Cheryl
"They're not daft, but they are careful. You travel and sell potions, you have magical ability, you've studied but not in an academical way. You're a Witch. I've met a few, though I'll say the practice seems to have become refined..." The last bit he said in an almost absent tone, as if speaking to himself. 

Magic caught her attention it seemed, and he leaned back seeing her retreat. 

"So let's make this a conversation about work. Healing potions, how much do you usually sell them for?" He asked, pulling a gold coin from his pocket in a fluid motion and rolling it across his knuckles, the other hand forming a fist for his chin to rest upon. 

This was it now, either he connected or she fled and this opportunity whatever it was, passed and was in accessible to him. Why had fate interwoven their threads together? Was it chance, or was it all part of the ever expanding tapestry? 

After years of dreamless sleep, he'd awoken in a time that did not want him- he had nothing, was nothing, when once he'd had nearly everything and been the right hand of the one who did. Now he was just a speck on an ocean so vast it was inevitable that he would drown if he did nothing.
Charles
*At the mention of the word careful, Esme's lips give a tiny twitch in her smile before her gaze is sent a bit downcast. It is not out of melancholy or fear, but more amusement that someone picked up on her intention so quickly. Most assume she is simply timid or shy and depending on the situation, that is only sometimes true. But what is always definitive, is she is a woman of great caution. Even feeling her heart stop for a moment at the mention of witch. It is a new era, she need not be afraid of the title. She embodies it well yet there is still a part of her that will always remember the hubris of her lose coven.*

"Alright then, I will tell you." *She then pulls out the small vial that contains a peach colored liquid.*
"I sell about three of these as a packaged deal for two gold each. Of course more expensive options yield greater outcomes than lesser healing potions."

*It is packaged nicely, even having a small star chain made out of a fine copper that matches the one that dangles from her hat. An artist's footprint, every artisan has one. She gestures her palm forward, flicking up her left hand to reveal beautiful nail guards probably more expensive than all three healing potions combined. The tip them are sharp and while it was once concealed as she kept it close to her bag at all times. She carefully produces a tiny cut to her porcelain perfect skin. Making it deep enough to reveal a very small droplet of blood, to of which she cleans up with a small dab of the potion after she unscrews the top. The wound is cleared in a matter of seconds, leaving behind nothing but perfection.*

"I also value integrity." She hums, now gesturing for Noctis to take the tester if he so pleases. A bit of a bold display but perhaps one most needed when healing potions are involved. If she was truly shy, she wouldn't dare such a move.*

"I use Red Amanita mushrooms mixed with other medicinal herbs, as well as fruit extract so it is not so bitter to down."

*She also seems transparent as well. Though it is unlikely she is telling the complete ingredient list, but is at least disclosing what is more important. Esme is a business woman, even if it is not her main trade and being considered well-studied would be an insult to her. She speaks with confidence and no matter how cute the vial looks, the properties in that liquid are no joke. Of course... She has had a couple years to study. This does tend to make her an expert in certain aspects of alchemy and herbalism.*
Cheryl
His smile was a dazzling display of pearls, it was power and confidence and yet gentle, it wasn't cold and inhuman like so many practiced and perfect smiles often were. The day Noctis had been born, he'd laughed, it was a sound of joy, it was a celebration of his existence. He wasn't the child of a god of war, or of strength or magic or time, he was the god of something ageless and timeless, something that would persist even when war had ended and strength would fail and magic would fade- he was the son of a god of beauty. Beauty that existed in the cosmos, in the rustling of leaves, in the dance of fireflies or the swells of oceans. Beauty existed anywhere that life dwelled, beauty was subjective, beauty was what sat at his core. 

Yes he'd trained to be a spy, to be an assassin, an infiltrator. He knew all the techniques and maneuvers of the court, how to blend with the common, the brutish, the valiant. Yet nothing in his skill set or in his magics was as powerful as his simple ability to be charming- because it wasn't a facade, it wasn't a hoax, it was just who he was. 

Noctis listened to her speak with careful intent, nodding at her ingredients and watching closely with interest as she cut herself and then healed. Slowly peeling his glove away from a delicate hand that could never belong to a warrior, he cut his skin and then healed it the same way she had. He was impressed, for the price she sold it was high quality. Valac couldn't even heal that quickly. 

"Esme." He said her name as if her were savoring it, rolling it along the sheet music of his tongue and playing it out in the air between them. Esme's favorite scent would wash over her, everyone smelled their favorite things around Noctis. 

"Why do you make potions and sell them? What's your goal, ultimately. Or I guess, the way I see it, what exactly is your dream?" He pushed the potion back to her and crossed his arms over the table, once again leaning only slightly towards her as he awaited her answer.
Charles
*Esme is quiet as Noctis inspects the tester. Her smile is tranquil and her shoulders a bit relaxed. She may practice healthy caution but she is speaking to him with a welcoming tone. As if to assure him that should anything go wrong, she is here. A bit odd given there is no reason to act in such a way and as their drinks arrive. Esme continues this persona of sorts. Whether or not Noctis believes it true, she has always been sincere in the way she conducts herself. Not even minding if the man makes a second test with the vial if he so chooses. But then her eyebrow raises to the question, one that has never been asked to her before.*

*Why does she make potions? Her smile remains and as she looks down, her hand raises towards her heart as she becomes lost in thought. Selfishness... It is a human condition, a matter of fact for survival. But is it truly selfish to wish good fortune and blessing to those who need it? As there is evil there is goodness, a balance Esme knows all too well. So upon raising her head, she formulates an answer.*

"It is not anything truly righteous nor is it out of pure greed. I suppose I do it because I can and perhaps because it is maybe what fate has decided I do. Why go against what you are naturally good at?" *She replies, her tone truly soft.*

*In helping others find answers they seek to their ailments, perhaps Esme will find her own one day too. But that is a story best kept within and as her hand falls back down to her lap. Stars dance in her eyes as they shine upon her loud witch hat. Perhaps she is an aspect of hope? Or maybe just a witch seeking to do good to right the wrongs of her ancestors. Or maybe she is just adrift, taking life as it presents itself to her. This answer, she does not have yet.*

"I care very little for coin and I will admit, it is good knowing I do some good. A guilt free conscious is one better than plagued with the pain that comes from the past. But I am no angel, nor a miracle worker. I am simply a potion peddler that likes to dress like a fairy book witch." *She hums, telling half truths yet being sincere all the same.*

"I hope that answers your question, Mister Camille."
Cheryl
*"It is good knowing I do some good."* Once he had felt like he was doing good, more than some, he felt as if he were a catalyst for good under the leadership of Scipio. The Conqueror they called him, but he was the one who United the realms, he brought an age of prosperity and peace. Noctis could feel that flame of loyalty still burning so hot and deep within him, it would take the coldest and deepest waters to put it out. 

"Just Noctis, please. I hold no titles, there is nothing to me right now but Noctis. It does, in a way, answer my question. Yet... It doesn't. There must be something you want, something you really desire. You see for me..." He said, taking a sip of his spiced wine and gazing at her over the rim of the cup, drumming his pianist fingers upon the surface. 

"I wish to know everything that the Eternal Empress has contained in her histories." It was a bold claim, it was a stupid claim- it was insanity to admit to anyone. To gain that kind of access one would need to *Be* The Eternal One, or break in and steal. Neither were possibilities in this life or the next. 

"I have impossible dreams Esme, the weave that flows around us is an infinite source and yet we've barely tapped it. There are a million unknowns in a persons life- is there truly nothing that you truly and deeply want?" 

He had stepped out on the tight rope, he was dancing with insanity- but he was going to through the pole to the wind and hope that this woman, Esme the Witch, would give him a chance to see how they connected. Having a potion maker in his party, alongside a thief and a being of darkness that could regenerate and had massive reserves of dark energy. With those kinds of people to work alongside, he could be one step closer to knowing what happened to Scipio, to the 11. 

Was this woman destined to be part of his plan, or was this just a chance meeting? It all was hanging right between them in the form of their words.
Charles
"Well I suppose that is what separates dreams from ideals... Isn't it?" *She murmurs just before taking a little sip from her glass. Esme tends to avoid the toxins that is alcohol. Which is exactly why water suits her just fine. Plain but a necessity.*

"Dreams are truly only as impossible as you make them to be I would imagine... The greater they are, the harder they are to accomplish. But knowing what it means to accomplish them for yourself is what matters. Though I suppose I am speaking too abstract."

*He is up front, Esme can give him that. Two hundred, three hundred, a thousand years is only a small dent in a the vast eternity. The witch knows this. Plus as far as witching goes, she is still really young and while years of wisdom lay within her eyes. There is plenty of mystery and unknown that even she cannot see. Understanding what cannot be understood was once one of the covenants of her coven. It is why is an observer.*

"There are neither certainties or uncertainties in life, I believe. This is what I apply to dreams. What do I want? Love."

*And then the world around her is silent as she smiles at the man. It is a simple wish, naïve some may say. But true love, not in the fairy tale sense, is a concept practically unobtainable. A witch no longer bound by time, she need not say it to show it. Her youthful appearance as it is beautiful seems otherworldly, impossible. Traits of course, only seen in witches who are blessed... Or unfortunate enough to be removed from the greater hourglass that determines the expiration dates of life.*

"To love the endless magic, to be loved by it. To love time. But how can you get a concept to love you, if I may ask?" *She then chuckles as small cracks in her mask reveal itself and there sits a girl, quite taken by endless grief.*
"Perhaps my purpose is to also understand the weave. But to be loved by it, is completely different. But... It is best not to dwell on such philosophies as of now. We have only just met, I dare say."

*As she gives a small tip of her glass, Esme swallows down a greater understanding that she is not being direct. With these concepts, she simply cannot. She also isn't keen on unmasking such secrets, not to a stranger. Shared ideals or not, it is simply too risky and bold ideals and being open about them is how she will get herself killed. As her glass is set down she glances to the same direction again and a small chuckle escapes past her soft lips.*

"May I ask you, do you think your dreams are at least determined by fate? I see to it only fair I get to ask you a question now."
Cheryl
Featherlight brushes against his skin, soft words of affection murmured in the early hours within his elegant chambers there within the mighty palace that housed the First Emperor. The cradle of peace, and it had been his home, his joy and he had wanted that love, had thought he'd had it. Love had been his demise. 

"I think that fate guides us, I think that fate is nearly inevitable- but I *Know* It can be shifted if you try hard enough."

With a sigh he sat back in his chair. He wasn't sure if that was a lie or not. Noctis wasn't sure why he was chasing after this, he could probably find other people, surely he could find others, easier to convince and to pull to him, but yet here he was still... 

"I don't mind you questioning me Esme." There was such a sincerity in his tone that it couldn't be faked. He didn't mind. Sometimes he felt he should question himself, but perhaps this was a fine start. 

"We both want the impossible- we both crossed paths today. Is that fate? Or are we denying it by even talking? Would fate design us to want what it's never allowed anyone to have, would it give us the chance to meet?" His voice was low, it was practically caressing her, it wasn't intentional, he was just as deep in thought as her trying to answer the question he'd just asked.
Charles
"Maybe it has, maybe it hasn't. But again... I am just a potion seller." *She jests with a shrug of her shoulders.*

*Then she glances towards the waitress moving towards the bards who set the mood of the inn. Drinks shaken, she is without balance plenty of times Esme has seen the repercussions of workers who spill the inn's prized goods. Softening her golden gaze, she even goes as far as to point out the woman with a single gesture at Noctis. Her smile still present though subtle this time.*

"Her fate is to lose this job today." *She whispers as if on cue.*

*The girl begins to fumble and as her eyes widen in fear. Whereas just minutes ago she was serving them drinks, she is now seconds of way from not only taking a nasty fall. But spilling everything on the serving tray. All while her boss watches from behind the counter. It is clear this is not the woman's first offense but it will not be her last. Yet Esme whispers a command phrase of will in a foreign tongue, it sounds practically alien. Yet as it is whispered, the candle light flickers out and their table becomes exceptionally dark.*

*But what illuminates the room is the waitress's face, shown with relief as she clutches onto her chest. Unknown magic woven to ensure the mistake is promptly corrected before fate could truly determine that the girl shall fall. Setting down the tray to catch her breath, a couple of the patrons make sure she is okay, to of which the girl nods to let them know that she is.*

"Yet in a blink of an eye..." *She begins to hum, tilting her head back as she leans into her seat.* "It changes..."

*Her gaze than flickers over towards Noctis again as yet another tricky but interesting secret is revealed. Whatever magic she has casted, she was able to sway the outcome with just a flick of the finger. Yet Esme will not receive thanks or any acknowledgement for it. She smiles just as she always has and with a finish of her drink, she bows her head at the gentleman again. Divination magic is a tricky thing and very few can actually capture it. Yet she wove it so effortlessly if Noctis is even aware of what she had just done.*

"I should get going to my shop now though. I shall ponder your words, however, traveler." *Esme then comes to a stand, this time giving the man a proper curtsy.* "So if you would excuse me..." *She then trails off. Whether or not Noctis pursues the myster or not is up to him. But the woman is fickle like the wind and he may not ever see her again. For a being such as herself has likely lived this long due to her cautious and elusive nature.*
Cheryl
It was not often that Noctis was surprised by anything. He had survived the Cousin Conflict, he'd been born in the age of Demigods, had sat in the mind halls of his father, dueled legends in current history, faced dragons twice and survived both times- he had been the knife in the dark and beautiful rose of the First Emperor. Yet this woman's magic... 

*"Can she affect probability? Or was it the very fabric of fate itself that she just touched?"* His mind was a whirlwind, it raced and it danced. This was *New* Magic to him, he'd never seen anything quite like it. Just a potion maker indeed. 

"I was removed from fate." He said suddenly, rising with her. In the moment he looked almost boyish, his wavy raven hair parted across his face to reveal his silver eyes were shifting to a softly glowing amber. He was *Elated* To find someone this rare, this unique. What the hells was that? 

"I was thrust from time- removed from it by... Something. The gods, dragon magic- I don't know. This Aeterna is not my own." Taking a step closer to her, he didn't care if it would upset her. There was a fire lit inside of him. 

"I'm forming a party, Esme. A party designed to do the impossible. I want you to join it. Sell your potions, we will protect you. I ask nothing of you but that you travel with me and the companions I have. I seek things that are beyond what is woven- you hold the needle." His voice was soft now, others glanced at them but he didn't care, for once his eyes were just for Esme. 

"Safety is promised, and when you chase a goal as big as mine many things follow. Already I've met people with great magic- magic that's out there for you to see. Come with me and my companions, you'd be able to leave freely when you felt it necessary." 

Normally Noctis spoke as if he were dancing with his words, but it was time to throw the spear and see where it struck. This woman presented something unique, something unthought of in the game of chess against all of Aeterna that he had been

Playing. 

"Travel with me a while, see the world and know on my honor that when you choose to return to a safe place that you will make it there alive." 

It was more than gold he offered her, far more, it was strong legs for her to use to go beyond and see what else was out there for her in her quest to be loved by the very weave itself.
Charles
*Esme isn't sure why she would reveal such secrets to this man. Perhaps it is because she sees protentional. Not just in him, but in herself for an ever growing opportunity. Or maybe he reminds her of a fragment long lost to time. She cannot quite put a finger on the why aspect. She just knows it felt right to do.*

*Of course that is not to say she is going to blindly follow through with anything and as his boy-ish excitement shines brighter than any light in this room. A faint hush falls from her lips, a single finger put up against them as she continues with that same, unchanging and warm smile. Yet all the same she is so distant, like a star just out of reach. As her hands fall back down to her sides, the potion sell simply chuckles.*

"If you can past the tests of the grove, then I will concede to you and partake in your dream." 

*Her words are clearer than they have ever been before. Whereas she once spoke in circles, Esme is making it very apparent that she is at least willing to not only hear him out. But give him a chance, he need only to show follow through on his word. She lives around here, that is true. She also seldom visits the town, for she is nothing more than just a potion seller here. But outside? There are many plays that Esme partakes in, this is just a minor role he has caught her in. She walks side by side with him outside of the inn. People passing by the duo but none paying them any mind. As if they are alone, invisible to the eyes of many.*

"If you truly wish to prove your fate-less fate. Then test it there. If you believe fate that our paths have met, or lack thereof and by sheer luck. Then grasp it and meet me again within the heart of the woods. Look for the moon blossoms and if your intent is true... Then we will meet again."

*Suddenly, Esme waves a hand over her body. A few white feathers fall to the ground and a single song bird is seen flying off in a blink of an eye. Bright white and soft shades of rose pink. It produces a song yet no one pays it any mind, as if they cannot see it. Leaving Noctis behind, the songbird flies. To where?*

*Well the answers will lie within the grove. Look for the moon blossoms and and perhaps the twilight witch will reveal herself again.*