Chapter Text
Ochette has her eyes on Cyrus' back. His cape swishes from side to side, and she does want to pounce, but... she doesn't know him. He could've lied, same as Olberic, and she doesn't want to see Ma hurt... *especially* as she is. She makes sure that he's not bad, the same as his friend. Throne and Agnea are too busy talking gossip to notice how swishy Cyrus' cape is!
Olberic stopped suddenly, a large group of big fluffy dogs regarded him with enthusiasm. "On the gods... these are wardogs!"
Ochette frowned. "Wardogs?! If they lay a tooth on anyone here, you will be my next piece of jerky."
"Do you have jerky on hand? Perchance they will follow in league with us if we feed them!"
"They aren't yours?!"
"Nay, they're the children of the dogs who fought here all those years ago. They're quite friendly!"
"Hmm..." Ochette grabs some of her jerky out of her bag, the dogs perking up. She points to the ground. "Sit!" 2 of the dogs reluctantly follow her command. She gives them jerky, the others following in tow. After repeating the command a few times, she crouched, hand flat on the ground. "Lay down!" It took her many more tries to get that one right, the dogs rolling onto their bellies at times. Once they had that command down, Ochette held her hand upward. "Stay!" They made quick work of that command, their eyes on her spread-out hand. "Good boys!" She gave them ear scritches and they followed her.
"You're a Professor?" Elena glanced at Cyrus.
Cyrus nods. "Professor first, beyond all else. What do you wish to know?"
"How you've managed to be so dense in manners of the heart."
"I'm by no means interested in the fairer sex, milady-"
"That's not what I meant," she huffed, "you and Olberic remind me of my parents."
Cyrus turned bright red. "...Surely, you jest!"
"Tem tends to run his mouth about every little thing he finds interesting. You do, too. Olberic and Papa are listeners who like to listen to their weirdos ramble."
"Your parents are both...?"
"They're two guys, yeah. My mom died when I was 5."
Agnea stared in shock. "She just called Temenos her...!"
"That makes me her aunt," Throne guffawed.
"The look on his face, I can imagine it!"
"Momenos," Throne wheezed. "Temenos Momstral...!"
Cyrus flushed red. "You need not mock the man!"
"I'm doing this as his sister, Professor!"
"HE HAS A GOOD-LOOKING MAN, OK??? OSVALD IS FINE.
"Cyrus," Olberic sighed, "Are you perchance into men?"
"MAYBE????"
"...Let us discuss this another time," Olberic sighed. "The Gates are upon us."
In the Gate of Finis, Olberic grinned. "I expected not a single one of those dogs to accompany us."
"They're good listeners," Ochette smirked. "Hidoggy is especially good with his ears!"
Castti sighed. "What did you name them...?"
"Dogvald, Catti, Doggrone, Dogchette, Barktitio, Arfnea, Dogmenos, Hidoggy. Dogvald and Dogmenos are the defacto leaders!"
Castti stares exhausted at Cyrus. "...Please start the incantation."
Cyrus cleared his throat. "'O Sacred Finis... grant us passage to the Islands of Sol!'" All of those in the Gate disappeared in a flash of light.
Ochette was relieved to see the Gate in Solistia's direction! "Follow us," she waved, "Our ship is out here."
"We're going to Timberain," Ochette barked. "Edmund is there, and we'll need some ship maintenance."
Castti bit her lip. "Surely we can stop sooner if the ship needs some care..."
"Nah! We'll last until then," Ochette grinned. "This'll be a two-week trip. Brace yourselves for adventure, Iris, Obrik!"
"Ochette-"
"This meeting is dismissed. Man your posts, everyone."
"Ochette, let me do something-" Castti felt another sudden pain, her knees falling to the ground. "Aaagh!"
Throne helped her up. "Castti, your stomach-"
"*I know,*" she growled. "I have a cancerous substance that is rapidly growing in me, and I am to die by the morrow."
"No, Castti..." Throne looked at her dagger, Marietta.
"You remember what Claude did to women of the Blacksnakes?"
"...That was *sick.*"
"Edmund and you have been intimate before. ...You're pregnant."
"I'm..." Castti felt that pain again. "That was a child's kick?"
"I've seen women in the Blacksnakes pregnant," Throne whispered. "That's completely normal. Rest, Castti. You and your child both need it."
"How do I tell Edmund-?"
"That man loves children," she sighed. "He'll be ecstatic."
"I... I'm..."
"You're not alone," Throne hugged her. "Let me know if you want me to leave you alone, this is the most I can do."
Castti hugged her back. "Thank you. ...I'm sorry, this must be reminding you of-"
"I'm caring for family," Throne hissed. "That's what I did then, too." Castti fell asleep quickly.
While Castti rested, Ochette took a piece of parchment from Cyrus. "Mahina," Ochette sighed. "We never got that letter from Osvald..."
"That does not make you in the right here!" Mahina held the piece of stolen parchment in her beak. "Now, what do I write?!"
"I dunno! 'yo Edmund, your girlfriend's pregnant and we're dragging her from some batshit southern continent to Timberain. KEEP HER IN ONE PLACE'?!"
"I'm making my way to Timberain," Mahina nodded. "I'll be back in a week!"
"MAHINA NO-" Ochette whimpered. "...and she's gone. FUCK."
"Watch your language, huntress," Elena smirked.
"FUCK SHIT MOTHERFUCKER-"