"Uncle Drifter!"
A little pink blur slammed into Drifter's midsection, and the spearmaster chuckled as he steadied himself and picked Yui up.
"Hello there, Yui."
"Where is Papa and Mama?"
Drifter pinched her nose and smiled.
"Where are Papa and Mama, Yui. And they are both a little busy right now. Your uncle had a couple tasks for them."
"Like what?"
Drifter's smile dimmed, but he forced it back onto his face so as to not upset the little girl.
"There's a big bad monster on the 56th floor. Your parents and the rest of our guild are investigating ways to beat it. Your Mama didn't want you to be worried, so she asked me to come back and explain to you."
They had already explained everything about SAO to Yui, including what their role as frontliners meant. That wasn't the kind of thing you could keep a secret. The only thing they had held back was the little tidbit that she was - formerly - an NPC rather than a player.
And Yui had taken all of it surprisingly well, including the fact she couldn't level up or learn any skills, for reasons unknown.
All that was to mean that Yui had a fairly decent grasp about the dangers of Sword Art Online, specially after watching the 55th floor boss raid just earlier today. She had been terrified when Drifter got hurt.
So, she didn't throw a tantrum when the spearmaster told her Kirito and Asuna wouldn't be coming back until the end of the day. She just laid her head on his chest and hugged him tightly.
"Hm."
Meanwhile, Drifter and Sasha exchanged looks over her head. Drifter grimaced in response to her worried and anxious expression, and typed a quick message to answer the unasked question.
[ Drifter: It's a mess. One dead already, KoB clearer. We are still working on it. ]
Yui didn't need to know someone had perished. She wpuld be introduced to death sooner or later, as much as the Reavers hated that thought, but Drifter wasn't keen on making that introduction any earlier than necessary.
Sasha nodded her head in understanding, and walked over to gently pry Yui away from Drifter. The spearmaster chuckled at the downcast expression of his newly acquired niece.
"Unfortunately, I can't say either. We'll all come back tonight, but the next couple days the guild is going to be very busy. Can you be a good girl obey Sasha during that time, Yui?"
The little girl pouted but nodded.
"I will be the bestest girl!"
"Hahaha! Thank you, Yui. You truly are adorable. Now, behave. We'll be back before you know it."
Ruffling her hair, Drifter bid farewell to Yui and inclined his head to Sasha, a silent thanks to the caretaker.
The moment he turned around, the easy smile on his face vanished, replaced by a grim frown.
He had kept something from Yui and Sasha. Updating them and reassuring Yui was not the only reason he had come down.
Stepping out of the 33rd floor teleporter in a flash of light, Drifter saw the person he was looking for almost immediately.
She was already waiting for him, her expression peaceful as she sketched the coming and going of players.
Peaceful, until she raised her head and locked gazes with him, and he saw the haunted look in the back of her eyes.
"Hello, Ceba. How are you doing?"
His voice was gentle, gentler than any but the Reavers and a select few others had ever heard it be.
He was speaking like he did with Ran and Yuuki after Merida died. How he consoled Agil and Wolv when Shigio was gone.
He had to be gentle, because Ceba was broken.
Her torture at Red-Eyed XaXa's hands had left her a wreck. The scolding and cold-shoulder treatment Drifter and the other Reavers gave her immediately after, fueled by their grief over Shigio's death and bloodthirst towards Laughing Coffin, didn't help either.
They had come to regret that later, when they saw how damaged Ceba had become.
For weeks after that day, Ceba hadn't left her room. The Reavers hadn't even been aware of it for a couple days, until Argo came to talk with Drifter.
His little rat had made some very good - and guilt-inducing - points about the painter bring just as much of a victim as Shigio.
Drifter had rarely felt more ashamed than he did then. As a frontliner, it was his self-imposed duty to protect all players in Sword Art Online. And he had done the exact opposite with Ceba.
Now, Drifter wasn't so self-centered and narcissistic to believe it was all his fault. The vast majority of the blame laid squarely at XaXa and Laughing Coffin's feet.
Maybe if he had been kinder, however. Maybe if he hadn't been so consumed by grief and hate.
It didn't matter. The past was the past. The damage was done. Ceba refused to talk to him. Refused to talk to anyone.
It wasn't until the Assault Team announced that they had wiped out Laughing Coffin that Ceba cane out of her room. In disbelief and flickering hope at first, until Drifter knelt in front of her, apologized, and promised it was true. Not necessarily in that order.
But no amount of closure could make up for what Ceba had experienced at XaXa and his murderers' hands.
Ever since then, though she had recovered enough to paint again, Ceba strictly stuck to safe zones. She was twitchy and jumpy all the time. If someone startled her, her first reaction would be to pull put her dagger and swipe at them. She had spent 2 weeks in Black Iron Palace for attacking a player unprovoked right in front of the NPC guards in the Town of Beginnings.
That hadn't helped her mental state.
Drifter had never studied the symptoms of PTSD, but he would bet 50th floor mats to cor that she had it.
He had seen it before, in lucky - or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it - players who survived party wipes. Or those who suffered at Laughing Coffin hands - there was something about humans who were worse than mobs that hurt even more.
"Drifter. I am well, thank you. I haven't had an episode in nearly 2 weeks."
The spearmaster smiled at the younger woman.
"That's great to hear, Ceba. It really is. Do you mind if I sit?"
The painter shook her head, and Drifter sat down next to her, glancing at her drawing.
"That's really good. It seems you haven't lost your touch."
"Thank you."
The spearmaster allowed the silence to stretch, simply watching Ceba finish her sketch, until the painter put her pencil down and turned to fully stare at him.
"This isn't just a welfare check, is it?"
Drifter shook his head.
"No. I'm sorry."
Ceba sighed, and lowered her head. Her hands were shaking on her lap.
"What do you need?"
"Your expertise. We met the 56th floor field-boss today."
Ceba still wasn't looking at him.
"So soon?"
"Too soon. It's a whole different thing, some sort of morality test Kayaba set up for us. It already killed someone."
The painter shuddered, a visible shiver that shook her whole body. Drifter's gaze filled with pity, but he knew better than to try to touch her when she was like that.
"I can't do it. I can't go back, can't go out. I won't do it. I won't."
"I'm not asking you to, Ceba. What I need is your brain, not your body."
That got her attention. She was still shaking, but managed to lift her head to stare at Drifter with that unsettling haunted familiarity.
"You promise?"
The spearmaster nodded, and this time he did reach out to hold her, very, very slowly, watching for any signs of rejection and giving her all the time in the world to get away.
She didn't.
Drifter felt Ceba flinching as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, letting her head rest on his shoulder. He had gotten very good at comforting broken people.
"I promise. You are the best lore-chaser in SAO, Ceba. That's what I need from you. Your knowledge."
"Argo the Rat--"
"Argo has to worry about coordinating frontliners, clearers, informants, lifestyle players, intel on quests, mobs, maps, items, and a hundred other things at once. Shadow Blossom deals with the darker side of Aincrad."
Ceba pushed away from him, but Drifter still kept his hands on her shoulders and his gaze unwavering locked with hers.
"Only you focus solely on lore, because of your paintings. Before Laughing Coffin, how many mobs and field-bosses didn't you sketch? You learned everything about them so your works could 'have more soul'. Isn't that what you told me once?"
Ceba nodded minutely. Drifter smiled gently, and picked up the pencil she had put down earlier.
"Can you help us?"
The painter looked at the offered tool, hesitating before taking it. She nodded again, more firmly this time.
"We are looking for any connection between the 56th field-boss, Kura the Sky Lord, and whatever lore you can dig up on the lower floors that links to it. Focusing on the elf floors, since Kizmel recognized it. Said it was a legend amongst her people, but couldn't tell us more."
Ceba locked her lips, her tremors diminishing as she started combing through her memories for anything that fit.
"What does the boss look like?"
"We only saw it briefly, so details are vague, but it was some sort of giant condor or vulture. 20 meters of wingspan, a little less than that in height. All white feathers, except for the head, which didn't have any. That's about it for looks."
Ceba had already pulled out a blank canvas, and was making some rough sketches as Drifter spoke.
"Like this?"
"No, the wings weren't this thick, but they were wider. And not so straight either. More like a gentle curve."
"So, this?"
"Almost. Make the tips sharper, I think."
"What else?"
"Uhmm... The talons. They were bigger."
"Like this?"
"Yeah, that's it. And the beak..."
It was incredible how much more of the white blur's appearance Drifter remembered than he initially thought, all of it coming out under Ceba's artistic nudgings.
By the time she was done, Drifter was holding what he felt was a very credible reproduction of the field-boss, down to the predatory glint in its eyes.
"That's it. Thanks, Ceba."
"No problem. It's... it's good to feel like I have a purpose again. Like I can help."
You. Reaver's Requiem. Shigio.
A lot was left unsaid, but Drifter heard it all the same. He patted the painter on the shoulder in commiseration.
"You are helping. Now, I've already gotten clearers and frontliners going through the 56th with a fine-toothed comb. But I need you to dig up all the lore you can on the lower floors. You have... 46 hours."
Her shoulders set and her jaw locked as Ceba felt the pressure. But she nodded resolutely, and Drifter mused that maybe, just maybe, one good thing would come out of this damn field-boss.
"You can trust me, Drifter. I won't let you down."
Her voice was as steady as his returning grin was sad.
"I know."