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If Sylvain was being honest with himself, he was tired.
both figuratively and literally. It was 3am at night when most people were already asleep, and here he was, having a fling with some random town girl he found earlier this afternoon. His body was sore from the previous mission. And it was freezing. It was the Ethereal moon, and the harsh winter winds bit against his skin, even underneath his thick coat. They were both making out within a hidden corner in the cathedral, which theoretically, was supposed to help block out the cold air. But alas, it didn’t help much. What he was doing was probably sacrilegious, but eh, he wasn’t ever particularly devout. If the goddess existed, everything would probably feel a lot less terrible right now.
His back felt as cold as ice as he was pushed against the stone walls of the cathedral. His new fling was particularly forward. Which was fine with him. It didn’t matter whether he was the one initiating or not, as long as it can keep his mind away from thinking for a while. He felt pain as she bit his lip a little too hard, but he made a sound of approval, encouraging her. He didn’t want to think right now. He didn’t want to be alone in his room. The cold grounded him. He could focus on the copper taste from his now torn lip. He listened as the woman pressed against his chest whispered honeyed words against his lips. It worked for a while. The endorphins rushed into his brain, letting him forget for a little while. But he should have known that he couldn’t evade his thoughts forever.
Miklan was dead.
*Dammit*. Dammit. He didn’t want to think about him right now. The black haired woman threaded her hand into his hair and gave what he guessed was supposed to be a playful tug. But he couldn’t help but remember the times when his brother would harshly yank on his hair, or all the times he would hit, shove, beat. What was supposed to be a distraction was now turning into something he wanted to stop. The weight pushing him against the wall now felt claustrophobic. He didn’t want to be doing this anymore.
Footsteps. He could hear footsteps. His unintentional savior. Maybe the goddess was real after all, heh.
“Shit! Don’t move. It’s Seteth.” Sylvain whispered into her ear. The woman against him froze. Whoever had walked into the cathedral, it definitely wasn’t Seteth. But the fling facing towards the wall didn’t know that. And luckily, their hiding spot was next to one of the back exits, so she wouldn’t be able to easily disprove Sylvain’s statement. The shadowed silhouette who entered through the front entrance was small, and despite being unable to see any facial features, the mystery figure had their hair pulled high into a messy bun. She was most likely a student. What she was doing at the cathedral alone at 3am was a mystery to him (well, she was probably here to pray), but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Quickly, don't turn around and don’t make a sound. Go home, I’ll meet up with you in the same spot same time tomorrow, alright sweetheart?”.
Little did she know (or maybe she does, everybody knows his reputation by now), he was not. But it was something easy to say in order to get her away, and soon, both Sylvain and the black haired woman started to slink out of the cathedral. But before he fully left through the exit, he took one last glimpse at the shadowed silhouette. Her form walked into one of the stray moonbeams, and he noticed something that surprised him.
Blue hair.
He hesitated, and before he realized, Sylvain quickly ducked back into his previous hiding spot, leaving the black haired woman behind. He held his breath. He took another glimpse. Yep, it’s her. Marianne von Edmund. He could see her better now that she was properly within the moonlight, her face turned upwards to look up at the stained glass windows.
He wasn’t sure why he stayed behind. He knew who Marianne was, but he hadn't talked with her much before. Sylvain had only recently joined the Golden deer class, and he was just starting to know most of his new classmates. They were a rowdy bunch, but Marianne stuck out in the classroom due to how much she tried to remain unnoticed. She was quiet. And she always seemed exhausted, with slouched shoulders and dramatic eye bags. He really put a foot in his mouth the first time he talked with her. Her statement of not caring about crests surprised him, and he winced as he remembered that sad, self-deprecating look in her eyes. He had quickly backed off, giving her the space she seemed to need. He hadn’t talked with her since.
Something felt wrong.
Sylvain was honestly surprised she hadn’t noticed him. Sure, he was hidden, but not particularly well. But her face remained vacant, her expression remaining fixed on the glass panes.
…………..
Time continued to pass.
…………..
It was freezing. He was worried. He wanted to step forward; coax her to go back to her dorm room. But a part of him felt like a hypocrite. He felt like he could relate to that look in her eyes.
But he had to do something. If she remained out here for any longer, he’ll go forward to talk with her.
“....... Goddess..”
Sylvain flinched. He wasn’t expecting that she would speak now, after around a half hour of silence. Her voice was quiet, but ragged, as if her throat had been torn. He held his breath, straining to hear her next words.
“Goddess, please, hear my prayer… This moon represents the time when you pray for peace. I beg of you… grant me peace. I am nothing but a burden; my crest is a curse. Take me to you… I beg of you…”
Sylvain froze.
His mind flashes back to broken limbs at the bottom of a well. He too had begged for the goddess. He begged for her help, begged to be rescued, begged to be taken to her.
He had spent hours in that well in silence, listening to his own pained, staggered breathing. The Goddess had never come for him. The Goddess would never come for Marianne, either.
He had to say something. He had too. He couldn’t.
Marianne continued to look upwards towards the moonlight, but eventually, she finally lowered her head towards the ground. She let out an empty, forlorn sigh. She finally turned around, and Sylvain watched as Marianne walked back out of the cathedral, her footsteps echoing loudly behind her.
Sylvain finally left as well.