ercookies | TDM 015: IT'S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PARADISE

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TDM 015: IT'S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PARADISE

00. Arrival

You come out of the water, the Nameless Island's own inherent energy drawing people in. It's like being suspended between realities and abruptly pushed from behind through a rift in dimensions. It may make you sick, or that might be the motion of the ocean, lifting you to the surface and carrying you to shore.

Waterlogged and covered in sand, new arrivals will be greeted by robots who welcome them with towels and bracelet devices. The A5 card is already loaded up. If you don’t manage to get away from them quickly enough, they may even usher you toward the Laid Bare Spa, where new arrivals will be offered free massages, a sauna, hairstyling, and their clothing may come up permanently missing. But you will be given a complimentary towel to leave with if needed!

Feel free to explore the Island, though there isn’t much to see beyond what arrivals before you have helped to rebuild. Most of the buildings are abandoned and in dire need of repair, and beyond the city lingers a thick fog that obscures much of the wilderness from view. Wander too far into this fog, and you will find yourself mysteriously looping back to where you began, your memories of what you were doing and how you got there erased.

With that in mind, it may be wise to stake your claim on a place to live in the now, whether a rundown apartment in the City, a tent on the beach, a bed in the barracks, or your own space at the House of Worship. Your inventory will be found a day later, wrapped up haphazardly and delivered to each person's makeshift home.

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I. Beach Episode

Welcome to your beautiful and sunny island paradise, Erku! ...wait, it's sunny? That's right! For about two weeks, the Island will enjoy unusually warm and clear weather, just perfect for enjoying the cool waters of the beach. Don't swim out too far, however, lest you stray into hazardous choppy waters or get lost in the fog that still lingers beyond the peaceful cove. Just stay close, and you're golden! Once again, friendly robots have erected beachside food stalls for grilling fish and crabs, and encourage any enterprising Islanders to help hawk foods for credits.

If gutting and cleaning fish isn't your forte, however, never fear. The robots are recruiting for a very important task! You see, they have very thoughtfully set up swimming and snorkeling lessons for any Islanders who are doubting their skills at staying afloat, or who just want to have some fun in the waves. There is only one complication: the robots are too heavy to swim.

Enter, you! Earn credits by instructing your fellow Islanders in the marvels of the ocean. Not just swimming and snorkeling, but also fishing, clam digging, and sand castle art - among other things - are valuable skills you can sell.

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II. Sand Sport

For the more competitive sort, the robots of Erku are happy to share a bit of culture from the planet's ancient past: wet sand wrestling! Volunteers (or any innocent Islander roped off the beach by an enthusiastic 'bot) don their skimpiest swimwear and duke it out for dominance in the wet sand by trying to throw their opponent outside of a ring. Knock-outs count as an automatic lose, so be careful! Oh, and no worries if you aren't particularly strong. Before the match, competitors are offered a a special drink - simply named "The Creamy" - an ancient recipe which is said to temporarily increase your strength and vitality. One shot of this, and anyone could take on Goliath! (And not just in a fight.)

By the way… those who lose the competition are mysteriously compelled to accompany the victor for the day, waiting on them hand and foot, anticipating and fulfilling their needs before they are spoken. Did the 'bots forget to mention that?

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III. Graciously Given Gifts

While swimming in the nude is completely acceptable on the Island, the robots know that many residents still (for some reason) value their modesty. That is why they are happy to encourage beachside revelry and communion by making sure scanty swimwear is readily available to Islanders who are in need of something to cover up with - while still showing off your assets, of course. Islanders may purchase for themselves, but they are especially encouraged to gift swimwear to their fellow Islanders... in fact, any swimwear to be given as a gift is free! Not only is it a lovely gesture to let a friend or lover know you appreciate their body, but also, swimwear received as a gift is said to be very good luck in wet sand wrestling competitions.

Naturally, the robots are sensitive to the emotional needs of their organic charges, and thus they wouldn't want any new, recent, or less personable arrivals to the Island to feel left out for not receiving gifts. That's why some Islanders will find surprise swimsuits in pretty gift wrap sitting on their literal or metaphorical doorstep… addressed with love from a random Islander! With thoughtfully written messages included, of course, usually complimenting the recipient's figure in graphic and/or poetic terms.

If you have any manners, surely you'll find these mystery admirers and thank them for the lovely gift! (If you're really a person of culture, maybe you'll even show it off for them.)

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N A V I G A T I O N

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Covered. Presumably moving from shade into open sun, and also presumably being healed occasionally as a front-line fighter." The archers were usually alright, but the soldiers on the front-line needed constant support, as did the other mages.

"So noted." Linhardt doesn't want to return to Fodlan, but he doesn't care if other people do. He's aware his feelings on the war are unconventional.

'You don't know how to send people back yet?'

Linhardt bristles.

"Well, what's your idea then? It's not nonsense just because you aren't capable of understanding it."

Call him evil, lazy, or irresponsible all you want, but don't suggest that Linhardt is stupid.

"There are multiple versions of Fodlan. The war seems to have happened in everybody's Fodlan, but the events and people present differ. By comparing everybody's Fodlans, we might be able to isolate some of the variables to allow for targeted teleportation home."

Although the idea of just experimentally warping Felix billions of miles is becoming more and more appealing.

Felix wasn't actually trying to suggest that Linhardt was stupid, but with his attitude who would ever know the difference? It's dismay that hits him, though, when Linhardt says they don't know how. How long might he be stuck here?

"I don't have an idea. I've just never heard of anything like what you said."

His frown deepens the more Linhardt explains. "All right," he agrees slowly, finally. "What are the different versions you've heard of so far?"

Linhardt certainly doesn't, and he's not going to bother considering what Felix was trying to say. Felix was a jerk about it, Linhardt reacted, they move on. (Very similar to how it is when Linhardt is the one being a jerk about things or being told to go away).

"Myself, Edelgard, Ferdinand, and Dorothea all seem to share a Fodlan, though I can't confirm with 100% accuracy. In our Fodlan, Professor Byleth chose to lead the Black Eagles and backed Lady Edelgard. I believe that there is also at least one Fodlan in which the Professor assisted Faerghus after leading the Blue Lions. And one in which they chose to side with the Alliance. That's Seteth's Fodlan."

So certain decisions might be turning points. The Professor's decision seems to be one. If only they could test that somehow.

"Also judging on what I've learned, if we are in the same universe as Fodlan, we're at least..."

Linhardt pulls a small tablet out of his bag, making sure to move carefully enough and show Felix the bag. See? No weapons. Just papers and research materials. He does a few quick calculations.

"A Septillion kilometers from Fodlan."

Hence his crankiness when Felix's first reaction was to get snarky that Linhardt hasn't solved the issue yet.

Fortunately, Felix cares about Linhardt's opinion of him about as much as Linhardt cares about his, which is to say, not much at all. So moving on is easy!

He blinks. Byleth backing Edelgard? That sounds completely ridiculous, but so does everything else he's heard today, and as far as he knows Linhardt has no reason to lie about that. And Seteth is from a Fodlan in which Byleth helped Claude. What implications does that have for the war itself? Felix can hardly imagine.

Linhardt, please, have mercy on this poor Faerghan jock, he doesn't even know what a universe is. He narrows his eyes with slight suspicion at this display of what's in the bag, but at least his sword still stays where it is.

He gives Linhardt a blank look. "I take it that's...far." He shakes his head. "Where I come from, the Professor is with us. Faerghus. Last moon we retook Fhirdiad. Then we marched to Derdriu to help Claude keep you people from conquering Leicester."

Oh, dear Goddess.

'Yes, Felix, it's far.' Linhardt thinks, although he resists the urge to say that it's a good thing Felix is a swordsman and not an archer since he's apparently terrible at math.

"It's approximately 20 orders of magnitude larger than the circumference of our planet." So even Linhardt is out of his element here. He's intelligent, but no amount of intelligence can make trying to suddenly jump half a millennium's advancements easy.

"We conquered the Alliance because if we hadn't, the deadlock would have produced greater casualties than not." That decision, Linhardt will take some responsibility for because he and his parents were the ones pointing out the strain that warfare put on an Empire's affairs. There are resource limitations and strain on the citizenry. Ending the war with all the nobles speared by peasant pitchforks isn't in any nation's interest.

"Interesting that both Fodlans ended up in a similar situation despite the Professor having chosen differently. I wonder if Leicester fought us both off in those Fodlans."

Felix didn't even know their planet was round, so Linhardt is doing just fine by his standards!

But he puts all that nonsense out of his mind to focus on the important part: the war. He sneers. "So that's your excuse? Violent conquest to save lives? In case you don't recall, the Empire started this war in the first place. You don't get to march a bloody path across the continent and then paint yourselves as some kind of magnanimous saviors for it."

He scoffs. "And no, I doubt they fought us both off, because we wouldn't be invading them."

You know, unless Dimitri's plowing across the battlefield in a mindless rage with no care to who's friend or foe. But that's all in the past now. Hopefully.

Edited 2021-07-20 17:58 (UTC)

"Oh yes, because I'm sure you planned to withdraw afterwards." Be realistic, Felix. Whether you called it an invasion or not, what are the odds that Leicester is going to remain independent in Felix's Fodlan?

"I cannot control that Edelgard started the war. I even believe it was a poor decision." He's not Hubert: Linhardt isn't going to defend Edelgard's actions. He has no particular loyalty to her, his decisions were pragmatic in nature, "What was in my power was convincing her that if the war didn't end in a timely manner, all of Fodlan would collapse eventually."

"I'd wager I kill fewer people than you. At least I don't enjoy it." Now it's Linhardt's turn to sneer. Of course Felix doesn't see an issue with the status quo, he's probably excited when the Church told him to kill people.

Faerghans. Are they even capable of questioning and thinking for themselves? It's like a nation of Huberts.

"Why wouldn't we withdraw?" Felix legitimately doesn't have an answer. Just because their fathers annexed part of Sreng and destroyed Duscur, doesn't mean Felix or Dimitri plans to do any such thing. The opposite, actually!

"Not that it matters. Claude and the Roundtable disbanded the Alliance anyway and handed it over to Dimitri on a platter before Claude left the continent."

So not all of Edelgard's lackeys are on board with the war, huh? That's interesting. He might have said something about it, but...

Felix's eyes narrow and he snarls. "Don't you dare pretend you have any idea what I fight for." I'm not the boar. "I don't enjoy killing. It's a necessary consequence of battle when your only other choices are surrender or die. Not that I'd expect a pampered, spoiled brat like you to understand that."

The arrogance of these Adrestians, believing themselves to be above it all when their blood runs the same color as everyone else's when they die like dogs on the battlefield. Despicable.

Huh. That must have been an interesting conversation.

"Then we were invading Faerghus in your Fodlan." If you take, or accept responsibility, for territory, you have to hold it. That's why they had to go deal with Almyra after taking Leicester, "If that weren't the case, I'd expect you to hold it simply because Leicester itself is divided and if you didn't, there's no guarantee that a pro-Adrestian noble wouldn't end up in charge given that their power structure changes more easily than Faerghus's or Adrestia's."

Linhardt stands his ground, crossing his arms over his pale chest, unimpressed, though his eyes narrow slightly. 'Pampered, spoiled brat' is something he would expect (and even possibly lend some credence to) from someone like Leonie, but from Felix? He just snorts.

"And what choices do you imagine I had? 'I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but I fundamentally oppose violent action so I'm recommending our territory declare neutrality and withhold our resources?' I considered it. It would have started a civil war. Or maybe I could have run to Dimitri. He seemed like a such a trusting, stable sort: I'm sure my showing up out of the blue with soldiers and information would have been accepted immediately."

If Felix doesn't want Linhardt to be sarcastic, he should consider being less stupid.

"You already invaded Faerghus. At the very beginning." He scoffs, both smug and disgusted in equal measure. "You had to replace the court mage with one of your grotesque shapeshifters and declare Dimitri dead to do it. But Fraldarius and Gautier never surrendered. And now that Dimitri's returned, we've ousted you from the capital. We're taking Faerghus back."

"I couldn't care less about civil war in Adrestia. If you all killed each other, that would have saved the rest of us the task." Though the fact that Linhardt did consider such a protest is...something, he supposes.

...and then yet again the mage sweeps any potential positive thought out of his head. He has half a mind to run Linhardt through, magical island or not. As the king's right hand (however grudging), Felix is well within his rights to defend him from such slander. (Even if it's true.)

He doesn't draw his weapon, though, because it's not worth the effort.

But his hand balls into a fist and for a moment, he forgets that his whole body feels like it was baked in an oven, turning fully too quickly to face Linhardt and glare daggers.

"Leave him out of this. Don't act like you had no choice. You always have a choice. You chose to stay and use your magic to support not just Edelgard and your comrades, but the likes of Kronya and Solon. And Cornelia. Go ahead, offer excuses for helping the people behind what happened at Remire Village. Captain Jeralt's murder. Miklan Gautier. None of them will change what your allies have done, you rotten bastard."

"That's true, it's hard to fight a war if your enemy all kills each other." He doesn't mind that Felix is unconcerned about war in Adrestia. Linhardt couldn't care less what happens to the people trying to eke out a living in Fraldarius territory.

Linhardt's hand snakes out of its own volition and slaps Felix clear across the face. He's as shocked as anyone, judging by how he blinks and looks at his hand (and shakes it, he's not used to hitting people and it hurts). But he doesn't regret it. When he speaks, his voice is calm but furious.

"My cousin is one of the people they murdered and replaced. That thing-"

Because he's not calling Kronya a woman. She doesn't deserve the designation, "Wore her skin and voice to commit murder after killing her and leaving her to rot. How dare you suggest I approve of that, or what transpired at Remire? Had you ever been to Remire? Because I had."

"They're not my allies. If Edelgard supported them, I would have made sure she died myself." As her healer, Linhardt is one of a very small group of people with access to the Emperor's person with minimal oversight.

"They got their hands into the powers behind Fodlan before any of us were even born. The reason our Fodlans are all so similar are that they set up matters so there were limited options as to how it could play out."

"And let's not pretend your allies are clean. The things Seiros has done are disgusting, or is crippling a continent's progress fine because it doesn't upset Sylvain?"

It's an angry guess. Cornelia had been last and clearly Felix detests her the most. So if Miklan was last, he's the one Felix is actually upset about.

Felix is so taken aback that the pain of being slapped while his face is sunburnt to hell doesn't even register at first. He doesn't think he's ever seen Linhardt even get angry at all, much less voluntarily hit someone. All he can really do at first is stare while Linhardt rants.

No, Felix had never been to Remire until he was called upon to attack innocent civilians in the throes of some horrible dark magic that made them try to kill each other. If Linhardt thinks that alone wasn't enough to scar him for life, he's wrong.

Some of what the mage says makes sense. Dimitri's already told them everything he discovered about the conspiracy behind the Tragedy of Duscur, and Cornelia (or whoever replaced her) was clear about his stepmother being involved. Arundel wasn't subtle about his taunting, either.

But other things make no sense at all.

"...ow" is Felix's first response to any of that, as the sting finally gets persistent enough that he notices it. He brings a hand up to his face, but that doesn't even help; touching it only makes it worse. He's never going out into the sun again.

"Huh, I'm impressed. I didn't think you had enough strength in those spindly arms of yours to even take a swing." Strangely, this might be the most cordial thing Felix has said to Linhardt since he sat down; he's not mocking, he's legitimately and pleasantly surprised. Go figure.

But then he narrows his eyes. "You can't possibly claim Edelgard doesn't support them with a straight face. Cornelia took Fhirdiad in your Emperor's name. It was the Hresvelg banner flying over the palace while that monster was in it. If you really didn't know that, maybe you should start thinking seriously about those assassination plans of yours."

The jab about Seiros just gets him blinking, though. Felix doesn't even have any evidence that what happened with Miklan had anything to do with those shapeshifters at all, but he assumes it did, considering everything else they've done. And it isn't the thing that upsets him most, nor why he hated Cornelia, but he's not about to talk about Dimitri again in this conversation.

"What are you talking about? What does Seiros have to do with Sylvain? Or anything else?"

Edited 2021-07-20 22:02 (UTC)

He bristles, ready to start another rant, when Felix shows the one thing that could make Linhardt stop and reconsider: Confusion.

Goddess, hasn't he been there? Felix knows even less than he had before arriving on Erku and putting his information together with Seteth's. Felix is more like his seven year old self running through gilded halls in Enbarr: Able to understand that what he's seeing and hearing means something, but not sure what, and not able to ask.

All the anger drains out of the mage and he silently lifts a hand and summons some magic to deal with both the slap and Felix's sunburn. It's not a severe injury, it takes barely any thought to heal it.

"Caspar has always insisted I know how to take care of myself. Events unfolded differently in my Fodlan: Cornelia did not take Fhirdiad, she was in Ariarnrod. We specifically went there in order to attack her forces. I assure you that if my Edelgard were enthusiastically participating in their crimes rather than planning on disposing of them at the first opportunity, I would not support her."

As for the rest... Linhardt rubs his forehead. Where does he even begin?

"There's a lot. Do you really want to know everything? I believe I have a fairly complete picture at this juncture."

The sudden healing surprises Felix; he didn't even notice that he'd started to become used to the constant discomfort and sting until it's abruptly gone. Oh, maybe this explains why Linhardt isn't red at all. Huh. He shifts into a position that's more comfortable now that he doesn't have to sit very carefully anymore.

To his credit, Felix's temper dies down quickly, too. People often say he's angry all the time, but he isn't (at least, not nowadays); it's just that when he expresses other strong emotions, they tend to come out looking like anger, too. He gives Linhardt a nod in thanks.

At the question, he frowns. "I doubt I need to know everything. Just the important parts."

That won't do. Linhardt can't decide what's important: He doesn't know Felix well enough to know what the other man would find important. Everything it is then. He stands silently under the umbrella for a few moments, gathering his thoughts and sifting through them to decide how to proceed.

"First, I should share my information sources with you. Then you can judge what I tell you. My sources are a combination of Adrestian historical record, professional knowledge, and talks with Seteth. To begin with, Rhea is Saint Seiros and Seteth is Saint Cichol. Flayn is Saint Cethleann. So I trust his recollection of history since it's a first-hand account. As for my contribution, my family maintains the Adrestian archives which contain information on the Empire's internal affairs as well as the oldest and most complete information that was never subject to Church oversight as all the documents have been in our possession since Adrestia's founding."

There. That is a satisfactory preamble.

"I suppose we should begin with the fact that the War of Heroes is a lie, as is the origin of Crests. Well, yours anyway."

Linhardt sounds slightly apologetic. He's seen how Lorenz has reacted to what he's about to tell Felix, and he can't pretend to understand. His Crest is a sign of an affection between the Saints and his ancestor.

"The 10 Heroes fought against Seiros, with Nemesis. The Sword of the Creator is made from Sothis's remains, and the other Relics are the remains of her children. That's also where your Crest comes from."

Felix is not a big-picture sort of person. When something gets too far out of scope for him, he stops caring about it. So some of this--how the War of Heroes really went, the origins of relics and Crests--doesn't really have much of an effect on him. Surprising? Sure. Revelations? Sort of, he supposes. Relevant to Felix's life? No, not really.

Some of it, though...

"Wait. Stop. What do you mean, Seteth is Saint Cichol and Flayn is Cethleann? How is that possible? You're saying they and Rhea are a thousand years old?"

(No, Felix, they're older than that.)

His brow furrows. "The relics are the remains of other Children of the Goddess? Including the Crest stones?" Because wow, the Lance of Ruin is the creepiest thing he's ever seen in his life, and that would explain a lot. "And what do you mean, that's where my Crest comes from? Why not yours--oh. It's Cethleann. So...your Crest came from Flayn? And mine came from, what, some dead saint?"

Wait...

"Wait a minute, Sothis is Seteth's mother?"

Dear Sothis. This is why people exhaust him. Linhardt can't even pretend to be able to follow Felix's train of thought. And the questions are the worst part of things like this: They're things he has to answer spontaneously and not in an organized fashion. Ugh. Stripping things of context.

"More. I don't know their precise age, but I'd wager at least three or four thousand. Except for Flayn: I'm not entirely sure how old she is."

"Yes, including the Crest stones. Crest stones are the hearts of the dead." There's not really a nice way to put that, so Linhardt defaults to clinical language, "Yes. The Saints' Crests were gifts to allies of the Goddess. I'm not sure how they were given to us, though. There are also other Crests: One of the Heroes was turned into a Beast and erased from Church history." But not from the Adrestian archive, which is how Linhardt had figured out about Marianne.

"Your Crest was given to your ancestor by Solon's group after they slaughtered the rest of Sothis's children. They killed them and turned their bodies into Relics and Crests. Yes, Sothis is Seteth's mother, as well as Rhea's. And Indech's, but he doesn't speak to anyone."

'Oh yes, by the way, I also know where Saint Indech is and went to go see him.'

"...huh. No wonder Seteth gives such good advice. And no wonder Flayn is so weird."

Felix takes a moment to process this information about Crests and Crest stones, but it's the part about the slaughter that catches his attention. It makes a lot of other pieces fall into place that he didn't even really notice were out of place before. Like why Seteth is so protective of Flayn. And why Solon's group keeps trying to kill Byleth. But it makes some things make less sense.

"Isn't Sothis Flayn's mother, as well? She's Seteth's sister." Isn't she?

"I don't understand. If the Ten Elites were Rhea's enemies who killed most of her family and usurped their power to make weapons" --and by 'weapons' he means both the relics and the Crests themselves-- "why would the Church create a society where their descendants are in power?"

Felix tries not to think too hard yet about the fact that the monsters he so despises were responsible for his Crest. Responsible for Sylvain's Crest, and all the bullshit his family put him through over it. Mercedes, Ingrid, Dimitri...so many of his friends have suffered because of their Crests, products of murdered saints and stolen blood.

"...hmph. Unless it was a punishment. Our society isn't exactly kind or fair to anyone, noble or commoner. Or Rhea wanted us as cannon fodder against the inevitable return of Solon's people. But still, I don't see why Seteth and Flayn are so...nice to us."

Seteth can't secretly hate him, isn't grooming him for death against the shapeshifters' blades to protect his family...right?

"Does he? I argue with it most of the time." Linhardt's eyes sparkle slightly, he can't help it. He does agree that Seteth is a good conversationalist once he warms up to you. That Felix agrees suggests Seteth likes him. That's good.

"Flayn is actually Seteth's daughter. They pretend she's his sister as part of the subterfuge. So Sothis is her grandmother." Which is why he'd unnerved Flayn so back in the academy, Linhardt supposes.

Linhardt raises an eyebrow at the supposition that Rhea essentially farmed them as cannon fodder. Even he hadn't jumped to that pessimistic a conclusion and he'd been about to aid in her murder back in Fodlan.

"I don't pretend to know about Rhea's reasoning and I think you should ask Flayn and Seteth about theirs directly. I can say that the decisions weren't uncontested: Macuil and Indech live but withdrew from human affairs. They believe we can't be trusted."

"So do I. But he usually turns out to be right in the end." If he picked up on any humor in what Linhardt said, he doesn't show it. But it does make him wonder--since when is Linhardt on such good terms with the Archbishop's right hand? They had to have been enemies in the Fodlan Linhardt comes from, right? There's no way Seteth would turn on his own sister. Hmm.

"Huh. So she isn't really a 'Child of the Goddess' after all." Not that it makes much difference.

"Flayn is here as well? It's a shame I didn't see her earlier. She would have enjoyed the fruit slicing, I'm sure." Strange as she is, Flayn has a lot of wise things to say, just like her br--her father. Felix just had to cut through a pile of frivolous chores to find it. ...literally.

"I'll ask them, then. But what do you mean, human affairs? Are the saints not human?" They look human enough to him...

"Sometimes." He waves a hand in the air to indicate that sometimes he thinks Seteth is correct. Fundamentally, he and Seteth disagree on many issues but they realize that a.) those issues aren't of any practical concern in Erku and b.) they're the only ones who understand those issues enough to disagree on them. There's a camaraderie in that.

"A grandchild, technically. Interesting to consider Sothis as a grandmother. It doesn't really seem to suit her." At least based on his understanding.

Now it's Linhardt's turn to give Felix a blank look. Fruit slicing? Then again, he hadn't talked to Flayn since leaving the academy and in his Fodlan, she's dead. So there's that.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. Really, Felix. They're literally the children of a Goddess and thousands of years old. How would they be human? Sylvain must be the brains of that duo; Linhardt never talked with either of them much.

"They're not. Rhea and Seteth are dragons. Indech is more like a turtle? I have drawings from after we found him if you'd like to look. But they can change forms to look like us. Please be delicate if you raise this matter with Seteth: It's a source of emotion for him. Be clear it doesn't matter."

Does it? Hopefully not.

"Tch. Who knows what suits any of them at this point, when apparently nothing we've ever been told about any of them is true." Felix shrugs. He's never been a particularly religious person, so this doesn't really horrify him or anything. But it's annoying to have to second-guess things that were drilled into his head his whole life.

At the blank look, Felix rolls his eyes. "Flayn likes to throw things at me to chop up in midair. I don't know why. But it did lead to some enlightening conversation, so I suppose it wasn't a complete waste of time. Anyway, the automata refused to give me any food until I taught a bunch of obnoxious strangers how to slice watermelon with a sword."

Listen, they could just have been very long-lived humans! Felix didn't know he knew anyone who wasn't human, give him a break. Little does Linhardt know that he's absolutely right about Sylvain being the brains between them in most things, but that's only because Sylvain is a hell of a lot smarter than he lets anyone give him credit for, the idiot.

"Dragons? Seteth's a dragon?" Felix blinks. He's only ever seen one dragon, and thought there was ever only one. And wasn't entirely convinced the Immaculate One was ever real to begin with, until they saw it in person at the battle of Garreg Mach. ...oh, that was probably--

"So the Immaculate One is Rhea? It can't be Seteth, he was elsewhere on the field when that dragon showed up to decimate your forces." There's no smug or contentious tone, here, just a factual statement--that's what happened. "I'd think Seteth would have used that kind of power once the war had dragged on long enough, though. Is Flayn a dragon as well?"

Then he gives Linhardt a funny look. Felix doesn't know him well at all, but he's never heard anything that made him think the mage was someone who would give half a shit about being delicate with someone's feelings. Hell, Linhardt's one of the few people Felix respects specifically for never bothering to coddle anyone or hold back what he thinks. Huh.

"Ah. Yes. That. I've...always known that the Church embellished certain things." He just wasn't allowed to go around shouting about it, for obvious reasons. 'Hello, everyone, look at the cache of unapproved history(tm) we're keeping over here!' Don't taunt the Church of Seiros, Linhardt.

Even if they deserve it.

"That's kind of them to introduce you to island life so gently." Linhardt sounds more amused by the food story than anything else. Given his experiences on Erku, he is.

"Yes, the Immaculate One is Rhea who is Saint Seiros. Seteth has a dragon's form, but until very recently an old injury prevented him from accessing it. I'm not entirely sure about Flayn." He isn't close enough to her to ask. Most of his conversations with Flayn have been fairly awkward, actually: Even when she'd been alive in his Fodlan, his primary interest in her had been discovering her secret and now he just... knows. So he's not sure what to say to her.

'Embellished' is certainly one word for 'completely rewrite history as basically the opposite of what happened and just so happen to set yourself up as both leader and figure of worship of the religion that has a chokehold on society and enforces a Crest system that screws over basically everyone.'

...okay, so maybe Felix understands some of Edelgard's motivations. That doesn't explain why someone like Seteth would go along with it, though...ugh.

Felix arches a brow. "Kind? If you say so." He's not even going to begin to mention the other notable introduction he had, in the sand wrestling ring.

"I'm surprised you haven't asked her, considering everything else you appear to know. That's an important tactical detail to just overlook. So Seteth has a dragon's form...was his injury healed here on the island?"

Well, he hadn't known in that level of detail to be fair.

"There are a number of rather disturbing things about this island: Being forced to perform work, while annoying, is pleasant in comparison." It's all relative.

Linhardt shakes his head. Felix has misunderstood.

"We did not share information for tactical reasons. It's fairly obvious that if we go home we'll be stripped of our memories. If we're not, what I've learned from Seteth is the least of what I could use for change in my Fodlan."

The jump in technology and scientific understanding alone would immediately put Adrestia nearly on par with the Agarthans.

Linhardt flushes slightly. He knows how Seteth 'earned' his 'healing'.

"Yes, it was."

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bestswordmaster - 2021-07-24 05:13 (UTC) - Expand

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