[It is not as easy, in this place, to tell who was an aion-- or, "shard-bearer", rather. As much as Hayame was enjoying (and refusing to acknowledge) not being gawked at so obviously wherever she walked... it also let to a sense of confusion that came with this new place, no knowing who exactly was an ally or an enemy, let alone who was "native" or "foreign"... And perhaps there were those among their number who thought of such ambiguity as a good thing, but she...
The man she has addressed pulls the book from his face and becomes more than just an impression of color and hair and jewelry, and in the book's wake... is a face that is somewhat familiar. As a consequence of the crack running through the obsidian shard hidden beneath her bindings which were hidden beneath her modest robe, her memories of her last days in Horos blurred and became unreliable, too chaotic to piece despite her efforts, and yet...
There had been someone. Someone who had helped her, when she had needed it, and spoken words that actually made sense. How and why she cannot recall, but that man's name had been... Claude. It had been Claude. Was she suddenly hallucinating, now, imagining what that man might look like in some years' time? Was her experience with foreign faces so bad that she had simply mistaken a man of similar race and build for him? Except the way he attempts to force some strange joke is also familiar... it makes her one visible eye narrow as her brow furrows, the confusion evident on her features...
no subject
The man she has addressed pulls the book from his face and becomes more than just an impression of color and hair and jewelry, and in the book's wake... is a face that is somewhat familiar. As a consequence of the crack running through the obsidian shard hidden beneath her bindings which were hidden beneath her modest robe, her memories of her last days in Horos blurred and became unreliable, too chaotic to piece despite her efforts, and yet...
There had been someone. Someone who had helped her, when she had needed it, and spoken words that actually made sense. How and why she cannot recall, but that man's name had been... Claude. It had been Claude. Was she suddenly hallucinating, now, imagining what that man might look like in some years' time? Was her experience with foreign faces so bad that she had simply mistaken a man of similar race and build for him? Except the way he attempts to force some strange joke is also familiar... it makes her one visible eye narrow as her brow furrows, the confusion evident on her features...
She forgets to actually say anything except,]
What?