A couple hours later, Alto stands in front of the royal palace, looking out at the sea of elves below her.
Mizuki and Nina are beside her, the former staring at the crowd, his expression a mix of apprehension and bewilderment. Nearby, Ilina stands with a regal air – close enough to Mizuki to convey familiarity without betraying anything more intimate. Her gaze occasionally flickers between Mizuki and the crowd, a trace of nervousness betrayed in her eyes.
At the edge of the steps, closest to the crowd, Queen Elira and King Dargo stand with their royal entourage, Alara, the other nobles, their focus fully locked on the scene below with the practiced calm of true rulers. The morning has drifted by, the preparations have been made, the people of Avalon have had their time to socialize and enjoy the festive atmosphere in the plaza below, and now it's time for the main event.
Alto throws one last look at Mizuki, a small, happy smile forcing its way to her lips as events of the last day or so play through her mind. Especially the events of this morning.
As much as she trusts Mizuki, a part of her still couldn't help but be worried how he might react to the meeting with her parents. After all, even she knows that she was rather...venomous, to her father in particular. She didn't mean to be, couldn't help it...but, neither does she regret it. The experience was liberating, actually.
Watching her father's eyes rake over her irreverent attire disapprovingly, watching his expression twist in fury every time she interrupted him or forced him to acknowledge her station above him, even watching the shock and disgust on his face at the end as she wrapped herself around Mizuki far more provocatively than necessary – it was...perfect. Even now, those memories bring a smirk rich with petty glee to her face.
Still, with Setti's typical false politeness working overtime, and their lack of history, it would have been characteristic of Mizuki to give the man the benefit of the doubt. To insist on removing himself from the 'family' talk. Even if she'd understood the reason, that possibility scared her. It would have stung in a way she can't quite rationalize.
Yet, Mizuki did no such thing. He...beared witness, mostly silent and supportive, not showing the slightest displeasure with her. He didn't even pressure her for an explanation afterwards.
Remembering how he handled the aftermath of the meeting, what he said to her, she can't help but stiffen as a warm, unsettling feeling takes hold low in her gut. The memory nor the accompanying sensation is uncomfortable. Quite the opposite. Instead, she stiffens because the sensation – still relatively new to her – reminds her of when she can first remember feeling it, days ago. The same day she had that lucid dream...
Remembering her encounter with Dream Mizuki causes the sensation to intensify, her expression becoming something more troubled, conflicted.
Ultimately, she did not acquiesce to his...or, her...provocations. She did not kiss him or anything else so bold, as he/she suggested. Yet, it is exactly that inaction that has repeatedly invaded her thoughts unbidden since the dream, much as it has now, forcing her to ponder questions for which she has no definitive answers.
Why did she refuse to do it, in the end? Logically, it was just a dream, the perfect stage to test the unfamiliar dynamics of intimacy with him without repercussions...for research purposes. To interrogate her own unfamiliar emotions. Yes, if she was behaving rationally, she should have simply done as Dream Mizuki suggested, right? So, does the fact that she didn't...wouldn't, mean she was scared? Scared of what?
And what about the fact that, no matter how hard she tries, she keeps rethinking something she didn't even do, in a setting that wasn't even reality. Does it mean she regrets her inaction? If she regrets it, does that mean she...wants...to...?
The mental extrapolations cause a fresh wave of that warm sensation in her belly, causing her to grit her teeth in frustration.
'This is completely maddening...I have far too much else to worry about!'
The thomellaray research, the so-called scaffold particle of the Great Spirits that's recently enraptured her, numerous curiosities in her new research lab, not to mention the mystery of the Author and her fervent desire to overcome her fundamental magic limitations. It's fair to say she's quite busy.
Remembering something else, she suddenly glances at Mizuki again, worry etching into her features, her prior emotional turmoil briefly forgotten.
'Plus, there's his...condition, I think...'
She started noticing it over a week ago, or thinking that she noticed it. It's rather hard for her to be sure, given her limited magic sense capabilities and Mizuki's own absurd constitution. But the Bonding with Ciri was a key turning point in her certainty. And since, she's paid careful attention to him – every time he's practicing a spell during their 'research' sessions, whenever he teleports them somewhere distant, whenever they go flying at high speeds. Now, she's sure...
The condition's onset is slow, and its effects hard to notice on someone as powerful as him – that's part of why it's taken her so long to be sure of his condition. Not much time has truly passed since she learned how to use magic sense in the first place, and trying to gauge Mizuki's magic levels is like trying to measure the sun's light with the naked eye.
Nevertheless, she's convinced that the rate at which his powerful spells drain his magic reserves is increasing, even if his overall reserves are barely dented from them. Similarly, his Bond with Ciri, which she monitored closely, almost seemed like it slightly reduced his capacity, instead of expanding it. All of this has led to her to an unsettling theory...
Mizuki is losing his magic.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬
My eyes sweep absentmindedly from one pair of pointy ears to another, giving me a strange awareness of how odd it is to be surrounded by so many people so different from me, not identifying with any of them.
I blink.
Is this how that one girl in our statistical mechanics class felt? If so, no wonder she didn't accept any of my invitations to the class study sessions. Now that I've noticed it, it's fucking eerie.
My gaze drifts instinctively to a particular elf nearby, silver-haired, beautiful beyond reason, and giving me a look that poorly conceals her apprehension. I smile affectionately, winking, which causes her to blink in surprise, before narrowing her eyes in annoyance and glancing pointedly towards the crowd.
I can practically hear her saying, 'you will blow our cover, dumbass!' in that performatively annoyed tone of hers. The thought causes me to smirk.
[Your ass looks great in that dress, Princess...] (Mizuki)
Ilina stiffens after my telepathic message, glancing away towards the proceedings with a stoic expression. Yet, I don't miss the faint blush spreading over her face, nor the way she fidgets slightly, discreetly smoothing the fabric of her dress behind her.
I chuckle internally at the sight. Then, my expression cools to something more serious, my eyes sliding to Elira and Dargo at the top of the platform. I can feel it in the way the nobles nearby straighten slightly, as the excited whispers of the crowd below almost instinctively quiet...
It's time.
Elira steps forward, silencing any remaining chatter with a raise of her hand, then brings the megaphone-like enchanted item I recognize from the last royal event to her mouth. Her voice booms down the stairs and over the plaza, refined and pleasing to the ear despite its volume and commanding tone.
"Elves of the Kingdom! Welcome! I am sure, for many of you, questions abound about the reasons for this Royal Announcement, so soon after the last one. Rest assured, there is much to be discussed today...matters that will change our Kingdom forever." (Elira)
She pauses, and whispers overtake the crowd, its elves glancing at one another nervously. Paying them no mind, she continues.
"However, before we move on to announcing these matters...I wish to tell you all a story." (Elira)
The crowd's apprehensive whispering transitions into something more uncertain, confused, and I catch puzzled expressions throughout its ranks. Elira smiles wryly, as if finding some small amusement in the absurdity of her speech.
"This is a special story, previously known only to some members of the royal family. A story that exists at the intersection of myth and history. A story...about the origins of the First Queen and every high elf alive today." (Elira)
At her last words, excitement washes over the crowd, intensifying their whispering, before they fall silent with rapt attention. After all, while most elves have heard of the First Queen and her astounding accomplishments, and are generally aware that she's the common high elf ancestor, almost nobody is aware of a story detailing how her and the high elf sub-race came to exist.
Seeing their interest build, Elira takes a subtle, steadying breath, throwing one last glance at me. Then, she speaks.
"Eons ago, on the world where elves first originated...our kind were not alone..." (Elira)
And so, the story of the Nephilim unfolds before nearly a fifth of the Elven Kingdom's citizens – those that could make it to Avalon, and who will serve as messengers of the Royal Announcement's events in the days to follow.
Elira shares the history of the Nephilim, as the elves' surviving fables depict it. Their heritage as 'children of the gods', their incredible power, lifespans, wisdom, and propensity for creation, their role in helping the elves prosper into what they are today, and ultimately, the First Queen's true identity as a half-Nephilim, and the diluted connection between the mythical race and today's high elves. Finally, their mysterious disappearance, their fate lost to time...extinction or survival unknown.
When she finishes her narration, the crowd has fallen silent, captivated by her exquisite storytelling. Even I, an alleged Nephilim, can't help but find myself drawn into the lore, yearning to know more about the enigmatic race.
Recognizing the thoughtful silence of the crowd for the opportunity it is, Elira continues, dropping her most shocking revelation on the crowd.
"Now, after all this time, we finally know their fate...and a Nephilim walks among the elves again." (Elira)
Silence!
The entire plaza falls prey to a quiet so intense that I can hear the nervous shuffling of the crowd's feet, the faces below us full of disbelief and the kind of confusion that says some of them are still struggling to process the implications of Elira's statement.
After several moments, hesitant whispers begin. Then, those whispers grow, turning to full-on chatter, swelling until the crowd erupts in shouts of varied intent. As the magnitude of the reaction threatens to spiral out of control, Elira raises her hand again, slowly managing to reclaim their attention. She smiles, casting me a furtive glance before addressing the crowd again.
"Your shock is understandable. I'm sure this is a difficult assertion to accept, even from your Queen. So, perhaps it's time you hear it directly...from our Kingdom's own Nephilim." (Elira)
Elira lowers the magic mic, slowly turning her gaze in my direction with an inviting smile. Registering her words and intent, furious whispers of confusion and then excitement break out among the crowd, their collective gazes following their Queen's line of sight eagerly. Innumerable pairs of eyes sweep over myself and the others, looking through us, clearly trying to locate an unfamiliar face.
I smile wryly.
I guess it's showtime.