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Mirabelle… could admit, maybe she hadn’t been treating this whole “defeat the king” and “savior of Vaugarde” business a little too flippantly.
She was meaning to, really! She was trying to have her act together, to be a good little Housemaiden…
But at the same time, she hadn’t really been trying that hard to get her level up. Avoiding Sadnesses had kept them safe, yes, but it also kept them weak, unable to change.
She had put her new friends, Isabeau and Odile, in danger because she kept steering them away from trouble. Funny how contradictory that ended up being.
The Sadness that had ambushed their little camp was stronger than anything they had faced yet, and they were solely unprepared. If they had taken a few more risks, if they had collected more experience, maybe the fight would be easier…
But Mirabelle had already revived both Isabeau and Odile once, and her own strength was flagging. One more hit, and she would be knocked out herself. In an attempt to protect her, Isabeau stood in front of her, arms bared.
It wouldn’t stop the Sadness for long. They both knew it.
Mirabelle couldn’t bring herself to weep, not yet, but internally she mourned her friends. So soon into the journey, and both of them would die. Because of her.
As the Sadness roared above them, Mirabelle clasped her hands, pressing her forehead to her knuckles. I’m sorry, she prayed to the Change God, or perhaps the Head Housemaiden, if either could hear her. I tried, but I didn’t do well enough. I could have tried harder, but I didn’t. I’m so sorry. I didn’t– I didn’t–
She felt it, then.
A change in the air, a twist followed by a rush of air and the sound of footsteps, too light or silent to be either of her allies. The breeze ticked her duo buns, and Mirabelle blinked her eyes open just in time to see a flash of darkless and glimmering light.
It flew through the air, a backflip over the Sadness, before a flash of Craft energy blasted from their fingertips, scalding into the monster.
It shrieked, tossing its head back as it writhed, taking a step backwards. Landing on the ground, the newcomer adjusted their big, pointy hat, rotating the brim so it was straight again.
“What the…?” Odile whispered.
Behind the newcomer, the Sadness was starting to stand up again, warbling slightly where it stood. They looked over their shoulder, and under their cloak, Mirabelle could see a small glimmer of something metal.
They pivoted on their heel, raising their hands into a scissors sign, and another blast of Craft burst through the air and sunk deep into the Sadness.
It exploded, gunk and goop pelting through the air. Isabeau, still in place before her, protecting Mirabelle from most of the Sadness guts, but he stretched out one arm, too, to defend Odile’s face from getting any on her, either.
The stranger turned around, cloak covered in the lightless mess. Unbothered, they blink at you. “Hey?”
“Oh my Change,” Mirabelle whispered.
Was this– an answer to their prayer? Was the Change God finally doing something? This had to be a blessing! It had to be!
“This is a little far out for travelers to be.” The newcomer says, slowly, as if tasting every individual word. “Are you… lost?”
“No!” Mirabelle practically shouts, ducking out from behind Isabeau and smiling at them. They blink, as if caught off guard by her presence. “No, not lost! Just took… a bit of a shortcut? We’re trying to get to Provence!”
The stranger blinked at them.
“Yeah!” Isabeau agreed, standing at her side. “We are! We know it’s off the main paths, but we thought it would be faster to go right through the woods! The fastest way between two points is a straight line.”
The newcomer visibly considered that, eyes squinting at them for a second. And then they shrugged. “Okay.”
Before Mirabelle could tack anything else onto that, they turned and walked away?!
“H-hey!” Mirabelle squawked, chasing after them. “Wait up! Where are you going?”
They paused, turning back around. They blinked at her, considering her.
They shrugged at her, which was fine. They had only just met. It wasn’t fair of her to just assume they would share everything with her so fast.
“W-well,” she fretted, wringing her hands together. “I know you don’t… We need some help out here, you know!”
“We don’t.” Odile interrupted stiffly. “We’ll just be more careful about Sadnesses from now on. We’ll keep our eyes peeled.”
“No!” Mirabelle argued in retaliation. “We’re not very strong, but we’re working on it! We’re trying to get better! But you…! You seem like you know what you’re doing!”
She twisted her fingers together nervously, watching him like a hawk. “Do you think… you could help us?”
The stranger was still studying her intently, lightless eyes raking over here, Isabeau, and Odile’s faces. She could see the small rustling of their cloak, and imagined they were putting away their dagger.
“What… do you need help with?” They asked, again in that strange tone. They seemed like they were a very thoughtful person.
“Getting back to the main road?” Mirabelle suggested. “Away from Sadnesses, where we can actually get to Provence?”
“Oh.” The stranger blinked. “...you want directions?”
“And a guide?” Mirabelle pressed nervously.
The stranger hesitated, looking around them. “The nearest road is to the… east. And moss grows on the northern side of trees, so if you head… that way,” they pointed, “you should get to a main road in no time! If it doesn’t take you to Provence, it’ll take you to Landear.”
“...I was… hoping you’d show us the way?”
The stranger’s lips pulled into a little frown, and they looked over their shoulder. “...I mean. I suppose I could. But… why?”
“You’re a capable fighter!” Mirabelle pointed out. “And you saved our butts, and we owe you a great deal! We can buy you provisions once we get to the next town? Or… really anything you’ll need?”
The stranger fidgeted. “...sure. It’s not like I’m doing anything else.”
Huh?
“You’re not, like…” Isabeau began, slowly. “Trying to outrun the curse or anything?”
The stranger blinked, watching them with an odd expression over their face. “...aren’t you?”
“Yes!” Mirabelle enthusiastically agreed. “Well, in a way! We’re trying to stop it! We just need to collect three more orbs and we can start making our way to the castle?”
“...orbs.”
“Yes!” Mirabelle said. “We’ve collected two alrea–!”
“Mirabelle.” Odile interrupted, hand slapping down to stop Mirabelle from reaching towards their bags a few steps away so she could pull out the orbs and show them off. “What are you doing?”
“I’m… I’m talking to them!” Mirabelle told Odile. “They saved our lives! Isn’t that worth some thanks?”
“Of course it is, but you do not need to tell a stranger your entire life story! I know you two protest being called children, but I swear, when you act like this…” Odile pinched the space between her nose, mildly shaking her head in irritation. “Tell me, Mirabelle. Have you ever heard the term ‘stranger danger’?”
…well, now. That was just mean.
“Yeah, but they saved our lives! How bad can they be?”
“...Mirabelle…”
“So,” Isabeau said as Mirabelle turned pointedly away from Odile’s exasperation to rejoin him. “Do you have a name, or are we just going to have to think of you as our savior?”
The newcomer stalled. Their eyes darted between the three of them, thoughtful confusion resting on their expression. As they ducked their head, they reached up to grab their hat, hiding their entire face underneath the brim. “...I suppose you can call me… Siffrin?”
…okay that was weird, right? The way they said it made it sound like that wasn’t their name.
They sounded hesitant, but that was just the way they talked, wasn’t it? Sometimes Odile spoke like that, too, when she wasn’t certain of the proper verbiage to use in Vaugardian.
Oh! Maybe this was a traveler, too. Their clothing was unlike anything Mirabelle had ever seen, and their accent was different, too, lighter in a way. They were just a new traveler, and maybe their name just didn’t translate well!
Mirabelle could understand that.
“Well,” Mirabelle said excitedly, “I’m Mirabelle! A housemaiden of the house of Change!”
“And I’m Isabeau, a Defender from Jouvente!” Her friend introduced in turn. “And that’s M’dame Odile, from Ka Bue.”
“I’m perfectly capable of introducing myself, thank you Isabeau.” Odile said, taking a step forward. She gave Siffrin a particularly scathing look, eyes raking over them. “As much as we appreciate your help, we are a strong crew that was simply cut off guard. Don’t try anything with us.”
“Of course not.” Siffrin inclined their head, not looking too particularly worried.
“...we will not hesitate to defend ourselves. What are you? A scissors craft? Isabeau and I both deal Rock damage, and Mirabelle is resistant.” Odile threatened. “We will not hesitate to defend ourselves.”
“Don’t worry.” Siffrin turned around with a twist of their cloak. “I’m not intending to stick around. Just help you to Provence.”
“Madame, you can’t just attack them like that!” Mirabelle hissed, offended on Siffrin’s behalf. She leaned down to grab their bags, and Odile and Isabeau scrambled to follow suit. “They’re helping us! That’s worth something, isn’t it?”
“It is.” Odile mildly agreed. “But I still don’t trust them. We’ll see if they do any conniving business.”
“I’m sure they’ll do just fine,” Mirabelle enthused. She glanced towards Siffrin again, waiting politely for them to finish picking up their stuff. “Do you have anything you need to grab, Siffrin?”
Siffrin startled, as if surprised that they were being addressed. …like they hadn’t recognized their name. Mirabelle carefully didn’t think about it. “...no. I travel light. If you need help, I can carry a bag.”
“We’re fine!” Mirabelle reassured.
“Let’s go, then!” Isabeau said, reaching out to pat the strange traveler on the back, but Siffrin snapped away before he could even make contact. “...lead the way, stranger!”
Siffrin nodded back, slipping to the front of the group. They glanced at the moss on the trees for a second, and then started to walk. Obediently, everyone fell in step behind them.
…Mirabelle had no idea that was about to be their normal for the next few months.