The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'-Chapter 476 - Mistaking Kindness For More, Creating Something From Nothing
Five cultivators of the ’household’ had settled for the night on the twenty-third evening of Yatrel’s arrival. Elua was so pleased with the essentially perfected ocular cultivator tool’s integration that, for once, she did not stay up late working on something she could control better than what she could not. Madrigil was nearly *always* asleep by midnight like he had an internal shut down timer. And Yatrel... well, she gave up going back to her room and just dozed off with her eldest drooling on her shoulder like she was her youngest!
But one of them did not remain so settled for long - and the knock came on Zonnel’s door eventually. The woman opened her door to find Nysoi standing in the hallway, hair bound on one side and dressed in a set of southern coastal pajamas. But the only details the healer cared about were the red rimmed lilac eyes and the once more strongly heartbroken spirit.
"I know it’s late, I just... can we talk?"
Zonnel immediately stepped aside wordlessly, gesturing her in and closing the door behind without any wariness. A single essence lamp lit the room with dimmable illumination. The *unspecific* guest quarters were comfortable and livable but not at all as spacious as the ones prepared for people the heiress actually wanted to enjoy their time in her Qat’s building.
The younger woman sat on the edge of the bed without any hesitation, hands clasped tightly in her lap while expecting she would be joined. But the older woman took to the floor to sit, sensing it was more appropriate to give her space. Both had thought that the Valmenf member was doing better, but something must have changed things. Emotional breakdowns or breakthroughs rarely kept proper diurnal work hours.
"Tonight, I can’t stop thinking about what Leysah said."
Words came out rough, like the reddish-blonde had been holding them back for hours. Because she had, laying while tossing and turning. She wasn’t sure what triggered it again after almost a week. But it was what drove her to seek the distance in the first place. Rather, Qatrand had made the offer and the shellshocked Clairvoyant simply didn’t care enough to bother looking ahead to the future to see if it was a good idea or not.
"You’ve been secretive about that. I know I’m known as a gossip, but I wouldn’t-"
"I know. That you wouldn’t make fun of me. Or tell others the really important things. Or anything like that. I know."
Hoarsely, Nysoi pleaded the other woman not to express how kind she was by declaring she already knew it. Being reminded of it by the person herself just made her want to flee the room she’d arrived at after walking step by step with her own two feet. She wanted to know what her previously... work-related friend would say. And she wasn’t in any state to meddle with Clairvoyance in order to test her words.
"I worked up the courage. To get a rejection. I knew she had a feeling all this time. However... Leysah told me I should stop hanging around her if I can’t let go. Like our friendship didn’t matter. Like I’m some... some pathetic burden she has had to tolerate and-"
"I don’t think that’s what she meant. She’s often too direct, but cruelty isn’t her. You know that, don’t you?"
"...It doesn’t matter."
Voice cracking, her palms rubbed at the puffy eyes that wouldn’t produce more tears. She hated revealing herself without first foreseeing what the ’negotiating partner’ had to say. But she couldn’t focus enough to rally her spirit. And she wasn’t sure it mattered anyway, since Zonnel in particular rarely said things all that different each time in the Clairvoyant sessions. It made her boring, in a way, but also-
"I knew it couldn’t happen, but I kept falling more and more. What if I never find someone? If the only people I ever feel this way about can never feel the same, and that’s just... it? Like all my chances for better results are used up?"
As an Empath, she could feel the glimpses of genuine ’fear’ underneath the dramatic hysterics of youth. Breathing out sadly, the older woman stood and moved to sit beside her patient on the bed. Close and present, but not touching the physical form of the churning ’desperation’.
"Nysoi. You’re only eighteen, almost nineteen. You haven’t used up anything. Cultivators live long lives, right? It’s not like we all have to find the right person for us in our first century even."
She couldn’t help but think of the Goltbred heiress and the mildly terrifying things - details that should be secrets or fever dreams at best - that she kept overhearing because it seemed like the brunette kept forgetting or did not care that she was sitting right there in the room when she broke into stories for Yatrel. Zonnel now knew about the reincarnation, a series of past marriages, and that Elua er Goltbred truly felt blessed to have been reborn and met the healer’s former strikeforce leader.
So she had a prime example that some things just took time!
"I understand that you’re hurting right now. That you can’t find an end to that. It makes everything feel permanent when it’s not. But listen to me. You’re intelligent, very capable, and exceedingly kind... when you’re not busy tying yourself in knots so much that you forget to wash your hair."
Feeling her quick braid pulled at made the younger girl tense up. Lowering her hands and looking at the older woman with something much too fragile in her expression. All the sincerity in her voice came to a height, right as those simple brown eyes gained so much depth... and there was so little width between them.
"Those qualities don’t disappear just because one person wasn’t right for you. And someone will see that."
The decision happened before any inhibiting thought could consciously interfere. Nysoi leaned in and pressed her lips against Zonnel’s, seeking comfort from the person who would say such things about her in the only way that made sense in that overwhelmed moment.
’What is... happening?’
For only a heartbeat, the healer had frozen in surprise - she had not seen it coming at all! Then that defenselessness that started with daring to share the room with the lonely merchant spread right to her Empath usage. Seeking to understand the emotions of why, touching on Nysoi’s spirit only created a feedback loop - the desperate need for connection, validation, and proof that another woman could want her surged back... and Zonnel felt it as if it were her own emotional need.
She kissed back and it made things ’worse’. When they finally broke apart, both were breathing unsteadily... but only the healer’s eyes were wide with confusion. And shaking pale lilacs were not as good at reading emotions as she was reading futures, so she entirely missed the glint in them. A feeling that might have been termed ’fascination’... or could have also been termed ’epiphany’.
"I... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that."
"Don’t apologize. It was nice."
"Huh?"
Running her curled pinky over her own lip, soft simple eyes almost looked sharp for an instant. But Nysoi was sure she imagined it. For the two more seconds before an index and thumb lifted her chin. And a hand that used to pet her hair in an almost mothering way - something she had never found enthralling at all - now stroked through her scalp with a bit more abandon.
"I said it was nice. Thank you."
Zonnel’s tone was quiet, but it felt like thunder to the Valmenf daughter. In the gentle, essence powered light... both stared at each other. Neither *quite* sure what had just shifted between them, but both absolutely unwilling to be the first to move away.
⟠ ⟠ ⟠
A mint eyed cultivator sat at the breakfast table with a cup of herbal tea, tracking Nysoi and Zonnel as they entered the dining area of the estate. Separately, but not *separately enough*, to the spiritualist’s gaze. At least they hadn’t been far from each other the night before, according to her sixth stage security sigils when she gave them a glance after waking. And the fifth stage ones, when that glance led to more curiosity.
Yatrel was also already seated, working through her morning meal of slightly better tasting tree goop with the cautious movements of someone whose neck hurt a bit from resting in the wrong position all night. And because her dearest, dearest daughter *still* tossed in her sleep at this age. An elbow blow to the jaw was not a pleasant way to be interrupted from a dream again at five in the morning.
"Good morning. I trust you both slept well in the individual rooms I provided?"
Speaking brightly, a young voice carried a ’sweetness’ that the mother knew meant the girl was about to be terrible. It might not have been the noblest thing, but she was just glad that she was not the target right now. Whatever barbs were coming from that tongue was either deserved or at least going to be comical... judging by the reactions of the other pair. The merchant wore a suspicious poker face and the healer looked down into her cup like it had the answer to the question written on its rim.
"The night was restful enough."
Smirking at the Clairvoyant, something she wasn’t sure she had done since her arrival, Elua leaned forward with lips pressed together so much they almost looked... puckered. It made the older teen want to use her abilities to figure out what she knew, even though she understood that meant she would get slammed with headaches or worse.
"Mm. How nice. You know, her spirit still has the edges of a resonance to it. I unfortunately spent my childhood seeing my father’s lust painted on this one here. Intriguing how that lingers longer with Empath types, isn’t it?"
Both fairly young women had gone very still. Meanwhile the one old enough to have a fifteen year old... tilted her head and shrugged. It might have embarrassed her some ten years ago - maybe even five years ago - but today? She only had one thing in mind to say.
"Do not call your parent ’this one’, dear. At least use a superlative."
"Oh, my apologies. I was trying to be intimidating and didn’t think you’d mind."
Elua set down her cup with gentleness. The lack of clattering was actually more disturbing to those who could *feel* that she was in a mood to potentially slam it down. As she continued, her voice remained just as bright as it started... even as a darker ache made itself known.
"It’s nice. Kissing, I mean. It must be nice, right? I miss getting them from my Qat. Tell me, my unrequested guests who are staying in my home for months..."
Repeating the term twice was meant to prove how much she knew of what went on. It certainly made Zonnel’s hand on the teacup in front of her shake. Or perhaps that was just the heiress leaning forward with the patient and predatory focus of someone who had been waiting for years for the age of physical intimacy, had a few ’nibbles’ worth to stave off the ’hunger’, and intended to wait longer still for the ’whole meal’.
"It was nice, right?"
The silence stretched until the Dame Goltbred coughed delicately into her hand, clearly fighting a proud smile as Elua sighed and pouted, sprawling on the table like she’d never learned any manners.
"Look - I’m not judging, I’m envious. There’s a difference. Do continue exploring whatever impulses feel good. Just remember whose roof you’re under, and that said roof’s creator has excellent spiritual sense, which you knew... and also more hidden contraptions than I think you realized."
