. It's a soft feeling at first, though it grows stronger, and she silently hopes that this is working and isn't just her mistaking magic for a temporarily subdued panic attack.

In the end, it seems to work. "Magical FaceTime" springs to life in front of all of them, and on the other end is a woman, unfamiliar to Rhea, but still breathtakingly beautiful. She finds herself staring, unable to tear her gaze away from the stranger in the mist, though she manages to snap out of it once Lilith begins speaking, confirms them as the princesses, and between a few small discussions, Rhea finds herself content to listen to the woman speak. It's a lot of information at once about the princes, but she does her best to note each of them, their names, their positions while trapped under Ivelda's spell. A captain, an inquisitor, an alchemist. More after that, all in positions that she assumes are of high ranking. High profile. Were the people of Rhindeval blinded to the familiarity of their own princes? Or was there something else holding them back from confronting the men with the truth of their background and helping to pull them out of the brainwashing and spells themselves?

Sia brings questions out after her reconfirmation of commitment to going to Rhindeval, an inquiry of whether or not success was possible against someone like Ivelda. A question is returned with a simple reply: there is always a chance. Rhea isn't sure if she takes comfort in that or not, but she keeps it to herself. Sure, it was rather rare that something was 100% impossible, but some things were 1% and 99%. What were their odds? Was their percent one, or ninety-nine?

She's almost startled when she's directly addressed by the blonde woman on the other side, and purple-pink eyes snap to attention at the sound of her name, a little nervous until another name is mentioned. "Arhen?" She echoes, almost caught off guard. He was... "He's...he's alive? Oh, oh thank God, I..." I thought for sure he'd be... "It's such a relief to...to hear that..."

Despite the heavy news elsewhere, Rhea finds comfort in this. In Arhen's life. He had been so young when she'd been taken away, but if after all this time he'd survived, even lead a rebellion movement, then perhaps she could finally put her fears of his fate to rest.

Hopefully, she'd be able to see him again soon.

The time in the basement eventually comes to an end - thank god - and they're freed from the space that was quickly starting to feel suffocating for Euphemia. The walls closed in, the fairy queen's voice burned inside her head, and all she wanted to do was leave. It seemed others were just as eager, Oriane soon making her exit followed by Artemisia, Rhea gone right after and Euphemia saw no reason to stick around, a quick and desperate escape without much of a goodbye to any of the remaining girls or Lilith and the queen.

Tatsuya had been waiting for her when she'd eventually arrived back to her apartment, still hungover no doubt but he was up and going by now, bedhead barely tamed while he poked away at the bit of food left on a plate in the kitchen. At least there was a sense of normalcy when she's gotten back after a few hours of what felt like delusion and dissociation.

It's a week or two before there's any word of things from Lilith again. A week or two that had been nothing short of hell for Euphemia, frankly. Her professor had been kind enough to let her make up the missed solo performance at the fair with a different one for some fundraiser, and while she hadn't aced the rest of her finals, she'd at least passed all her classes. At least that wouldn't cause any issues.

Then came the issue of trying to figure out how to explain all of...this to her family, her friends. Nothing sounded ideal, nothing sounded sane and...she had no idea what to do about it. Were the others being honest? Maybe, but there was no way anyone she knew would believe her. Maybe Tatsuya, but she didn't feel like springing that on him. Her parents - adoptive - were kind, but they'd raised her since she was young, had her through some of her worst mental spirals and breaks, and she knows that if she started talking about these things, they'd assume it was another, panic and worry and probably wouldn't let her leave the home for her safety. She couldn't tell them.

So she doesn't tell anyone. It feels stupid, but being open about these things also felt stupid. Instead she makes up some story about studying abroad, an intense course that would leave her out of contact for a long while. Not to worry about her, because she would be fine. This was a step towards a great career or something cool to put on her resumé, or just some experience and opportunity she couldn't pass up. Her parents had seemed uneasy about it, but supported her when she seemed insistent; perhaps they were happy to see her passionate about something for once? Tatsuya had seemed to have his suspicions too, but he keeps his lips pursed, refrains from saying anything strange. "As long as you're happy, I guess...but how long will you be away?" A few months, probably. Hopefully...not longer than that. "And you can't call? You can't even...write a letter or something?" ...No, probably not. "...Okay. Well just...promise you'll be back eventually, you know? I'll wait for you, I'm sure the others will too. I promise I'll keep your apartment clean and ready for you whenever you're done and back."

She's grateful for him, really. A little reassurance, someone to go back to if things went absolutely south. Sure he was just a friend, but he was her closest friend, as she was to him. Saying goodbye to him was the hardest part of leaving.

She has no idea what she should pack. What was she supposed to expect to have provided when arrived to fantasy land? What would be useless, what would be useful? Surely most of her tech wouldn't do much good, but she still packs her phone; even if it wouldn't work and would probably be dead within the first few hours of arrival, she didn't want it to seem like she was trying to disappear completely or go somewhere to die without a trace if she left it behind and someone found it. She packs some clothes, and a lot of underwear. Even if her outfits and styles probably weren't fitting for whatever style Rhindeval had, she wasn't going to be wearing medieval underwear, thanks! It helped that she went braless half the time too, but she still grabbed a few of them, just to be safe. Shoes, though just comfortable ones, and some more practical pairs of sneakers. Some snacks, little things that probably won't expire for another hundred years, a notebook, and she hesitates, but slips a knife into there as well. A little sense of safety, however odd others might see it. Other practical things are mixed in too.

There's so much more and the bag feels too full, but she tops it off with a few pictures too. Ones that leave a little pang in her heart as she tucks them away into the duffel bag, safe so she could look at them later when being away hurt too much. She never thought she'd care about leaving somewhere behind, but it was different when there was the possibility of no return, and when it felt like it was probably going to be an entirely no-contact, isolation situation. No going back, though.

Euphemia cries for the first time in a long while, full, deep sobs. She's glad no one is there to see it, or hear it.

Eventually she receives Lilith's email, and it's a final hug and goodbye to her parents, her mother who can't seem to hold back tears and her father who holds it together only a tiny smidge better. She hates to hurt them again, to lie again, but she can't find it in herself to be honest about this.

She rides the bus most of the way, then walks the rest, regrets that a bit when the bag starts feeling way too heavy, but it doesn't matter. In time she reaches the only slightly familiar home, a sold sign out front as expected, and Rhea on the step. It felt a bit ridiculous that they were arriving at the same time again, but whatever.

Euphemia lets her duffel bag drop with a hard thud on the porch as she climbs the few steps to the door, careless - it wasn't like there was anything fragile in there - and it seems to startle Rhea a bit, jumping in her spot before turning around to look at her. "Hey again." Comes her voice, "looks like we're on about the same time schedule, the way we keep running into each other here at the same time. Guess you've probably already knocked too."

Arhen's life still being intact hits her deep, and even after speaking she still finds herself shaking a little, small breaths all she can manage as she processes things. It's Artemisia's hand on her head that draws her gaze up from the ground, a little teary, but she tries to blink it back, a faint embarrassment surfacing in the color that reddens her cheeks. So emotional, everyone else seemed to be holding themselves together, but she just...couldn't. And then there's a small, comforting smile, and she lets one or two tears slip past, a small shaky smile of her own in return.

If this was what the others were like, even if it was just Artemisia, then maybe she would be okay. Maybe it wouldn't be so painful, if she could rely on them to be by her side, if they could all work to support each other.

Things seem to be closing out, though, and maybe she's a little relieved, unsure her heart can take anymore pain or stress or even relief at this point, a rollercoaster of emotions of every kind. Eventually Artemisia's hand drops off her head, and her and Oriane are leaving, Euphemia following after them in turn and leaving Lilith, Meridian and Aurora to talk if they weren't also heading out. Rhea had...a lot to do now, after all. Even if most of that was just continued processing.

She had eventually arrived back home, Mathias still waiting there and practically jumping up to greet her with a hug once she'd walked in, not even enough time to slip off her shoes. Too many questions, about how it was, who she saw, conversation and more, and though she knows he means well, she eventually quiets the conversations and questions by announcing her need for a nap. He'd backed off then, letting her go up to her room while mentioning he was heading to the store; he'd cook dinner for the two of them to share tonight.

Though the nap had been an excuse to get away from questioning, she did end up falling asleep. At least this time the dreams stayed away.

The next two weeks passed both fast and slow. Artemisia had suddenly contacted her, apparently getting her number from a friend Rhea knew was in the same department. An order for sets of clothes, and though most assumed it was just for an event or something similar, she knew better. Each of these would be worn by one of them, probably almost as soon as they were finished. Her classmates gladly helped her with the project, an enjoyment out of putting together out of ordinary outfits they weren't used to. In the end they'd barely finished in time, and Rhea had been relieved when they'd been boxed up and waiting for Artemisia's "okay" to ship them.

She'd been doing her best to work things out for her apartment as well. Mathias - now well along in his modeling and acting career - had been happy to offer to cover her rent for her until she came back, almost as if a reassurance that she would still have home home and something of normalcy once she returned.

If she did.

In the end the only one she had been honest with was him. They had always been closest, and while she did love her adoptive parents, her relationship with them hadn't always been as honest and open as it had with her brother. Not related by blood, but they may as well be with how attached at the hip they were. To her parents she had spoken of returned memories, of a trip planned that would last quite some time to return to her hometown - land, but they didn't need to know that - that she would be going with friends - half a lie, half a truth; she wasn't overly familiar with most of them, but she felt like she could trust them, that they could become friends, and maybe she considered one or two of them friends already - and she wasn't sure when she'd be back. They'd seemed fine with it; so long as she was safe, she could do as she liked. She was an adult now, after all. Mathias she was far more honest with, and though he'd had reservations and seemed to be stuck with a decent amount of disbelief, he hadn't vocalized any of it, and had instead done his best to show his support and comfort in words and actions.

She was grateful for him, and if Rhindeval ended up not being the home for her, then she would still have this one to return to.

Mathias had helped her pack, and conversation had been lighthearted, maybe avoiding the elephant in the room, but it could very well be the last ones they ever shared. She's grateful for a bit of normalcy.

Her bag is packed tight, her paranoia getting the better of her. Maybe there's useless things in there, but she can't help it. Sentimental, stressed, clingy. Mathias lets her take one of his rings. There's a little bracelet he gives her too, a simple half pendant on it that he holds the other piece to. Little things to remind her of home, to reassure her when things feel hopeless or isolating.

He's the one to drive her to Lilith's, grumbling a bit about "...shitty roads screwing up my car..." and a few final joking questions over if she's sure she's not joining a cult, but no complaints otherwise. She feels it's his attempt at lightening the mood one last time, before final goodbyes and she can no longer turn back. And eventually they pull up to the house, far too quiet in the car until she finally turns to him, a sudden tight hug as she tries her best not to cry again, but it's in vain. Their final goodbye is painful, and he stays long enough to see her walk up to the door, a wave and a pained smile before he drives away, disappears down the road.

How long would it be until she could see her brother again?

Rhea's gaze settles on the door all the same, her bag still clutched in front of her with both hands, but one moves up to lightly knock on the door all the same. And then she sighs-

And jumps. There's a louder thud as a bag is suddenly thrown onto the porch, and she stares at it for a moment before Euphemia's voice brings her attention back up, a simple, "hey again," offered, a few more words as she settles in next to her on the porch, foot absentmindedly kicking her bag. Rhea hopes there's nothing fragile in there.

"Mhm, just a second ago." Eventually comes her response, small startle fading off and her shoulders relaxing again. "I wonder if we're the last to arrive again too? I could've sworn I left soon enough to arrive a little early..."