The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 66 - Our Intricate Dance of Etched Concerns

Chapter 66: Chapter 66 - Our Intricate Dance of Etched Concerns

The reborn cultivator’s fingers suddenly trembled as she attempted to carve out one of her intricate sigils into the dark metal rivet. The usually steady mind of the cultivator wavered, drifting far from the task at hand. It lingered on the memory of Qatrand - *resplendent* in all of that silver - standing before a mirror in the ceremonial atelier’s shop after trying one on at her urging.

The image was seared into her eyes (and a spirit fragment). How the suit had hugged Qatrand’s strong frame... the way the light caught the silver threads and made her ’fortress’ shine like a beacon. Her breath hitched once again, practically mirroring the instant she’d first laid eyes on her Qat in the wedding attire.

The awl in her hand then slipped - leaving an unintended gash across the surface of a piece of prototyping leather. The heiress cursed softly in her heart. Then she closed her eyes briefly.

"Focus."

The words were muttered, as even in darkness... all that she could see was Qatrand standing there as a vision of strength and kindness that made her ancient heart race like a lovestruck youth. She really wished she could blame this on her Physique, but she knew it was a much more integral part of her than all that.

"This is why I learned everything in between romances... isn’t it..."

The train back was fairly uneventful, except for the order to sit beside Yatrel the entire time. The woman treated her eldest like she needed to be collared and chained. Sure, she may have caused another little minor incident of letting her spirit out of control and radiating a sense of possession at the young woman in the suit that the three others in the store could feel - but could she really have been blamed that badly?

Her father had also made a serious mention that he wanted to talk to her sometime after they got back. Luckily his work had gotten busy while they were away and the orphans had left news of their successes, so she had the perfect excuse to ignore his request. The only thing that wasn’t perfect was that The Ironclad Order was busy all around - including Qat.

---

A black haired swordswoman in a men’s blazer stood at attention. She tried to listen to the instructions being given to the younger members of the Guild. However, a fraction of her kept drifting to the memory of Elua’s face at the clothier’s. The sudden shift in the air, the palpable wave of... *her* that had washed over everyone in the room.

As the seniors continued their details, the Yecine’s gaze wandered. It landed on Ondua across the room. The man’s brow was furrowed and his eyes occasionally flicked towards her with an unreadable expression. She was sure he was thinking about the same event... as he had been keeping an eye on her like this ever since leaving that store.

<---

The silver-threaded jacket settled on her shoulders in nearly a perfect fit. She turned to face the mirror and adjusted the collar while appreciating how it felt. A surge of familiar spiritual force - ’hot’ and ’possessive’ - emanated from where Elua stood. For a second she thought the reaching tendrils of her spirit might melt.

Qatrand’s eyes met El’s in the mirror. The mint gaze was intense... even more predatory than the wolf she had once compared the feeling to. She forgot to breathe. Apparently everyone did.

The shop’s owner stumbled, catching herself on a nearby rack. Yatrel’s head snapped towards her daughter, eyes narrowing and ready to move. Ondua looked between them all, confusion morphing into genuine concern.

The tall blonde turned and faced the brunette directly. She saw the ’hunger’, the ’love’, the ancient *need* as understanding flooded her. This was what Elua’s love was - massively overwhelming and singularly encompassing. It felt dangerous, perhaps... but the danger was never towards her. It wasn’t a fire that would burn to touch.

She smiled softly and nodded, accepting. Acknowledging. And then when the small heiress closed her eyes, the energy receded as quickly as it had come.

--->

"Qatrand."

She blinked, realizing the meeting had ended while she became... lost in that moment again. The Goltbred father stood before her, an amount of clear concern on his face.

"Sir?"

"About what happened - how did you feel? Were you... affected? Is something still happening?"

His voice began low and careful with a bit of a frown. She partially understood what and why he was asking, so the swordswoman considered her words.

"I felt El’s... intent, sir. But I wasn’t afraid."

The brunette man’s frown. The Yecine was right to judge it as an intent, but-

"Her spiritual cultivation is unusual for her age. It must at least be stronger than mine was, then. I had no idea she was that gifted. But you saw how it felt to that woman who ran the store. I worry about the effects it might have on others. On you."

She understood his point perfectly. It also wasn’t like she could simply reveal how much the girl must have been holding it all back, even with how intense it felt. However...

"With all due respect, sir... her power is part of who she is. I trust that El would never harm me. I accept all of her, even the parts I don’t yet know."

Surprise flitted across the father’s face. It was replaced by a grudging respect. He nodded slowly.

"Just... be careful. She’s never let on that she has an Astralism and that... usually doesn’t bode well. I love my daughter, Qatrand. I just don’t understand her as well as I once thought."

As Ondua walked away conflicted, Qat allowed herself a small smile. There was indeed much they didn’t understand about their own Elua er Goltbred. Even she was still learning to embrace the rather beautiful complexity of her future wife. She didn’t think he would be any better than her, in only a few days.

Her hand unconsciously traced the spot on her neck where Elua’s lips had been that night in the inn. Warmth bloomed in her chest and on her ears.

Upon a short talk after she sent her husband and daughter ahead to their estate, the Goltbred mother had been very ’specific’ about what had actually happened and what her daughter was going through. She now knew that feeling she called ’hunger’ held a very different name.

’That... part of her might take longer to embrace.’

---

The rhythmic tap of tools against leather stopped as a presence started heading toward the house. Elua set aside her work and sighed.

’Of course he’d find me here. The question is was it my mother, or my servant?’

The way that she took revenge would require planning either way. The sound of knocking echoed from the door to the room.

"It’s your father. May I come in?"

"It’s unlocked, dad."

Ondua entered with his eyes scanning the ’workshop’. His wife had informed him of what his daughter had been up to today, but the sight of the projects and tools caused him to make a face. He shook his head and turned to the young miss of their house.

"I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important."

Elua smiled ’sweetly’. She had finally stopped fantasizing every five minutes about Qat in silver only... twenty minutes ago. He was very much interrupting her progress!

"Not at all, Dad. What brings you here?"

The man shifted around, clearly uncomfortable and struggling to find the words that would sound best.

"I wanted to talk about what happened at the atelier. Your... ability."

The room seemed to thicken with tension. Elua maintained her ’innocent’ expression as she tilted her head.

"My ability? What do you mean?"

The Goltbred’s eyes narrowed. Continuing to reject telling him could only mean that it is a dangerous Aspect... right?

"Elua, please. I was right there. That volume of spiritual pressure... it’s simply not normal for someone your age. I need to know what your Astralism is. Please. If we need to teach you so that it protects you and others, we need to know."

The reincarnated cultivator considered deflecting another time - but the concern in her father’s eyes gave her pause. He wasn’t wrong in his judgment, she knew. Every power that lacked control was dangerous to use.

She sighed with a hint of ’vulnerability’. The brunette met the other’s gaze.

"You’re right, father. I do have an Astralism. I also know what it is and that it’s not dangerous. It’s Projection."

Eyebrows rose at the admission that was unlike his expectation. He didn’t want to think she was lying, but-

"Projection? Like that orphan boy you sent after... all this leather?"

"Yes. When I saw Fusand’s ability, I recognized it immediately. That’s partly why I’ve been so interested in helping him."

"But why keep it a secret?"

Ondua asked with a tone more curious than accusatory. If she was telling the truth, then he really didn’t understand this part. His daughter thought of the best excuse she could.

"In our family, in our position, having an unusual ability can change how people see you. I’ve seen how people react to you and mom because of your strength. What’s more, I’m primarily a spiritualist in these parts."

She gestured around the start of her workshop - which was really just the dining room. There were piles of leather everywhere and it was quite unorganized. She planned to have the orphans help with that.

"I’m not interested in fighting like either of you. I wanted to try out my own path and to see what I could do without expectations or pressure just because of my capability as a cultivator. I want to figure out who I am beyond just my abilities."

The hero of the last war softened further with understanding.

"I see. That’s... actually quite mature of you, Elua."

"I was planning to tell you and mom soon. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying to do a lot of that."

The small girl let a touch of ’apology’ color her voice. She wasn’t really sorry that it hadn’t been sooner. He could have come an hour later and let her finish her work! Her father moved closer and placed a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

"I appreciate your honesty, Elua. And I understand your reasoning. Just remember, you don’t have to face challenges alone. We’re here for you, always."

"It would mean a lot more to me if you told me you were there for Qat."

She could feel his fingers twitching as he gripped her shoulder a little. Then he sighed and pulled her into a hug. Elua leaned into her father’s touch... some genuine affection and lingering guilt at her lack of guilt swirling together as a twinge of regrets twisted in her chest.

Another layer of protection for her secrets and another performance perfectly executed. Did she really have to tell all these lies? Her reasons sounded good to her, but she’d been deluding herself for so long she wasn’t sure.

How long would she keep this up? She vowed it wouldn’t be forever, just until she was strong enough not to fear reprisal. Would she then never say anything about the deceptions until the moment she took Qat to better places than this? Is that how she would leave things?

She pushed those thoughts aside for now.

’There is always time for regrets later. And if there is not? Well, then I can regret that.’