Cynthia
*"Goodbye Mom."* *Noctis said as he threw the last dirt on her grave, the cold wind whipping at his exposed neck and ankles. His raven hair fluttered around his face, his silver eyes gazing at the grave which already had begun to gain a light blanket of snow. The sickness had slowly been taking her for the past year, that morning he'd woken to a sight that had not been unexpected but had hurt all the same. As he stood there at the very peak upon the tallest mountain of Forstead, he gazed out over the white and broken landscape- a deep sorrow sat upon his heart. Then as if the sun had broken out from behind the darkest clouds, a song rang out across the mountain peaks. It was strangely familiar, it made him feel safe, it made his heart ache for something he knew he'd never had.*

As her light illuminated the pit, she'd see the walls all covered with that same black substance, hissing and repulsing back from the light. There was something far below, rippling and dark. She grew closer and closer to it. 

*Suddenly Noctis was not twelve, but a man, gazing out at the songbird that flew overhead. What had her name been? Hair as pink as cherry blossoms, eyes that made him melt and a smile so radiant that it could rival the moon. The sun didn't fit, because you couldn't stare at the sun- but you could stare at her smile. Name... Name... Who was she? He reached his hand out but she was so far, too far. Suddenly there was crunching footsteps and he turned, Emi approached him with a smile on her face.* 

Further down now she dived, and as she did and put herself into her song, his voice would radiate out from the walls. 

**"There's still so much of you I need."** The walls whispered that he was just like the rest, think of his touch upon her face in the dark- he'd wanted to take her in the dark like everyone else. He was a demigod, he was beautiful, she was a witch and he'd only come through the haze to conquer. **"He's the protegee of The Conqueror. He will ruin you just lik

E his master ruined Aeterna."** She could turn away, cleanse this place, leave him to die. 

*Emi embraced him, whispering how sorry she was. Noctis` head felt fuzzy, he could let go and go back to what felt easy, have a lover, he could report back to Scipio. Thats where he was now, right? He nearly hugged her back when he heard that song again, faint but there. What had been her name? He'd wanted to see her smile.* 

As Esme entered the bottom of the pit, she'd see Noctis had fallen into a pool of the black blood and had crawled halfway out, he was laying still upon a bank of black rock.
Monte
*As she releases the pull of her wings to go into a glide, Esme shows little emotion in her bird eyes. She knew their 'relationship', if it can even be considered one, was purely transactional. Everyone she meets, it is an exchange. From petty thief, to she dare say a murderer, to a kind soul, Esme will treat all the same. No blood shall be spilled on her hands, not on her watch. Justice? It is not her place to invoke it nor is it her place to act as executioner either. She is vigilant, a healer and to be a true healer is one of the worlds hardest things. In mere seconds something can break. But it can take an eternity to fix what was destroyed. So where is the room in judgement in that?*

*The darkness begins to fall on deaf ears. Mortal emotions, she has them. But Esme has long abandoned selfish tendencies. Whatever the reason, betrayal or kindness... Esme cares very little for. She simply has one promise, there is no room for doubt in her eyes. He will be safe, Noctis will return. No one can ruin the Twilight Witch unless she indulges in her own demise on her own time.*

"You underestimate my willpower. Pity." *Esme thinks, almost pseudo-telepathically to the darkness.*

*Then she sees him and the songbird sings louder to drown out the whispers. Her feathers brighter than ever before and as she makes a dive towards the rock. It is not a witch with a comically large hat. It is not a potion but rather the same woman who danced on the lakeside. Except her attire is different. It is loose, white as it was before and elven. The blade clamoring to her side as her new robes hang off the shoulders, daring to fall off if not held up by golden clamps and chains. The base of the dress made out of the same white feathers as the songbird, though larger. Her eyes golden and her hair transforming a bright pinkish-white as it sprawls wide, like stars it sparks and sways like a slow moving river. Feathers drape from her shoulders like a cloak and the scent of rosemary covers the cavern.*

*Esme will fight this darkness and in doing so, she begins to pull Noctis out so that the rest of his body is out of the blackened pool. Esme takes a deep breath in and gently she cusps his cheeks. Pulling his head upon her lap as she leans down. Speaking an old elven chant of rebirth, to undo the wheels of fate... To call upon 'Will' to undo the 'Woe' of this event. A great flurry of of energy surrounds the two and the witch pulls herself closer to the man she carresses.*

"Stay with me... Noctis." *Her voice equally ethereal as her appearance. Her face drawing close, her soft lips just inches from his as she breathes in the light of life. Intending to cleanse him of the darkness by any means necessary.*
"They will not take you." *Her voice whispers like a sweet caress of a maiden who wakes beside you during summers eve. Her touch electrifying, sweet. So close to a kiss yet so far, like a dream that cannot be caught.*
Cynthia
"𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖒𝖘 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘, 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖔𝖓." 

The voice of Masculo had spoken to him once when he was on the doorstep of death, his father had come to him then and wrapped him in his armor. After that he'd been his fathers favorite, perhaps his only and he'd glimmered like the morning star in a war that should have ended all wars. When the blood of gods and men and beasts and all the races of Aeterna flowed so freely an ocean could have formed of it. 

Yet... He'd awoken in a strange new time and not heard even a whisper of his fathers voice. He had been abandoned by his family, his friends and so it felt, forsaken by time. Why not just stop? Give in and end the fighting, the struggles, the schemes. Perhaps he would know what happened to Scipio once he arrived upon the fields of death. He was tired, as if he'd been awake and thrashing all 2000 years he'd been asleep. So why then was there some part of him still clinging? 

*Shhhckkk.* The sting of the blade sliding into his gut as this ethereal Emi hugged him became a wildfire and as she faded into a glowing red mist- he gazed down at the dagger sticking from his stomach. All he had to do was fall, if his knees buckled now he'd fall over the cliff and it would be over. 

And the song came again, and he felt warmth brush across his lips and face. There was light billowing inside him- but the dagger wound was blocking it. Whispers swirled around him and he felt his knees tremble, strength fading from him as he watched that beautiful songbird flying so high above him. A name, a pretty name, familiar and yet not, a voice on the wind, in his dreams, a sensation of warmth and comfort and the scent of... Of *Rosemary*. Closing his eyes, he extended an arm out in this dream of his and hummed along with the song, picturing a woman dancing with cherry blossom hair, and he was her partner. Together they swept across the surface of a lake while her spiri

Ts watched and paraded past. 

This would be a nice memory to go on, if he could but remember her name. 

*Noctis' breaths became more ragged, slowing down as veins pushed against his skin and showed that they were slowly turning black. Yet perhaps the most peculiar thing she'd find is that he smiled as his death rattle began to emit and a word drifted from between lips that were turning blue.* 

"Esme.." 

That had been her name. He would have liked to ask her about flying again, about the song she sang and the sword she had, know why she wore such a firm mask- when she'd become a doll of a woman, why she'd made the promise. Valac, Sylvar, Esme... Scipio. So many unanswered questions. 

Time was almost at its end for him as he lay smiling in Esme's arms.
Monte
*Is it not enough? Esme starts to wonder as her palms pulse with magic. As the warmth surrounds them, her face twists as she now begins to over exert herself. No, this cannot be cleansed with a simple healing spell and for a moment, Esme is caught between crossroads. Does she stop this foolish endeavor now? The time of the old gods and their children are over. The dragons reigned and begun to come to their end, it is a new era and as Noctis has said before. There is no place for him here.*

*But the witch does no believe that. There is no such thing as a 'place' in life. You are either alive or dead, waiting to be carried off into the next realms of which your spirit shall roam. Just how many spirits did Esme walk side by side with? Guiding them across the lake, guiding friend, foe and those unfamiliar to her. She need not add to it, memories are eternal yet she does not wish for this one to end so swiftly. This was a job she should have taken for herself. How foolish she was to allow anyone to enter these woods.*

***You should have known better girl.*** *The female voice scorns, as if telling the same warning again.* ***But you make it out to be stubborn, let it be another lesson.***

"Stay with me..." *Esme continues to utter as she tries to breathe in the light of life again. But he is growing cold, oh so very cold.*
"Stay with me!" *She gets louder, making a third attempt and then she hears her name and Esme yells it out for every soul in these old woods to hear.*

*Chains that once tightened around her neck and wrist begin to rust over and as she pushes forwards, they snap completely. Emotion driven now, there is nothing truly holding back Esme's magic. For better or for worse, with there being no limit. She can bless him with as much raw energy as she can. Her fingers lightly curl around the underside of his chin to lift his head into a better position. Esme pulling back briefly as she takes a deep breath. The runes that once formed on her skin now transforming into constellations that burn into it.*

***What are you doing?!*** *The voice continues, enraged as she seems to somehow watch Esme give into foolish endeavors that she should not be doing.*

*Then Esme pushes forwards, this time connecting her lips with Noctis' to truly give him the kiss of life. Forbidden it is as she sends forth as much magical energy as she can. A witch of two hundred years cannot dare to rival the power and magic of the gods. But she has long teetered forbidden aspects of the weave that mortals should not have access to, and she dares to draw on it now. Using every ounce of her aura to produce enough radiant healing so that Noctis may live. Whatever it is that he is dreaming, whatever it is that he is seeing. His time is not now, he must wait to pass on.*

*A promise is meant to be kept, even if there will be due punishment for her actions. Esme will grow weakened, but it is a sacrifice worth making so long as a life is saved. She will recover in time, she always does. For she has the power to do so now whereas she did not in the past. Such mistakes will not be made again.*
Cynthia
**"If for no other reason I survive, I'll survive to ensure that you smile at the end of this."** As her lips met his own, the words he'd spoken to her rang through his mind and shattered the image of the dream. There in the dark of that tunnel she had spoken of flying and she- no, NO! She'd been speaking of love, of life, of everything he'd been chasing since the day he'd left those cold mountains behind. 

Suddenly he was in another dream, an ever expanding field of dandelions and that songbird was flying above him, not so high now, lower, lower. He ran, he ran so fast that the wind called for him to wait. His long legs in full stride, the grass fingers brushing his legs as his hand outstretched for the songbird. Cherry blossom hair and a dance that made the spirits hum with contentment, a potion maker who was dedicated to the balance of things, a witch who kept her home nice and ready for guests even when none ever showed up- a girl who slightly burnt her toast when she made it. She had never been a doll, she was a bird who had been clipping her own wings to make sure nothing hurt her nest, she wasn't just some scared person afraid to feel- she could feel more than he'd ever let himself and still kept a smile on her face. 

"I want..." He panted, sprinting after that songbird as her magic caused lights to begin to flicker into existence around the room. The wails, whispers and shrieks of the black blood tried to fight back against her but suddenly there came a song from a grass pipe from high above at the top of the pit. Bukka the Pukwudgie was there, playing the music of spring and from Esme's magic came a melody of her song, magic coeleescing together as the darkness tried to surge forward sensing the danger. The black pool, the source of the dark, bubbled and a figure began to rise from it. 

"I want to..." He shouted to the songbird that flew ever lower, his fingertips brushing at her wings. The figure rose higher and Bukka played longer, Esme's song reverber

Ated off the walls and the lights appeared like stars in the night against the black blood and still the figure reached for the witch even as its form was burned by her might. 

"I want to live! I want you to live and I want one of your smiles to be for me!" He admitted finally, and with the last of his effort he leapt up to touch the songbird. There was a sudden shift in the weave as Noctis' eyes fluttered open, amber, golden like the vision she'd had. Not a kiss of desire, not a kiss of lust or passion- he kissed her back in an utter and total defiance of the dark, of the chains he'd wrapped around himself- defiance that she could never give him the smile he wanted. It was a scream to the aether of the world, a strike against the fabrics of fate and a warcry against the will of the gods. His fingers curled against her cheek and the Armor of Masculo enveloped them both, mixing with the pure and raw magic she was putting into him- the divine and ancient light of a demigod and a witch of twilight seared the figure of the black blood and burned it away, the pool, the walls. The glow began to fade and all that was left was the song of spring, a song of the future, a song of what was to come, a song that played at twilight when the day had not yet end and still a new one was on the horizon. 

*Her name was Esme.* The black retreated from his veins and the color returned to his skin slowly as the moment came to its end.
Monte
*As the last bit of her healing magic is used, Esme's eyes squeeze shut as she can feel her body burn. Magic always takes a toll on it but magic use of this caliber expands past even her normal. One by one, the white fall from the dress, from her skin. Shedding themselves as Esme is too weakened to even keep such an ethereal form. This causes her to pull away after the kiss had been held for a few moments. Catching her body weight as she nearly falls to the side, slamming her palms into the ground to keep herself steady.*

*While Noctis lay in her lap she pants heavily, trying to catch her breath as she is both physically and magically drained. Is there regret? Absolutely not. In fact, Esme has enough spirit in her even now to bare small pointed fangs, scowling at the remnants of the great dark. She knows this battle is not over, if the being is still alive it will likely just retreat from now. But her priority is still the safety of Noctis. She will fret over the other later.*

*Yet there is a deep pain in her chest. Her gaze dances around, her hands trembling as she tries to keep herself calm. It isn't just from the mana exhaustion. Esme feels as though she has crossed lines that she shouldn't have. What scares her is not that she is weakened, but that this sensation is... Familiar. For a moment in time, as rare as it is, the witch feels helpless and she despises it. Her hand is just barely able to pull the blade closer to her as to keep from losing it.*

"You're going to live..." *Esme whispers as the air escapes her lungs as she remains panting, her head tilted back as her tired eyes look upwards. She isn't even aware on whether or not Noctis is conscious, what matters is that he is alive.*
Cynthia
"Well no thanks to you. Sitting around chasing smooches while I'm fighting off all the evil." He says in a raspy, exhausted voice. She looks terrible, beautiful, but the effect her magic had on her was severe. There was no doubt in his mind she'd not only saved his life, but banished this evil and made a severe sacrifice all at the same time. The gods themselves would marvel at the wonders this woman performed. His entire being was wracked with pain, an after effect of the very long fall, the battle with the creatures, the dark poison in his body and the use of his fathers avatar armor. He felt as if everything that he had in him was drained and yet, she'd done so much more. 

Struggling first to sit up, he'd then roll to his knees with a grunt of effort and then stagger to his feet. 

"Is the danger gone?" He asked, looking as if he were somehow both ready to fight and about to pass out. He wanted to thank her, to praise her, to worry- but already she was going through a lot. Something was in the air, she'd done something and the way she was sitting there. A pit of guilt formed in his stomach. He'd been weak and she'd been forced to save him. Now he truly owed her a life debt, one he doubted he could ever repay. 

"We don't have much time Esme." He says softly, and he activates his Enhancement. "I'll ask forgiveness later." He mumbles, and scoops her into his arms. Using the last dregs of his magical energy, he boosts his strength and leaps up, running along the wall and then jumping again twice until they were out of the pit. His mana reserves going quickly, he nodded at Bukka, both a thanks and a notice that they had to leave. The tunnels were rumbling, both from the force of the magic used and his strength which was not designed to be used in a small space like this one. Noctis carrying Esme and Bukka dashed down the tunnel until they reached the exit, the rooms trembling. 

"Can you crawl?" He asked her, his amber eyes fierce but it was evident he was running o
Monte
*Still attempting to catch her breath. Noctis' voice is like a ringing in the ears, muffled and easy to miss. When she brings her gaze to him finally, she forces a smile though weakened. Chasing smooches? Her lips part to say something, likely reject the notion in typical Esme fashion but she is too exhausted. Opting to just give a nod to his question as she swallows whatever she can as her throat has quickly gone dry.*

"Yes, it's gone for now..." *She weakly pushes out.*

*The girl then gasps as she is grabbed. Again, she looks as though she is to protest. But even she is running empty. Not only does the ringing persist but the mana exhaustion would have normally knocked out any witch. In fact, this was more common than not when the younglings of the coven were trying to grow into their wings. Days, weeks, girls would fall into a slumber with only a few lucky ones waking up.*

"You misunderstand... It was not a smooch- you were dying." *She finally catches up and says in a vain attempt to explain herself.*

*The light in her eyes are gone, her expression mute before grimacing in discomfort. Esme is much stronger than the average witch, so she doubts she will be out for long. In fact, she could have run herself. At least that is what Esme would like to think. How she would be able to get back up, she wonders, is a mystery that is best left unsolved. She couldn't turn into a bird even if she wanted to.*

"Yes, do not exhaust yourself further." *Esme promptly responds, now wiggling to get free.*
"We need to get back to the hut. Drink this..." *She says as she uncorks her healing potion and tries to hold it up for Noctis to take.*
Cynthia
Noctis ignores her explanation, though that crooked grin dances across his face for a moment, a few really. Still when they're back in the room, Bukka pushes himself into the hole and begins to crawl to lead the way and ensure nothing caved in. Noctis let's her wriggle in his arms a moment, despite his exhaustion his mastery of his own magic is second to no one, and his hold feels as strong as if he'd just woken from a rest. 

A facade of course, but he had some minutes left he allocated his 'stats' correctly. That used less mana. 

"Yeah, yeah." He mutters and tilts his head forward so she can give him a potion. Drinking it down, he sets her to her feet but doesn't let go of her hand, holding up the other potion he had on his belt. 

"You too, just in case. And then go!" He said, having uncorked his own and holding it towards her mouth as the room trembles from the collapse of tunnels down below.
Monte
*Esme does not hesitate to drink the potion the moment she is set down. Downing it in one fell swoop, she promptly casts the jar aside before crawling in the space. Noctis would have felt a pull as she tries to ensure they do not get separated. He will be the last out and at the rate of the cave in paired with the fact they are running out of time on the shrinking potion. They absolutely must get out, now.*

"Come on!" *She huffs, ignoring the dirt that now coats her as she uses the last remaining of her strength left to push on right behind Bukka.*

*The light first serves as a driving force for her to crawl. To see the sky, the trees, to hear the birds again. She has a duty to these woods and she must see them again. Not as a ant-sized witch, but as a sentinel of magic like she had been raised to be. With a final push, Esme is able to feel the slow fading warmth of the outside. The sun now setting and the sky turning different hues of purples and oranges. Yet again she must catch her breath. Falling to her knees as she coughs wildly, trying to clear her burning lungs of the troubles she just endured.*

*She then looks back over her shoulder, annoyed that she did not recieve answers. What was the darkness? How did it get here? Could it have come from the coven ruins? No... There is a darkness there but it's different, though likely equally dangerous. It matters not, it has been handled and that too will be a mystery for another day. Instead, she focuses on making sure Noctis is with her as it's the only thing she can do right now.*
Cynthia
Noctis scrambles out right behind her and a few moments later the tiny tunnel collapses behind them. Stumbling across the grass, Noctis let's out a high "Whoop!" Before spinning in a circle, putting his arms out and falling back into the soft earth when... **Pop**, expanding back to his original size, he crashes to the ground with a **OOF** That knocks the wind out of his lungs just as he lets go of his magic. Exhausted, he chuckles as if they'd just got done playing an intense game of tag, rather then having narrowly survived a deadly experience. 

"Not bad for a first quest together huh?" He asked Esme, staring up at the trees. Had he really thought he hated these woods? He'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life! 

"Ha! Hello trees! Hello sky, oh you magnificent fucking sky you. Oh and grass, I didn't forget you." He said, his fingers lazily stroking the grass which was already gaining back a fullness and life that it had lost thanks to the retreat of the dark poison and the use of Esmes incredible life magic.
Monte
"I suppose you could say that." *Esme responds, her voice monotone.*

*While Noctis has more so a minor burst of energy, at least a fake burst of energy. Esme is completely lethargic. As she lays flat on the ground looking up the sky. The slow moving clouds paired with the hushed shimmy of the tree leaves feel like a blur to her. It is as if she is floating, too tired to keep going but too exhausted to feel the comfort to drift. Not that she would dare to actually sleep in the wilds. But Esme isn't even able to mentally command herself to get up, at least not yet.*

*Her gaze isn't pulled from the sky. Her hair sprawled out, each strand woven between the grass. Contrasting the green to what mimics a sea bed of pink flowers. Her soft freckled face quite pale and her breathing extremely soft. Her thoughts adrift, unable to catch hold of any one particular thought. She hasn't even reflected on the 'revival' of Noctis. A kiss to share energy was just a means to an end for her. What bothers her the most, which is shown evidently on her face as her brow quirks at the sight, is the blade. Her arm moves towards it, her fingertips touching the flat end as Esme becomes a bit lost in her own world. The embrace she felt when she was holding it.*

"What was that?" *She whispers very quietly under her breath before turning her head to see Noctis still trying to regain himself as he shows gratitude to nature.*

*Esme knows she needs rest and as she grits her teeth, she is finally able to push herself up. Grabbing hold of the blade and using it as a partial crutch just to get herself standing. She releases a sigh, her shoulders slumped forward as her eyes become a bit sunken. Of course she smiles at Bukka to let him know that she is okay. For it is now time to reunite him with his tribe.*

"Are the two of you ready? Bukka, if you wish to walk ahead. You have no need to wait for us."
Cynthia
**"NONSENSE WITCH."** A voice booms and a sled comes around the corner of the trees. Fae word spread quickly, the roots told the bugs and the bugs told the birds as they ate them and so on, and the Pukwudgie had heard that they had been aided and that the witch would need aid in return. The sled was large enough for the two of them and was pulled by two wolves that had Pukwudgie sitting atop them with complex reigns to control them. 

**"My people will see you home. I will return to report, but Bukka see your magic Witch, Warrior. Bukka see what you did and tell all the Pukwudgie."** The scout bowed and placed a hand over his heart, Noctis gave a weak two fingered salute and the tiny man was gone into the brush. 

Noctis meanwhile hauled himself onto the sled and lay down again, closing his eyes. He too knew the kiss meant nothing to Esme, nothing but the consequences it wrought I her overuse of magic. It hurt again, but less so perhaps. Something had Esmes heart, maybe it was her, someone old, someone yet to be- it was not Noctis. Maybe she'd never love him, but he could still have one of her smiles for him, maybe for a service he'd accomplish for her or, maybe if he could help her with something she needed. 

For the first time since meeting her he felt content that she'd never see him as more than just Noctis, never linger her gaze on him in interest or want. Instead he chuckled and hummed her song, his eyes closed. 

"Hurry up Witch, your couch awaits me."
Monte
"A-ah... Of course."

*Seldom does Esme show it but their loud voice and flamboyant entrance isn't particularly appreciated. Not that she is going to say no to the escort, but they could have done so quietly. Practically hobbling over, she takes a seat on the sled and gives a close to her eyes. She has walked for much longer yet her feet are aflame. She groans in discomfort and while she would normally use her magic to just cure it. It isn't present and the first signs of Esme's moodiness can be seen. Once expressionless, now visibly annoyed. She pokes and prods at the soles of her feet, trying her best to massage and soothe them.*

"Yes and my bed awaits..."

*So he will stay another night. This is not a problem. What is, will be Sweet Tooth's inability to control the pitch of its voice. It screams and declares every word it speaks. It may be like a child and normally, that's what makes those spirits so great. But Esme is in no mood to put up with it and it causes her to pinch the bridge of her nose. It's going to be loud the second they get to her home, so she best mentally prepare herself now.*

"I can also send for your blade that you mentioned. It shan't be difficult to find." *She continues to mumble, more so pouting now.*
Cynthia
"Nah, I'll retrieve it from my companions. I'm gonna sleep, get my strength back and go. I'll send letters to let you know what cities I'm traveling to. You can move at your own pace, I'll be setting up a pigeon network so you can contact me virtually anywhere." He says, sighing as he runs a hand over his face. 

"I'll be out of your hair come morning. When I need a potion or you magic, I'll get a hold of you. Now, kindly, stop mumbling. Sweet Tooth will give me enough of a headache." He says, laying beside her on the sled and flicking her hand, before resting both of his own across his chest and letting his breathing get deep, not asleep but in a state of rest.
Monte
"Alright."

*Esme takes a moment to gaze over Noctis. She is quiet as she sits perplexed, not so just about him but about everything that happened. Her gaze then flickers down towards the sword. Reaching out, her fingertips trace the familiar initials of D.T., feeling the grooves on the hilt and trying her best to remember just how she got it. She remembers seeing the blade on her table, which at the time lacked a proper cover. She hated the feeling it gave her, the feeling of being alone. Not that she practiced with swords anyways so instead of mounting it on a wall like she had intended. It was cast away, hidden in its sheath to be forever concealed under various clothes and boxes.*

*Yet now she finds herself grateful that she not only had Noctis bring it along, but that she remembered that she had it. Though there is a deep pit in her chest and it hurts gravely. But why? As she rubs at her collarbone and throat, trying to remove the discomfort that forms which causes her throat to be dry again. She has no energy to reply to Noctis' witty remarks because for once, the witch is visibly bothered. But it is something that must be saved for later. Once Noctis departs, she will return to her usual duties and obligations. The sword? Maybe it deserves more than to be a closet comforter.*

"Good night." *Esme whispers, being extra quiet as to not disturb Noctis.*

*But does she sleep? No. The witch cannot. There is a gnawing feeling of tragedy that continues to surround her and not an ounce of light can be seen radiating off of her form. Lethargy is brutal but lonilness is killer. Pressing her thumb into her palms as she sits quietly on the sled. The witch has a brief moment of reflect that spans the generations but it does not last long. She suddenly shuts her eyes tightly, seeing the all vast darkness and swallowing down whatever these feelings are.*

*And then... She starts to smile, that typical Esme smile. Keeping it up for the world to see as they draw near the hut.*

***I am okay.***
Cynthia
As the hut came into view, Noctis voice finally broke the silence between them. 

"It's okay to hurt. It's your duty to hurt, sometimes. The people, the things we've lost- if we don't remember them, if we don't let their memory hurt and cause other emotions like joy, then why did they exist? It's our duty as the living to love and miss the dead." 

With those words he was up and he too was smiling, tugging at the platinum earring he wore. 

"Thank you my kind Pukwudgies. We've served each other well, I depart these woods in the morning but you all remain in my heart." Bowing to them and hearing them holler things back in return, he turns and hobbles inside to sit back down, the act of even standing a terrible effort for him though he does his best to play it off well. 

She had a pretty smile, one that could be a dolls. She wasn't a doll though, she was a person, one that was alive and had more depth to her than any ocean trench, but she refused to dive. He couldn't 'fix' her, but he could always be there to encourage her to take another dive. 

He had a comforting thought as he sat down on the couch. 

**She's gonna be okay.**
Monte
*Esme does not get up right away. Instead her gaze flutters towards Noctis, watching him get up as he speaks. While it is hard to get a physical read on whether or not his words resonates. Sure, the witch has lost. She remembers each face crystal clear. Perhaps it is due to her magic that she has the ability to remember so clearly. Divination works wonders and would be in line with her ability to view into those memories as if she were there. Does she hurt for them? Maybe once, but not anymore.*

*She doesn't respond. Not out of malice or annoyance. It's just that Esme needs a small bit of time to think about. Does she hurt from the blade? Esme doesn't think so. But it is still gnawing at her, not knowing is what drives that frustration. Perhaps once Noctis departs she will have to take a trip to the ruins again. It's been years but Esme cannot avoid them forever. Plus there is a darkness that grows there and once every ten years she needs to suppress it. Otherwise not only the haze will grow out of control but so will the unseelie fae.*

"Back back!" *Sweet Tooth cheers as it promptly rushes towards Noctis. Climbing onto the couch and settling on his chest like a small child.*

*Stepping inside of the hut. She gives thanks to Bukka one more time as well as addressing the rest of the tribe. They should be safe now and should there be any further issues, then they know where to find her. Esme is kind enough to even bestow them a third star fruit. Kneeling down before them in respect before getting up and tidying up what she can. Snack cupboard? Mostly empty, but that's okay.*

"If you need anything Noctis, let me know." *Esme points to herself as she stands at the doorframe. With the sword leaned against her hip, she takes another look at it before turning around to put it away.*
"Rest easy."
Cynthia
"Savo 'lass a lalaith, Witch." Noctis responded, not turning to look at her. His mind would never let him forget her, and he'd see her again when it was time to... To make use of her. Transaction, transaction, transaction. He was hurt that so much of his words were either wrong or fell on ears that heard but did little to regard, but who knew her and her realm better than her? Certainly not he, who'd been asleep her entire life. 

*"Have joy and laughter."* Had been the phrase he'd spoken in Elvish, and it had been his goodbye. He stroked Sweet Tooth gently, spending the last few hours within these woods enjoy the presence of his newfound honored friend. Closing his amber eyes, he let himself drift instantly into a deep sleep, still full dressed and sitting upright. 

Having set a mental timer for a few hours, he let his body recover as best it could and decided he'd slip away in the night. Just another customer who's business had been completed. That was what she saw him as, that was what he'd be. Until the day came when he could earn just one of those smiles for himself.