The Magic Box, Wednesday
It occurred to Elsa that she really didn't know quite how to get in touch with Rinoa if there were things she wanted to ask her about. Things, like, say, going into the back room and pulling out all of the potentially dangerous reading material that Rinoa had packed safely away when she'd first opened shop here. The books out front were all fine
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She had taken some of the Lieutenant Commander and Mr. St-- Jono's advice, such as it was, and toned down her wardrobe a touch. Not quite street clothes, obviously, but considerably less outlandish than her usual.
"Good afternoon," she greeted the girl at the counter. "Would you mind telling me where the reference materials are?"
(fleeing for work but wanted to establish her here first! SP ok??)
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...
...
Dress?
"They're toward the back, Rinoa," she ventured, a touch warily. "Except for the potentially dangerous ones. They're in the back room, locked away." A beat. "Mostly."
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"I'm ... sorry," she said. "I'm usually much better at faces. You are ... ?"
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There was another moment's hesitation, before she ventured, "Unless you're not Rinoa. Apparently that's been happening a lot around here, lately."
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Another Rinoa, then. Their host had said as much. It was still unnerving, hearing of another her befriending people and going on adventures all while wearing her own face.
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But then, 'Caraway' was a name she'd never heard, either.
"My apologies. There was somebody that was startlingly like you, though perhaps not half as extravagantly dressed. She owns this shop, and she's the one that hired me."
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"I've heard there was another version of myself wandering about," she said. "I shouldn't be so surprised that she's made herself known to other people, but it's still startling to hear. I suppose it's only fitting that it's a magic shop."
She gestured to her gown. "I'm being formal today, that's all," she said. "People expect a bit of grandeur from a Sorceress."
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While Elsa herself buried hers good and deep, thank you.
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Thus proving that Lady Caraway was new to Fandom.
"I couldn't exactly hide what I am," she said, lifting her shoulders. "I've been like this since I was five years old. Everyone knows."
It did not seem to be a world-ending situation, that people knew. If Elsa was curious.
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Stop snooping, Elsa.
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"Not at first," she admitted. "I should explain. My father, he was head of the Galbadian military, when I was a girl. A patrol squad in Deling City found a dying Sorceress by the side of the road. They feared it was a trick -- almost everyone back then feared Sorceresses, because of the war that had just ended. So they brought her to our house, for Father to examine. She passed her powers on to me."
She lifted a shoulder. "So there he was. Mother had only been gone a few months, and I was their only child. He and I -- we're all that we have in the world. What was he to do?"
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Her own parents had loved her, even though she was so terrifyingly dangerous. She couldn't imagine her life growing up without them there. It was difficult, now, to imagine going on with them gone.
"Power doesn't change whose daughter you are."
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She smiled, faintly. "But he had allies, too. You don't get to be a General -- a good one, who cares for his men -- without making allies. Nobody trusted the President; the military was loyal to Father, not him. They didn't want Father and I to have to flee like that. It ended up as a coup d'etat. Largely bloodless."
There had been some minor fighting, but most people were only too eager to toss aside their arms. Very few wanted to fight for Deling. Any reasonable alternative would have been heartily welcomed, and General Caraway was easily that.
"So ... the old President is gone, and now Father's right-hand is in charge. And I was in introduced to the public later. I'm a diplomat, the Guardian Sorceress of Galbadia. I attend functions, I visit countries, I argue for peace. The world ... changed."
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But to answer the girl's main question:
"They don't fear me," she said. "I don't have to hide."
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She didn't have to hide.
Elsa nodded, eye falling to the countertop. Perhaps if Arendelle had been made aware of her powers when she was still a child, she would have nothing to fear, herself.
But then, another princess had been snatched right from her cradle several kingdoms over, in Corona. Her parents had been right to fear. Probably. Perhaps.
"It must be quite a fantastic feeling," she murmured, "to have no reason to fear."
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