Chapter Text
Dusk has arrived, blanketing the land in softened shadows. Weak sunrays still shine on the horizon, like light seeping out from under a closed doorway. Owls, hidden in sporadic shrubbery, call to one another as the first stars begin to appear, winking in the darkening azure sky.
They say that a goddess lives upon one of those stars. Though perhaps she no longer does.
In an unassuming part of the quiet countryside is an equally unassuming cottage. From the outside, it appears abandoned—the windows are cracked and the walls are covered in overgrown ivy and moss. And yet, tucked away on the far side of the sunken roof, behind the rusted chimney, is the form of a young woman.
Despite her precarious circumstances, she appears quite comfortable. Her legs are tucked up against her chest, bare feet cool against the splitting shingles. Resting atop her knees is a well-worn book, and she eagerly reads its contents.
This is her favorite time of day. There are few small comforts to be found in this world, in this way of life, but feeling the evening breeze ruffling her sandy hair, filling her lungs with its sweetness, helps remind her that not all is lost.
Although there are many who feel differently, and are not so fortunate.
Flip.
The book’s wrinkled pages turn at her command.
Flip.
There was once a time of relative peace and stability, when joint powers ruled the land. Books like these are proof of that. A kingdom, an alliance… But now there is just the empire. Everything is the empire. Past, present, future.
That’s what the emperor would have everyone believe. But the real past is preserved in the written words of those who walked before. What remains of them, at least–records from the old world are incredibly difficult to come by.
To learn of the way things were prior to her time…that’s the main reason why she likes to read so much. If the dates she’s encountered are to be believed, the empire gained full control when she was very young, perhaps around two. Now she’s nearly twenty-two, with almost no memories of that time. Not even of her birth parents.
Tonight’s perusing comes courtesy of a tome entitled Fódlan Folktales; an old name for the continent she inhabits. While its official title hasn’t changed, almost no one refers to the region as ‘Fódlan’ anymore. It is now known as Adrestia in its entirety, instead of merely just its southern section. The Adrestian Empire…
She traces her finger across the faded text on the page. What was it like to live during those bygone days? How many knights served the kingdom’s royal family? What size was the room where the alliance held their roundtable conferences?
Flip.
And what was it like to be a follower of the Church of Seiros?
Flip.
All these unanswered questions, collected together like her own vaunted treasure hoard. If only she could convince the others to tell her more, now that she’s older. Why do they insist on leaving me in the dark…?
“Clara! Thought I’d find you up here.”
Her train of thought is halted by a gruff voice to her left. Speak of the devil. A grizzled man’s head has popped out of the trapdoor nestled in the roofing.
“Hello Balthus,” she says without looking up from her book.
“Your old man is lookin’ for you.” Balthus pauses when she doesn’t respond. “You still readin’ those ol’ things?”
She casually flicks to the next page. “We can learn a lot from reading. You should try it sometime.”
A good-natured snort. “How many times do I gotta tell ya? We’re livin’ in the present, kid. No use dwellin’ on the past at this point. Only thing it’ll do is make you long for things outta your reach.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she responds. “You did used to regale me with memories from the old world when I was a kid.”
“Because it was the only way to get you to quiet down an’ sleep!”
“Yes, and tales of your adventures in gambling and overdrinking while heedlessly pursuing women are such good bedtime stories.”
This time, a hearty laugh. “You’re a trip. Gotten nothin’ but feistier as you’ve grown!”
Clara finally lowers her book, smirking at him. “And who do we have to blame for that?”
“Dunno why you’re lookin’ at me that way! Take it up with your old man!”
“Speaking of that…” She pushes loose hair out of her hazel eyes. “You said he was looking for me?”
“Yeah. Seems you’ve been invited to tonight’s raid.”
“Need some young blood, huh? You could certainly use it.”
“There you go again with that mouth o’ yours!” Balthus sighs playfully. “You’re somethin’ else, Clara.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She yawns and stretches, arching her back like a cat. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”
As Balthus retreats back inside, Clara takes one last glance at her book before placing a torn piece of leather on the current page to mark her place. Holding the tome to her chest, she looks out to the horizon. Time to return to the world as we know it.