Our power is made perfect in weakness (closed to Flamebird)

[Flamebird]

She was in a state of confusion. The room was unfamiliar and strange. She was wet, completely coated in sweat and laying in a damp bed. Completely bewildered by the surroundings, feeling a sense of terror she could not put her finger on, she laid in a state of strange deja-vu as the quiet room was filtered with the light.

When a man walked in, she was even more confusion. He was familiar, but she was unable to properly put things together. Was that Daisuke, the alchemist who gifted her powers her long ago? No, this man was too young. Jonathan? Wait, no, he was dead, he…

“Are you okay?”

His voice was like a distant echo as she felt glazed in a thick fog as the ithil light shone into the room. As white rays bounced off the wooden walls, she suddenly remembered the white coat on his frame. Oh! This was-

She scrambled to a sitting position as he continued to talk. In a state of rapid thought, she suddenly pieced together the trip to Raiaera in insane speeds. Panting heavily, she watched him trying to keep his eyes focused and she flushed red. Yanking the soaked blankets up, she became aware that she had had another nightmare. Shinsou’s somber features made her realize he had heard her…

Her face grew to even hotter temperatures as embarrassment mixed with her insane heartbeat. “You heard-“ Shinsou had watched Felicity break before, but Felicity was still unused and uncomfortable with the moments he saw her… weakness… She was unaware of how crazed she looked as she rose to a knee and bent leg on the bed. He offered a midnight walk and exercise, potential training, and Felicity realized she was up to it. She nodded, gulping as she felt the sweat trickling down her back. “Be ready in’a moment. Nee-eed to get ready.” Her words were slurred and blurted out. She obviously was still caught up in the terror of something she did not even remember. She knew she had a nightmare, but the contents she could not recall. Many nights of this left her used to waking up like this, yet she never could get rid of the mixture of confusion, anger, and pain that made her want to scream and cry at the same time.

Shinsou left the room for her to get ready. With shaking hands, Felicity rapidly changed into a green shirt and brown, long pants. Flinging her katana, in its sheath, over her back; she pulled her hair back in a manner that screamed that she did not care. Soon enough, she and Shinsou were walking down a deserted, dirt road outside the town.

The cool air was enough to bring Felicity back to reality. Even though she still caught herself hugging herself frequently, she felt comforted by the familiar form of Shinsou, his signature white coat, and the fact that he was here again… she almost lost him recently.

With a shudder, Felicity decided to move things along. She had bought her katana, Copycat, when she first became his apprentice. She meant to learn as much as she could from him and meant to memorize his fighting style. Of course, Shinsou was far more, well, thoughtful than Felicity. His elegance and finesse was incredible compared to her own and Shinsou had a phenomenal gift of foresight she could never have. Still, she meant to compliment him to the best of her abilities. Thus, the katana on her back.

Shinsou himself had a new weapon, and Felicity was still in the dark as to how he got it. From the moment he returned, she could feel the dark change in him vibrating from his magical energy, his signature. And he was more… aggressive… Felicity was seriously concerned for her teacher. They both needed this getaway, with the Brotherhood now in general peace. Under the stars, Felicity’s mind was bombarded with concern after concern. Despite coming here for respite, Felicity’s doubts and fears never escaped her.

As the sound the crickets and frogs sang in the grasses beyond the path, Felicity’s feet skidded in the dirt until she came to a stop. She needed out of her head. Now. She wanted to cry, and she could not let herself show more weakness in front of the man she desperately wanted to please. With a deep sigh, she pulled the sword in front of her. Holding it in her sheath, she gave into the old habit of numbing her pain instead of facing it.

“’Far enough.” She muttered in a monotone that barely hid her wild emotions, “Wan’ a spar?”