Xian Xiao
Elementalist
Xian slowed when Noriko stopped, boots easing to a halt midway across the bridge. She followed her master's gaze down into the valley, and for a long moment, she didn't say anything at all.
It was… a lot.
The kind of view that made her chest feel tight, not from fear, but from scale. From realizing how small a single person was against something that old and untouched. The mist curling through the trees far below, the river cutting its patient path, the peaks hemming the valley in like a secret the galaxy had forgotten how to reach. It didn't feel like a place meant to be conquered or ruled. It felt like a place meant to endure.
When Noriko spoke about family, about tens of thousands housed within the palace, Xian finally shifted her weight and folded her arms loosely, grounding herself against the cold air and the vertigo that still whispered at the edge of her senses.
"…That's hard to imagine," she admitted quietly. "Not the size. The continuity."
She glanced up at Noriko then, really looked at her, at the ease in her posture and the way she belonged in this height and this space as if the mountains themselves had shaped her stride.
"Most places I've been," Xian continued, choosing her words carefully, "families scatter. Wars, borders, politics, Orders. People leave, or get reassigned, or disappear. You're always told it's necessary. That it's part of serving something bigger."
Her gaze drifted back to the valley, softer now.
"This feels… different. Like the land actually remembers who lives here."
She huffed a small breath, something almost like a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"And for the record," she added, casting Noriko a sideways look, "I am fully believing the half about you being awesome. The other half, I'm reserving judgment on until I survive the rest of today."
She shifted her stance, steady again, and nodded once toward the path ahead.
"But I'm glad you brought me here," Xian said, quietly sincere. "Even if you're absolutely going to make a terrible joke about getting high at some point."
A beat.
"I can feel it coming."
Noriko Ike
It was… a lot.
The kind of view that made her chest feel tight, not from fear, but from scale. From realizing how small a single person was against something that old and untouched. The mist curling through the trees far below, the river cutting its patient path, the peaks hemming the valley in like a secret the galaxy had forgotten how to reach. It didn't feel like a place meant to be conquered or ruled. It felt like a place meant to endure.
When Noriko spoke about family, about tens of thousands housed within the palace, Xian finally shifted her weight and folded her arms loosely, grounding herself against the cold air and the vertigo that still whispered at the edge of her senses.
"…That's hard to imagine," she admitted quietly. "Not the size. The continuity."
She glanced up at Noriko then, really looked at her, at the ease in her posture and the way she belonged in this height and this space as if the mountains themselves had shaped her stride.
"Most places I've been," Xian continued, choosing her words carefully, "families scatter. Wars, borders, politics, Orders. People leave, or get reassigned, or disappear. You're always told it's necessary. That it's part of serving something bigger."
Her gaze drifted back to the valley, softer now.
"This feels… different. Like the land actually remembers who lives here."
She huffed a small breath, something almost like a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"And for the record," she added, casting Noriko a sideways look, "I am fully believing the half about you being awesome. The other half, I'm reserving judgment on until I survive the rest of today."
She shifted her stance, steady again, and nodded once toward the path ahead.
"But I'm glad you brought me here," Xian said, quietly sincere. "Even if you're absolutely going to make a terrible joke about getting high at some point."
A beat.
"I can feel it coming."
Noriko Ike
