[x] ...resigned and philosophical. This is ultimately what war is like; although you've never experienced it before, deep down inside, you probably always knew that this has always been a very real possibility. The Tenereians did what all soldiers do during wartime.
[x] ...angry and vengeful. Maybe you and your friends are actually military targets, but the Tenereians clearly did not care whether innocent people were caught up in all this. This attack on Faulkren drives your hatred against the enemy like you never thought possible.
You are peripherally aware of one of your instructors making the rounds around the Great Hall, stopping to talk to apprentices and your guests from town. She eventually reaches your squad, looking at the four of you huddled in your seats. "Hey," she says, not without a hint of gentleness in her tone, "if you're done eating and drinking here, go get washed and get some rest." Her grimace has a sympathetic edge to it. "You'll need it."
As reluctant as you are about getting up from where you are seated with your squad, you can definitely understand where your instructor is coming from. You've barely gotten any sleep since last night, and the fatigue from all the fighting has seeped into your bones. You and your clothes are still stained with blood, and you haven't cleaned off the sweat and grime from combat. Now that you really think about it, after you've had food and drink, there's little more that you'd like to do than to plop into your bed and hibernate over the next few months.
But a bath is definitely preferable first.
You and Stephanie rise from your seats, but it's apparent that Elizabeth has fallen asleep, her head resting in her arms on the table. You suppose that's not really surprising; the elven mage has always fostered an impression of being constantly sleepy when she isn't wreaking one form of havoc or another. Noting this, Sieglinde says softly, "I'll take her back to her room first. You two go on ahead."
You suppose it'd be relatively easy for the tall, strong Sieglinde to carry the tiny Elizabeth back to her room, at least. Either way, you and Stephanie blearily nod and wordlessly make your way out of the Great Hall and towards the bathhouse. You feel mostly dead, or perhaps just mostly undead; your brain works with all the efficiency of mush. You only barely register the people around you and the sounds of crying, and your path to the bathhouse feels more like habit subconsciously kicking in than any real effort on your part. In fact, the journey seems simultaneously too long and too short; it feels like it takes up too much time, but you're here before you even realize it.
Rounding the corner to the bathhouse, you spot an aseri instructor coming towards you from the other side. You and Stephanie tiredly offer your greetings while your instructor nods in response as you come upon each other almost directly in front of the doors to the bathhouse. "Some of the girls have probably died in the baths," she tells the two of you, languidly cocking a thumb over her shoulder back inside. Then, a moment later, she seems to swiftly regret her word choice - people have actually died last night - and hurriedly amends, "I mean, they've probably fallen asleep in there. Wake them up and tell them to go sleep in their rooms."
Indeed, by the time the two of you step out of your clothes and into the baths, you spot an entire squad dozing off in the water. Amazingly, none of them have slipped under yet, although you'd hope that they'd wake up if that happened. Thankfully, you and Stephanie rouse them from sleep, and pry them from their baths by informing them of the instructor's wishes. Similar to the two of you, they shamble lifelessly to the shelves, shamble lifelessly into their clothes, and shamble lifelessly out of the bathhouse. Preferably back to their rooms. You hope they make it, as opposed to collapsing in a hallway. Or the courtyard.
But easing into the baths feels like the most indulgent feeling in the world, as you dip your blood-stained skin and sore muscles into the water. You slide into the bath with a contented - or perhaps just exhausted - sigh, barely registering the fact that Stephanie is doing the same in an adjacent bath. Your relative weightlessness in the water is a blessing, considering that even with your dryad strength, you have been hauling a buster sword with you for hours since last night with little rest.
And, for a while, all seems right. The warmth of the water is just enough to allow you to relax, to almost float in the bath. Your mind in a tired haze, you barely wonder whether or not you will be plagued by a nightmare of last night. Instead, you don't really fall asleep so much as slip into a shallow level of semi-consciousness. And in the place of the nightmares you expected, you instead have a subconscious daydream - barely a dream - of being tackled by a pack of tiny, affectionate direwolf cubs with lots of play-biting and rapidly-wagging tails.
You are struggling to push a particularly adventurous cub away when, suddenly, it looks at you and asks in a soft voice, "Are you still awake?"
Then you realize, of course, that isn't the imaginary cub at all; Stephanie is speaking up from the adjacent bath in a tired voice, her words barely echoing in the enclosed chamber. "Y-Yes," you reply, although that's admittedly just reflexively; you aren't really even awake enough to feel particularly embarrassed about this. It takes you a few more moments to really register the fact that Stephanie is talking to you.
"Are you okay?"
You think for a moment, but the wheels in your head are still barely able to gain traction in the sludge that is your brain. "Are you?" you ask in turn.
Although you can't see her, judging by the pause that follows, you assume Stephanie is thinking this over. "I'm..." she finally allows after a moment, "...alright. I guess."
"I guess I-I am too," you answer softly. You're so tired, you're not even stuttering properly right now, and some of your words almost come out in a bit of a slur. "Th-Thanks for saving me from the direwolf."
"Thanks for having a giant club as a weapon."
"I-It's a buster sword," you insist, although it's difficult to be strident about it when you're melting in the bath.
"That swing was something to see," notes the aseri. Even in her exhaustion, there's a hint of good humor in her tone. "The one where you split a direwolf in half."
"I...d-didn't think too much about it. It just s-seemed right...I-I guess." Then, after a moment, you decide to divert the topic away from yourself, pointing out one of the elephants in the room: "You were really fast."
Stephanie seems to brush it off quickly. "Dryads have their strength, aseris have our speed."
"You're s-so much better than me."
Even in her fatigue, the aseri's words sound dry and deadpan. "I will remind you that you've had three direwolf kills to your name."
"One. Th-The first two didn't count."
"Yes, they did."
"They did. And I shared my kill with Lady Ravenhill."
"Mm," you mumble. The warmth of the water makes you sleepy. "You d-did a lot more than that."
Stephanie sighs, "Just accept a compliment already. Don't make me go over there and wash you."
Despite the resurfacing memories of Stephanie helping you wash with your fractured arm after the Roldharen field exercise, you only feel mildly embarrassed through all the exhaustion. Not that it stops you from stuttering just a little harder. "Y-Y-You've already done that before," you insist.
"Mm," intones Stephanie, as if she too is too tired to think of anything witty to say in response.
You give things a moment before continuing on your previous tangent: "You were n-never that fast when we sparred."
Stephanie seems to hesitate for a moment before answering, "I...was a little bit more desperate last night than when we sparred."
"You were t-taking it easy on me."
Again, another moment of hesitation from the aseri. "We both knew I was more experienced," she eventually allows cautiously, "given my...family. I didn't want to rub it in your face."
"You're always so c-considerate."
"Mm," you drowsily murmur in the affirmative.
For a few minutes, it seems like the two of you have exhausted your will to talk. Or, perhaps more accurately, you're too exhausted to continue talking. And so you continue to bask in the warm water, drifting off in a manner not unlike the apprentices that you yourself have shooed from the baths when you first came in. The imaginary direwolf puppies are coming back to lick your face, and all you can think of lazily is that the next apprentice who comes in better not try to rouse you and Stephanie from your current comfortable predicament.
But then Stephanie whispers, just loud enough for you to hear: "I didn't really think it'd be like this. I mean..." she draws a long breath, goes silent for a moment, then clarifies, "...I've always known about the atrocities that would happen in war. But this...this is something else."
"Wh-What do you mean?" you ask. You're trying to figure out whether you're simply asking her for clarification or if you're too sleepy to really parse what she's saying.
"I've always heard from others about the barbarity of war." You can tell from tone alone that there's a grimace on Stephanie's face. "And I guess I was prepared to see the fighting, the bloodshed, the...deaths." This time, the aseri sighs deeply. "I guess I just didn't expect...this." Then, with more agitation in her voice, "Who sends assassins all the way out here, far from the frontlines, to kill...us? People who live here? The people who cook our food and wash our clothes? We're not even in the war yet."
"B-But we're preparing for it," you point out, even though your heart isn't into it. It's like explaining something academically to an instructor. "Even c-conscripts in training are fair targets."
The sound of water rippling on the other side suggests that Stepahnie has turned her head slightly towards you. "Should they be?" There's a hint of frustration in her tone.
The conversation taking a turn for the serious forces some lucidity out of you, and you give her words a bit more thought before acknowledging, "I don't th-think it matters. I think we're a-acceptable targets. And even if the s-staff at the academy aren't, even if the t-townspeople aren't, this has not ch-changed how wars have been fought for as long as a-anyone can remember."
Stephanie seems to think about this for a moment. Then, perhaps a bit begrudgingly: "You've been reading too much."
"I-It's true, though," you murmur. On another day, you may have reacted to Stephanie's dig at you being influenced by Sieglinde, something she's been doing since you've picked up more books to read. Right now, though, you just feel drained, and not just in a physical sense. "Tenereia has done so b-before. So has Ornthalia." Thinking of all the war history assignments you've done, you add quietly, "Even our Caldran mercenaries have d-done so in the past, when hired."
"And you're just...alright with that?" she asks. "You're alright with this?"
"I-I don't think it has anything to do with wh-whether or not I'm alright with it. It just...is. There's n-nothing girls like us can do anything about."
There is a moment's pause before Stephanie gives a big sigh, her tone almost resigned. "I guess I just didn't think you were going to view this so...philosophically," she mutters. "That you're so calm about this." She pauses before quickly adding, "I mean, I guess I'm calm as well, but..."
Stephanie trails off, and perhaps the conversation would've ended there. But a longer moment passes before you speak, and the coldness of your voice and in your heart surprises even you, were you in any mood to actually think about it. "I-I'm not calm, Stephanie," you say flatly. "I'm f-f-furious."
Stephanie turns towards you, stunned. "Neianne...?" she whispers, confused. This is not a side of you she's seen before. This is not a side of you that you have seen before.
But you keep going anyways, the rage building in your chest. "Th-They killed D-Dorothy. They k-killed Lani. They killed Sophie and Lison a-and..." the words are getting all tied up on your tongue, and you have to take a moment to calm down and even try to master your stuttering, exacerbated by your fury. "Th-They used d-direwolves, and th-they knew i-innocent people would die, b-but they didn't c-care, b-because..." you trail off again, although this time because something's caught in your throat rather than on your tongue. If you were less tired, maybe you'd be shaking with anger. "I kn-know it's supposed to be normal, b-but...I-I didn't think it was p-possible to h-hate someone this much."
"Good," comes an angelic, singsong voice from the entrance to the bathhouse, and both you and Stephanie whirl around despite your fatigue to spot the source of this familiar voice. "Remember this feeling."
"Zabanya?" Stephanie blinks, surprised, sitting up where she is in the bath. Somehow, Elizabeth's presence alone makes the two of you much more awake and alarmed than you were just a moment before. She isn't alone either; Sieglinde is walking in next to her with a towel, looking mostly impassive but perhaps also just mildly exasperated. "I thought you were sleeping."
"I was sleeping, unlike the rest of you," says Elizabeth with a smile, which of course only serves to make you and Stephanie a bit more wary. "Now I've woken up."
"Immediately after I got you to bed, too," Sieglinde adds; her tone suggests that this is as close as she gets to a sigh most of the time.
"Before you managed to do anything funny to me," Elizabeth quips in response, even as she steps into a bath nearest to the entrance, just a bit away from you and Stephanie, basking in the water with a look of self-content.
If it was from anyone else but Sieglinde, you'd imagine a rolling of eyes. "I'm your roommate," she notes as she, too, steps into a bath in between all of you. She's less expressive, but at least the elven lancer seems a little bit more relaxed in here.
Turning the discussion back on topic, Stephanie presses her lips together before muttering, "I don't think it necessary to encourage Neianne to harbor a grudge." There is a sense of deep unhappiness in her statement, which makes you think this isn't just about Elizabeth's influence on you.
But the tiny elf raises an eyebrow at her and snorts, "Who said anything about a grudge?"
The aseri frowns. "You just told her to remember her anger."
"Yes, anger. That's different from grudges. Grudges are for children. Anger is a conviction. Or at least a fuel for it. It's an entirely reasonable reaction for someone who wants change, who doesn't want to be tread underfoot. It's something to remind her why she's even here."
Narrowing her eyes at Elizabeth, Sieglinde's voice is chillingly flat and level even for her. "I suspect this is one thing she won't need to learn from you."
The elven mage smiles, but there's something deeply unsettling about it, even moreso than her usual smiles. "And I suppose you are a shining example to learn from?"
"There are other, perhaps healthier emotional reactions."
"Maybe. But it's not hers." Elizabeth tilts her head lazily to the side by a few scant degrees. There is suddenly something altogether imperious about that gesture of hers, a cold vibe she doesn't often give off. "And who are you to tell Neianne she can't be angry and use that to tell herself that she needs to get better? Or do you just want her to be a soulless bitch like you?"
Both you and Stephanie tense as Sieglinde lazily turns towards Elizabeth. Surprisingly, her expression has gone entirely neutral, her voice completely level, but somehow this is more terrifying than when there was a chill in her voice just a moment before. "Are those fighting words?" she asks.
"I don't know," Elizabeth chimes. Even when she's being threatening, her smiles are sweet, but there's something false there this time. "Are they? Or did they just hit a little too close to home?"
There is a tension in between Sieglinde and Elizabeth that you've never witnessed before. The two have traded barbs often, but there was always a kind of levity to it, like two friends bickering, even if "friends" seems too generous a term to describe the two. You sense nothing of the sort right now, and feel like there is genuine animosity in the air. A fight between Sieglinde and Elizabeth right now in the baths would not only be terrifying, but it would be horribly inappropriate.
So courtesy of your dryad strength, bathwater from across the aisle manages to splash on the faces of both Sieglinde and Elizabeth. But mostly Elizabeth.
"No fighting," you insist. And there must've been a look of genuine upset on your face, because both elves look at least mildly surprised. "Not after last night."
For someone who got splashed in the face in the baths, Elizabeth doesn't seem particularly bothered as she smiles serenely - almost genuinely serenely - and shrugs. "I wasn't looking for one," she says. To the side, even Sieglinde seems to settle down, tense shoulders relaxing as the charged moment passes. Then, looking directly at you, Elizabeth adds, "Anyways, I'm not overly worried about you. You're not Aster, after all, for all you two sound alike." Her statement confuses you - what is this about Melanie? - but before you can ask any question in that regard, the elven mage has already turned to Stephanie, and her smile twists into something a little bit more wicked as she remarks, "Besides, we have our own aseri on the squad, and it turns out you're a lot more skilled than you let on, Fluffy and Mysterious."
Again, Stephanie seems surprised that she's suddenly the topic of conversation, but she's quick to reply, "Was I? I thought I was just desperate."
Elizabeth laughs. "Well, if you're lying, at least you have a good poker face." She smirks again. "Do try looking a bit more confused, though. That always helps."
Rolling her eyes and giving a small sigh, Stephanie mutters, "And I suppose you're not too bothered by Tenereians coming into our academy and trying to murder everyone in sight."
"It's not murder if it's a war," Elizabeth sings sweetly.
One of Stephanie's fuzzy black ears twitches once almost imperceptibly. "I thought so."
But Elizabeth's look becomes a bit less whimsical. "I'm quite serious. What did you expect them to do, hm? Wait until we grow up into real Caldran mercenaries so we can smash their faces in?" Her smile is a little wry, and a little...something else. Not angry or upset, certainly, but for the first time, it occurs to you that maybe being woken up in the middle of the night by girl-eating direwolves is not exactly a pleasant experience even for Elizabeth, no matter how much fun she had frying Squirrels with lightning. It occurs to you that the two elven members of your squad may have been agitated by the events of last night - may still be agitated - and that they were displaying uncharacteristically short tempers and frayed nerves. There's a modicum of effort to her air of amusement that normally isn't there. "Did you even care that armies all over Iuryis have done this up until now?"
Stephanie narrows her eyes and her ear twitches more irritably this time, but she doesn't have anything to say in return, which only makes you feel all the more insecure. Why do you feel about this the way you do, and now? It's not as if you were particularly bothered when the subject came up in your classes over the history of warfare. Is this another symptom of - as Elizabeth put it - your selfishness? That it was all well and good until the Squirrels did this to you?
But if you expected Elizabeth to look smug about this, she at least laughs in what you suspect is meant to be a good-natured gesture. "Don't feel too bad about it," she smiles. "This tragedy belongs to you. The anger is yours, as it is Neianne's."
"I'm not angry," Stephanie protests in a frustrated voice. "I just didn't want it to be like this." She grimaces, quiets down for a moment. "I'm not naive. I just thought maybe it'd be different this time. That all this talk about how we're all of the Treiden people meant something."
Elizabeth makes what sounds like a mix between a giggle and a snort, and you wonder if she does think your roommate is naive. If she does, however, she doesn't say anything about it, and instead chooses to sigh contentedly in her bath, sinking just a little deeper into the water.
The bathhouse is quiet again save for the rippling of water. And it takes a little bit longer for you to ask the one person who has talked the least thus far: "A-Are you alright, Sieglinde?"
There is a long, awkward pause immediately after this question, and you wonder if the elven lancer has fallen asleep. It takes a bit, but eventually she answers, "I am, insofar as I can be." The moment of quiet that follows gives you a chance to think about whether or not this is actually true, but you don't really have much time to ponder upon this before she continues, "Why ask?"
"Um, you're just...q-quiet."
"Perhaps I have little to say."
"...Oh." There doesn't seem to be much else to say after that.
A soft laugh comes from Stephanie's bath. "It's hard to get a word in edgewise when Lady Zabanya is talking," she points out, turning towards Elizabeth almost warily to see how she reacts to this. But what she sees stuns her. "Wait, is she asleep?"
Sure enough, the tiny form of Lady Elizabeth lazes in her tub, arms folded against the edge, head resting on her arms, golden hair floating in the water around her like a halo. Someone with less experience with her may have even called the resulting effect "innocent".
"Yes," Sieglinde confirms, a little unnecessarily.
"I thought she said she just woke up," the aseri mutters in mild disbelief, shaking her head almost as if in complaint. "How does she fall asleep so quickly?"
Ignoring the commentary on Elizabeth for now, Sieglinde turns to both of you and notes, "It's fortunate that your first kills are direwolves. Killing people feels...different."
Stephanie cocks her head slightly to the side. "You sound like you're talking from experience."
Hesitantly, you quietly speak up, "I...k-killed someone. Last night." A pause, as the two squadmates who are actually awake turn to look at you in varying degrees of surprise, which makes you swiftly insist, "A-Accidentally."
"Accidentally?" Stephanie asks, with a hint of incredulity in her voice touched with a spot of concern.
"They f-filled with hallway with smoke to escape, and I was t-trying to protect myself by swinging my sword, a-and...I hit someone." You shrug a little helplessly. "Accidentally."
Sieglinde seems to process this story for a moment before simply intoning, "Ah."
"Are you alright?" asks Stephanie, reaching across the bath to touch your shoulder.
"I-I think so," you answer quickly enough.
Your roommate's shoulders seem to relax for a moment. Then they tense up again before she hesitantly asks, "That...'someone' was a Squirrel, right?"
You are just barely awake enough for your eyes to widen in horror; this conversation would be going very differently if you had killed someone else. "Y-Y-Yes!"
Again Stephanie slumps in relief. A moment passes before she asks, "Any...difficult, complicated feelings?"
"Not...really. I...w-wasn't happy about it. I mean, I had k-killed someone. It's hard to feel happy about that. B-But...I-I guess I was..." you purse your lips, take a deep breath, pause again to consider how to best word your statement. At the very least, you're being honest about this; your feelings with regards to your first kill is far less complicated than the episode last night in general. Eventually, you allow, "I guess I r-realized I could defeat a real soldier with my strength, even if it was by a-accident."
Nodding in the way seemingly only she can nod - a relaxingly calm affair - Sieglinde replies, "I'm glad you processed it well."
"Th-Thank you," you murmur, even though it feels like the statement of gratitude is a little awkwardly misplaced. Then, after another long quiet moment, you ask Sieglinde, "Are you a-alright?"
It actually takes a moment for the elven lancer to suddenly realize you're addressing her, not Stephanie. And it takes another moment for her to visibly think about her answer. Eventually, however, she replies, "Yes. Thank you for asking." And by all indications, she's genuine about it. Not that you're sure you can tell anymore; it's not like you could read Sieglinde's stony face when Lucille vented at her. But then you think of the unusual friction between your two elven squadmates just minutes ago, and you can't help but wonder if Sieglinde's lying.
"No awkward feelings?" Stephanie asks, sounding mostly amused but also with a touch of concern. Sitting up a little straighter in her bath, her fingers begin to stroke her black silky tail in the bathwater.
"Not that I'm aware of. It would've been surprising if the Tenereians had not launched a similar attack. That they targeted Faulkren instead of Alvimere is what surprises me. But I suppose their mission was always to attack something deep behind enemy lines."
The aseri makes a face. "I see where Neianne is getting some of her answers," she mutters.
"I'm just r-reading more," you pout, trying not to be too embarrassed about it.
Sighing, Stephanie looks between the two of you for a moment before finally muttering to Sieglinde, "So you're not bothered either."
The tall elf shrugs. "I believe things are as they are. And until such a time I am able to change them, there is little we can do but confront reality as it is presented." Yet when Stephanie expels a small sigh from her hungs, Sieglinde seems to consider the matter a little more before answering, "But if you are bothered, then I suspect your first moral instinct was correct, regardless of how you compartmentalize those emotions later on. That brutality is our line of business does not mean it should be tolerated as the first resort, nor that..." she trails off, thinks a little more, then gives the tiniest of exhales, almost as if she is sighing. "What I mean to say is that you can understand what happened last night as a perceived military necessity while also always remaining certain that it should be wrong, if that is what you believe at heart."
Your aseri roommate seems to accept this as an answer, although she looks like she still remains deep in thought. It takes a while longer for her to ask Sieglinde, "What do you believe at heart?"
Looking almost surprised that she's being addressed again, Sieglinde gives the question some thought. Or perhaps she is simply deciding how to express herself. Finally, she answers, "There are two ways of looking at the world: As it is, and as it should be. I believe the person who says you can but choose one or the other to be a fool."
"So..." you work up the courage to ask, since the topic is still recent, "...d-do you think it's alright for me to be a-angry?"
"I suppose I also believe anger to be a reasonable reaction, and I do not think it my place to take it away from you, whatever else Zabanya says. But I find it ultimately self-destructive, one that clouds your judgment and does more harm to you than it does your enemies. I have no use for anger."
"What about grudges?" asks Stephanie, although her tone suggests that it's less a serious question and more a light attempt at gentle ribbing.
Of course, Sieglinde answers it seriously anyways. "Taken too far, and it's merely anger, or something indistinguishable from such. But I suppose it's...a possible way to remember who is friend and who is foe. Although perhaps that alone would not qualify it for a grudge." But if you were wondering whether or not Sieglinde missed the fact that Stephanie was just trying to tease her a bit, any doubt is dispelled when the tiniest of tired smiles forms on the elf's pale lips. "Now, are you quite done comparing me with Zabanya?"
Stephanie in turn gives a tiny smirk and titter. "I'm done."
The bonding moment shared among your squad finally settles down, even though one of your members has already fallen asleep. It's certainly tempting even as the four of you ease yourself into the warm, comforting waters, satisfied with this moment of respite after a dangerously long night. No one is happy with the outcome, but - if nothing else - it does feel like all of you are closer, a truly daunting feat, given the personalities involved: A relatively stoic aseri, an even more stoic elf, and a frankly unsettling mage.
This moment of camaraderie, of the lowering of barriers amongst seemingly untouchable personalities, admittedly puts you in an inquisitive mood. You have questions you want to ask, proverbial elephants in the room. Such as what Stephanie did to set her training katana and wakizashi aflame when the two of you were alone in the corridor with a direwolf and Lani's corpse. You know for a certainty that Stephanie has not trained in fire magecraft since arriving at Faulkren, nor have you ever seen any hint of any such proficiency from her. You are certain that she saved your life at the very beginning with her mysterious abilities, though, and the curiosity is real, even though Stephanie's body language at the time of the attack seemed to suggest that it's not something she wants to talk about. Or maybe it's just not something she wanted to talk about under the circumstances then.
It isn't just Stephanie whose actions last night draws your attention either. Or perhaps in Sieglinde's case, it's really more of a lack of action. You can't forget how Lucille looked at Sieglinde beseechingly when the apprentices began to gather in the corridors of the West Wing, slowly realizing that they were under attack. You weren't certain then, but it seems so obvious now - now that Lucille berated Sieglinde in that hoarse, broken voice - that the former was trying to get the latter to take command. Yet Sieglinde didn't, and events unfolded as they did. Perhaps Sieglinde would've been better suited for command - Lucille certainly seemed to think so - but that she did not makes you wonder why. Why she did not take up the responsibility even during a night of life and death.
And perhaps there are other questions you'd like to ask as well. Perhaps now is the best time to ask. You have a hard time imagining any of your squadmates being as open and unguarded with their inner thoughts and emotions after this moment.
[x] Ask Stephanie about her mysterious abilities.
[x] Do not ask Stephanie about her mysterious abilities.
[x] Ask Sieglinde why she did not take command last night.
[x] Do not ask Sieglinde why she did not take command last night.
[x] You should just let everyone relax, yourself included.