[It’s funny, how the intricacies of war looked the same, no matter what world, what universe. The inside of that dimmed tent was nothing like any of her father’s war rooms on their massive castleship, but standing there, listening to the grim briefing made her feel like she was a youth again, standing off to the side while some solder gave her father grim news from the battlefront. Feeling the quiet sense of dread and despair and duty that bled from all of the people in the room, even though they were just visions.
The real Sylvain explains, and she sucks in a breath, placing faces to names – and a title to Dimitri, though she wonders why he didn’t introduce himself as such when they first met. It was odd seeing Sylvain like this. Grim, as opposed to the bright personality she’d come to know. Even on the night that they’d met, it wasn’t like this. But I know what it’s like to retreat until your back is against a wall too he’d told her then.]
Who are you writing to?
[There was a lot still to unpack here, but the question comes out, concerned for a timeline she knew nothing about.]
no subject
The real Sylvain explains, and she sucks in a breath, placing faces to names – and a title to Dimitri, though she wonders why he didn’t introduce himself as such when they first met. It was odd seeing Sylvain like this. Grim, as opposed to the bright personality she’d come to know. Even on the night that they’d met, it wasn’t like this. But I know what it’s like to retreat until your back is against a wall too he’d told her then.]
Who are you writing to?
[There was a lot still to unpack here, but the question comes out, concerned for a timeline she knew nothing about.]