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Heavy clouds of steam weighed down on Nebra after a long day of training her nephew, Leocadio. If she got her way, his training sessions would be shorter and easier, especially when he was so young. Vermillions trained hard, though- it was a necessity to burn off their hot mana, Fuegoleon had informed her- and she was wont to listen to his advice. But she could sense that Leocadio would run out of steam in the figurative sense long before he did literally. His panting had shifted from excited huffs to hard breaths of exertion long ago. Now she suspected that Fuegoleon was missing their tip into sounds of distress. The quirk was a way for him to deal with a taxing affinity, and it was no longer working.
“I think that’s enough,” she finally announced. Leocadio’s mana laced the vapor around them, but hers had full control of it. She was older and stronger, her mana more mature, and she easily took over and evaporated his ability. Her own cool vapor took the place of his steam, and the air cleared. It continued to dissipate the waves of hot mana radiating off of him as she stepped over and placed a hand on his head. Leocadio threw his arms around her leg.
Fuegoleon wiped the sweat from his brow. For a moment she expected him to argue, but when he saw how uncomfortable Leocadio was, his expression fell. “Yes, I think you’re right. Look at me, Cade. Remember those breathing exercises I showed you? Take a deep breath.” He leaned over to pick up his son, warm mana preceding him.
When Fuegoleon drew close, Leocadio wailed like a boiling teapot. Though her mana cooled the vapor around him, heat was still radiating off of little Dio in feverish waves, thick and heavy in a way Nebra’s only was when she was sick. The mana radiating from Nebra’s body must have been even cooler than the magic she had spread through the air, because the toddler clung to her with desperation and pressed his sweaty forehead against her skin. “Too hot!” Leocadio cried. The tears built up in his eyes and vaporized as soon as they slipped past his eyelashes
Fuegoleon recoiled like he had been burned. Pain and helplessness flashed in his eyes as he realized that he was the last thing his son needed. Even if he were completely relaxed, he was still a fire mage. His magic burned hot, and it resonated with Leocadio’s in the worst possible way, now.
Nebra cringed as Dio’s little nails dug into her leg. Despite the work of her mana to cool the air, he was still completely overwhelmed and uncomfortable. Any other child acting like this would only earn her disdain, but her nephew was special. Nebra did her best to be sympathetic. She remembered the days when her powers would overwhelm her. Her vapor would fill the room and thicken the air until she felt like she would drown. She would curl up in her room and cry and cry, her tears adding to the vapor clouding its every corner. “Maybe you should get something to help,” she suggested to Fuegoleon.
The Vermillion was pacing in concern, his arms crossed tightly over his chest like he was afraid they would do harm if he let them. “Yes, you’re right. I’ll have a servant get some ice. You’ll stay, won’t you? Can you bring him inside?”
“I don’t have much of a choice, now do I?” She frowned and scooped up Leocadio. It took a moment to pry the child from her leg, but he readily accepted the opportunity to wrap his arms around her neck and wedge his head under her chin, much to her discomfort. She trailed after Fuegoleon as he hurried inside.
“Thank you,” he was saying. “I’ve never seen his tears do that, usually it’s just a few breaths of steam, and he’s calmed down and gotten it under control. And then he can work it off. I remember having trouble with my magic at his age. Some ice should do the trick… But I really cannot overstate my gratitude. The servants do have some trouble when his steam fills a room, even when he’s playing. And you’ve kept it completely under control.”
She had never heard Fuegoleon chatter like this before. She nearly forgot to nod along when he finally stopped talking. “Would a cold bath help?” she asked.
They both expected Leocadio to object; bathtime was often a battle with him, but he was already crying, and his failure to acknowledge the usual source of his displeasure was damning.
“Yes, yes I think so,” Fuegoleon said. “You’d really do that? Nebra, this is uncharacteristically compassionate. Thank you. I’ll get the servant. I know he’ll be safe in your hands.”
Nebra opened her mouth, cheeks coloring in a mix of indignity and flattery. “What do you mean-!” But the Vermillion had already darted off. She huffed impatiently. “Your daddy can’t help but put his foot in his mouth,” she muttered as she made her way to the bath.
The hot tub they often ended their training session in was too hot to be of any use, so she filled a smaller tub in the area where they washed off before getting in. Leocadio didn’t object to her removing and throwing aside his sweaty clothes, but he realized what was going on when he saw the water.
“NOOO!” he wailed in shock and betrayal. He struggled in her arms, and his mana picked up, but just as before, Nebra’s magic power quashed it, and the only one he managed to hurt was himself with his increasing temperature. The water bubbled around him as she plunged him into it. He cried and flailed, drenching Nebra with cold water from the bath.
She grit her teeth, holding his body securely with just his head above the surface. She knew how unpleasant it was to be dunked in cold water; since a particularly serious bout of illness after she had received her grimoire, she had been prone to getting sick. Many times, she had fevers that needed to be chilled out of her. In a delusional state of mind, she even sometimes fought this treatment so viciously that Nozel was the only one who could bind her with his magic and hold her under. The first time she had been so delusionally feverish was almost completely lost to her, though she remembered her recovery in a way that was, despite her best efforts to reject any good sentiments, bittersweet…
Why was I thinking about that? Nebra shook her head and dragged her attention back to the present moment. The water had warmed, but Leocadio had also exhausted himself. His mana had settled. She could sense that it was in a precarious state and the slightest displeasure would make it flare again, but she deemed it safe to dry him off and get him dressed.
He panted miserably when he was moved. His mana threatened to act up, but hers bullied it into submission. With clean, dry clothes(a luxury Nebra didn’t get after being soaked first by steam and then by bath water), he was as comfortable as he could be until his magic power waned.
A servant met them outside the bath, with Fuegoleon a few paces behind her. A cool aura radiated from her, and Nebra guessed she must have ice magic or something like it. Nebra carefully shifted Leocadio into the servant’s arms. He let out a whine of protest and, for a frustrating moment, a breath of steam.
“Cade, look at me,” Fuegoleon spoke up. He took a deep, demonstrative breath. “You remember your breathing. Breath in with me… In… Out… Good.”
Leocadio’s lip quivered with the first few exhales, but he followed his father’s lead. Each breath had less steam. His eyes slipped closed, and his mana again ebbed to a manageable, but precarious state.
Fuegoleon continued to reassure him as he drew closer, but not too close. As he accompanied the servant to Leocadio’s room, he offered Nebra an apologetic look over his shoulder and mouthed ‘Thank you.’
The sincerity behind the look struck Nebra. He looked at her like she had saved Leocadio's life: with gratitude and admiration. She ran her hands down her face. Despite the circumstances, her lips cracked into a smile behind them. Maybe it was the exhaustion making her giddy. Maybe it was the fact that the last person who looked at her like that was-!
Her good mood stuttered to a halt. She slammed the brakes on that thought process and dropped her hands to her sides. I don't still feel like that. Especially not about him, she admonished herself. She turned on her heel and walked back into the bath. Her clothes would need to be washed. She could clean up and relax in the meantime, and try to shake these troubling feelings.
Nebra took her time in the shower, letting her mind wander in the vapor. But she didn't like where it went. She tried again to relax in the bath. That was where she was when Fuegoleon arrived.
His footsteps plodded in on the other side of the curtain dividing the bath. "Nebra, are you still here?"
"Yes. How is Dio?"
She was relieved when she heard him step into the water and settle on the other side of the curtain. "His mana settled down enough for him to get to sleep. I think he'll be alright… You helped a lot tonight. I need to thank you again."
That warm feeling resurfaced. Nebra didn't know if it was one she should shy away from or not. "... I didn't want my student to turn himself into a steamed dumpling, that's all. Honestly, how embarrassing."
His answer was a loud, breathy laugh- one of a man relieved. It felt proud and powerful and full of admiration and again, it made Nebra squirm. "Thank you," he repeated. "You're a fantastic teacher."
Nebra pressed her hand to her lips. Being praised like this by someone she felt this way about was too familiar. It felt wrong to be flattered. "That's enough, Fuegoleon."
"I didn't offend you, did I?" He asked sincerely.
"No. It's just…" The room grew quiet.
"...Nebra?"
She took a breath. "I didn't mind. That's all."
Relief softened his words. "I'm happy to hear that. I hope it wasn't too undignified for you. Would you like to stay for dinner or do you have plans at home? I know it's been a long day, and you Silvas get cranky when you're hungry."
It had been. Nebra was hungry. Being praised like this… it made her feel as good as she did guilty. A different kind of hunger. One that had hurt her before. "I'm fine," she mumbled, distracted.
"Oh. Okay." The gentle sound of Fuegoleon moving in the water was the only noise for a moment. Her incomplete answer and lack of a quip left him at a loss. "... Are you feeling alright?"
No. Nebra curled her hands into fists and pressed her knuckles into her lap. She could imagine her dress twisting between her fingers, handsome writing before her, and the strength of her crush- like it had been written out in declaration. The same feelings picked up years later, as if they had never gone away. Those feelings- as wrong as she knew they were- felt just like the bouts of sickness that came back year after year.
"Nebra?" His tone had softened.
"Can I tell you something, Fuegoleon? Something you must keep between us?" she murmured.
"Yes, I'm listening," he said seriously.
"I… haven't felt appreciated exactly like this in a long while."
"Really? You are very skilled, Nebra. I'm sure any reports about you must be full of praise- and your siblings think so highly of you!" he encouraged.
Again, that mix of guilt and giddiness: butterflies that turned her stomach. "Yes, they are. And I guess they do."
He huffed. "I've talked to Nozel about this-"
"He's been better about it. Especially since…"
He waited. He seemed to be holding his mana close, doing his best to be unreadable despite the curtain between them. Droplets of vapor landing on his skin told her that his face was a patient mask.
Nebra bit her lip. "Well, you know when he really started working on it. Even though he tries, it is… hard. To find someone who really makes the words stick. I should be over it by now, but only... one person ever had such a way with words."
"..."
As the silence that followed stretched out, she sunk deeper into the water. I shouldn't have said anything. What he must think of me… “I know that was the problem, then. With Ferdinand… I felt that way when I shouldn't have."
“Now is an appropriate time to feel good about yourself,” Fuegoleon finally said, probably relieved to have found a foothold in the conversation. “You shouldn’t keep that man on your mind. That was all well in the past. Didn’t the royal doctor say you were alright…?”
“Yes. This isn’t something I would let interfere with my performance,” Nebra said confidently. “There’s no lingering magical effects. Once his spell was broken, it was obvious where his magic ended and where my feelings began.” Her confidence waned. If anyone was going to understand this, it would be Fuegoleon; he had experienced Ferdinand’s sway firsthand, afterall. They had gone through it together. It didn’t make this much easier to admit, but these feelings had been bottled up for years. They needed an outlet. She turned her attention inward and pretended she was speaking only to the mist. “Do you ever still think about Ferdinand?”
Fuegoleon sighed. “Rarely… But he manipulated you in an insidious way, and I don’t think it’s wrong that you still have strong feelings about that.”
The sound she forced out sounded almost like a sincere laugh. “I do hate him. I promise you that. The only problem is that you did play a role in that… and you occasionally remind me of it.”
“Excuse me?” He couldn’t hide his knee-jerk offense. Nebra was too embarrassed to explain it to him, and let him work back through the conversation to recall exactly what she meant. “What… oh.” She could imagine him running his hand down his face. “Well, you deserve someone who lets you feel appreciated,” he backtracked.
“Yes. I know you’re not trying to manipulate me. I don’t hold it against you.”
“But it does make you uncomfortable,” he murmured half to himself.
“Rarely.” She could feel the tension in her muscles unwinding slowly and she pushed onward, hoping to get all of the guilt out of her system so long as he was willing to receive it. “It… It makes me miss writing letters.”
“You can still write letters- I’m sure you do, with your distant family members, to your squadmates-”
“Recreationally, Fuegoleon.”
“Hm… I am not opposed to the idea, if a penpal would help you work this out.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she let out a burst of surprised laughter. “That- Don’t you think that’s a bit too on the nose?”
“What do you mean?”
Nebra put her hands over her face, but her mood had lifted. As red as her cheeks were, she was smiling. “... Maybe sometime in the future. Don’t worry about it.” When he didn’t agree immediately, she added, “ please. ”
“Alright,” the Vermillion conceded. “You sound like you’re feeling a little better.”
“I am,” she agreed. “This helped.”
“Good. I am honored you could confide in me.”
Her smile persisted as she pulled herself onto the lip of the tub. “Mhm… I suppose I got a little carried away.”
“It’s not a problem,” he assured her.
“Problem or not, I should be getting home.”
“Wait.” she could hear him rising quickly from the water. “I’d like to see you off. Meet me at the door?”
She tilted her head curiously and got to her feet. “Sure. I’ll see you there.”
Her clothes had been cleaned and dried, and she pulled them on and tidied up before meeting him at the front door. He had obviously dressed and groomed quickly, and he had a slightly tousled look that only made him appear more sincere and handsome. He offered her an encouraging smile as she approached and moved to meet her. His arms opened and enveloped her with surprising swiftness. She found herself pressed to his muscular chest with a thick arm around each shoulder. His chin nestled into the crook of her neck. His mana was warm and inviting, and his hug firm. He had put his full body into it.
Nebra froze, her breath catching in her throat and her eyes bugging. When he didn’t release her, she cautiously put her arms around him too. She listened to his heart thump in his chest and tuned her breathing to his.
Until the moment he pulled away. He offered her a warm look. “I wanted to be certain you didn’t go home with your morale low. You don’t have to feel guilty for being appreciated.”
“My…” Taking a step back, she raised her hand to her lips and looked away. That’s one way to raise my morale. From the corner of her eye, Nebra glanced back up at his face. He looked proud and serious. Her sheepish smile grew. She was careful to keep it hidden as she lifted her chin and strolled past him out the door. “Of course I don’t. Goodnight, Fuegoleon.”
His voice carried the same warmth as his embrace as he called after her, “Goodnight, Nebra.”