Reluctantly Allow Lyra to Proceed

The soft rolling of the waves beneath the floorboards is all that dares disrupt the silence as your mind races, spinning from the implications of Lyra’s request. The fear of being so **** makes it difficult to think of much else. You know yourself to be an honest sort and that these two have no reason to consider you hostile. You also know that this has been your best chance at making clear your path since the start of the madness. But to simply give in…

You twitch reflexively when you feel Arro’s smooth palm clasp your shoulder, so lost in thought were you that his approach went unnoticed. Meeting his gaze, still pained from the truth of Jona and her infection, there resides a warmth within the man that gives pause to your worry. His constant teasing aside, Arro has proven himself reliable time and time again. You find it hard to let those doubts creep back into the forefront with him at your side.

"I have… reservations…", you begin softly, eyes dropping to the floor. Another tense moment passes before a deep breath and a gentle squeeze from Arro prompts pushes you further. “I have no reason to lie, let alone mislead the people of Cove Crest.” You look past your Vaporeon friend to his stoic chieftain, her expression unflinching, as you continue. “That said… I understand your need for caution...” Looking back to the poor Oshawott girl softly dozing atop the bed, you add quietly, “...And the desire to protect those closest to you.” The Milotic woman’s features visibly relax upon hearing this. Knowing you’ve only one way to remove any suspicion as to your motives, you conclude your piece. “In the hopes of learning what we can from each other, I will respect your methods.”

The Vaporeon brightens a bit and gives your shoulder a shake. The Chieftains voice draws your attention, “Very well. I ask that you return to the common room.” Her focus turns to Arro, drawing his eyes from you. “Please make yourself comfortable, Kale. I have a few things to discuss with my pupil before I join you.” A few hesitations still plaguing your mind, you nod to your aquatic friend and leave through the beaded curtains. Not wanting to eavesdrop, you make your way to a comfortable looking spot on the kelp padded floor and settle in to await what was in store.

A few minutes pass, inaudible voices breaking up the soft drone of the waves below, before the rustling of beads draws your gaze to Lyra. “I have asked Arro to remain with Jona for the time being. Both to safeguard the poor girl…” She speaks with forbearance as she approaches and seats herself opposite you upon the cushions, “.. And to give us some privacy.” The indifference with which she delivers that last bit actually has you missing the constant stream of innuendo you’ve come to expect from the Vaporeon.

Seemingly sensing your apprehension, Lyra states, “This is for your benefit, Kale. It has been my experience that for this initial phase it is easier on the subject if any distractions are removed.” As she continues to explain how this will better help your focus, you struggle against the instincts nagging at your brain. In the end, however, any looming worries are silenced when you hear the words..

“Are you ready?”

Your quiet nod is bookended with those same glittering scales rising up just past Lyra’s shoulder.

"Then heed my call…

...and relinquish control."

Shedding what's left of your resistance, you allow your eyes to follow those dazzling jewels as they begin to wave back and forth in the sunlight. The rush of calm filling you is near instantaneous, a fuzzy warmth overwhelming the last vestiges of concern. You slump a bit as the feeling takes hold, the Milotic’s ‘ministrations’ causing your muscles to unwind. The sensation is not one of confusion or inebriation, you realize, rather a complete suppression of the worry you’ve carried for so long. It has been months since your last waking thought went untainted by the fear of the infected. It is a welcome reprieve…

…At least until the questions begin.

To her credit, Lyra does her best to ease you into the one-sided interview. She asks simple things like your favorite type of food or preferred weather conditions. Things are kept lighthearted for a while, mercifully giving you a chance to adapt to the wavy lines dancing about your periphery. It can’t last, however, and once your eyes begin to droop lazily and your speech adopts a soft monotone, her real queries emerge.

“Feeling a bit more relaxed, Kale?”

The haste with which you reply in the affirmative might have shocked you previously. So direct and bereft of ego is your statement that it’s almost foreign to your ears. Such a realization might have been cause for concern just moments ago, yet the fear never comes. There is nothing driving your responses, nothing exerting itself over your own decisions and denying your agency. It is not that you needed to answer Lyra’s questions, but simply that you wanted to.

“Why don’t we begin with how you came to find yourself in our midst…”

The next few minutes are surprisingly comforting as you relay what you’d told Arro about yourself to the Milotic. You speak of your time alone in the forests, of the skills both honed and freshly learned that have kept you fed and the infected hungry. Aside from the occasional prompting, Lyra quietly allows you to divulge. Thankfully, it would seem that some of the charm that won over Arro is present in your words as the stoic woman adopts a more casual tone with her inquiries as time goes on. The bit about startling the Vaporeon by crashing through his door even steals a slight grin from the Milotic. You’re starting to genuinely enjoy the conversation, spiraling shapes aside, and begin to wonder why you’d felt so hesitant in the first place.

You are abruptly reminded…

“And what of your time before setting out? Do you ever miss your place of birth, your friends or your family?”

There it was.

The feared point of contention that you, even in your hypnotically induced euphoria, had been silently wishing to avoid. You drowsily stare into Lyra’s deep red pools, the words having caught in your throat. It is impossible to deny the urge to lay bare all that which you’d hoped to forget yet you resist all the same. As the moments stretch onward, the smooth exchange of dialogue obviously interrupted, It doesn’t take long for the Milotic to address it.

“You hesitate?”

The words lack scorn or judgment, but they ring bitter in your ears all the same. More seconds pass, each one filling you with renewed shame for failing the kind woman. Despite this, your muzzle remains clamped tight, sheer stubbornness just barely winning out over the gentle insistence of cooperation. Lyra leans in and though realistically it is only a few inches, the village matron seems to be looming taller over you than usual.

“You’ve nothing to fear, Kale. I seek only to understand, not condemn…”

You are transfixed by those crimson eyes as the words pry at your opposition. Even the room seems turned against your struggle as you detect a faint darkening along the periphery of your vision. Whether a passing cloud has obscured the morning sun or some new tricks are at play, you can’t be certain, but whatever has happened only accentuates those gleaming orbs. Further ensnared, you can feel your will cracking. Memories of that terrible place, of a loveless pragmatism that denied you any real friends or relationships, bubble up from their long buried pit. Memories of your ‘family’, and of that monster Rahken have you shaking your head and fighting back tears.

But most of all…

You look to your hands, and the claws concealed within. Reflections of the day you became just like all the others **** your mind. Resolve crumbles as the guilt washes over you, **** to relive that moment, and you feel the words forming in your throat…

“Enough.”

The simple response breaks you free of your internal battle, all of the terrible recollections and doubts fading from your mind as that bewitching tail continues its swaying dance. Lyra offers a sympathetic shrug in reply to your puzzled expression.

“Whatever that was, it was not mine to take.”

And in that moment, you understood the breadth of Arro’s respect for this woman. Wound about her finger and completely helpless before her questioning, she saw your suffering and kindly offered you an out. This time, wetness does bead about your eyes as profound relief forces the gloom back into the recesses of your mind. A small nod of thanks is all you can give in return without breaking down entirely. Lyra gives you a moment to wipe your eyes and collect yourself before continuing.

“Some things must be given freely, and are not yet for my ears…” Lyra then sternly pivots to the beaded doorway and sharply adds, “Or for eavesdropping Vaporeon!”

Your attention is momentarily drawn in the direction of the door and to the figure failing to conceal itself behind the arch. Slowly the beads are parted by a cool blue handpaw and the aforementioned Vaporeron gingerly steps through. Arro stands there, head down, seemingly in regret for disobeying his village elder’s wishes. There is a brief silence before his head comes up and you are met by his: