Still here

“One could read all the books of history, and the history of humankind would still be able to bite one in the ass. Knowing your past will not secure your future. Getting killed will not help you find your identity,” Shaelyn replied, addressing Lucina's continued inquiries with a stark realism about the limits of knowledge and the dangers of delving too deep.

“You’re stuck on something you lost. Maybe it’s a blessing you’ve lost it. None of your kind had a happy past,” she added. Shaelyn reflected that if Lucina had indeed remembered her origins, she might have been burdened with a life spent hiding her true nature in pursuit of normalcy.

When Lucina queried about the nature of their birth, wondering if it was the result of experimentation, Shaelyn hummed thoughtfully. “You were born like this,” she affirmed. Such traits as horns and tails were innate, manifesting in the mother’s womb, not anomalies acquired in life.

Responding to another of Lucina's questions, Shaelyn nodded affirmatively. “From what I’ve seen, people like you cannot reproduce. Your parents will have been perfectly ordinary human beings.” She gave Lucina a brief once-over, a light smile playing on her lips as she added a touch of levity, “A bit short, maybe,” softening the gravity of their discussion with a gentle tease.

When Lucina expressed her determination to pursue her quest despite the risks, Shaelyn responded with a gentle, somewhat concerned smile. “I hope it will be worth it,” she murmured softly. Deep down, she had her doubts—believing that the pursuit of answers shouldn't jeopardise the opportunity to continue questioning. Nonetheless, she respected Lucina's resolve, understanding that she needed to honour her friend's choices.

Lucina’s objection to being called short brought a chuckle from Shaelyn. “It’s cute, but you are,” she teased gently. While Shaelyn herself wasn't particularly tall, she noted that Lucina was one of the shortest adults she knew, and suspected there was a reason for it that tied into Lucina’s origins.

Addressing Lucina's query about the existence of a birth record, Shaelyn thoughtfully replied, “I don’t think there is one,” her tone soft, conveying empathy. “I don’t believe you were born in Sanctum City. I also think... you were never meant to come here.”

Lucina inquired about Shaelyn's comment concerning their supposed absence from the area. Shaelyn responded with a soft hum. When Lucina apologised for her questioning, Shaelyn gently shook her head.

“It is alright. That’s why I brought you here, to a place secluded from others. It’s preferable to have these discussions where there are no prying ears,” Shaelyn reassured her with a soft smile. She then took the gem that hung against her chest and lifted the necklace over her head, carefully pulling her hair free so she could grasp the silver chain, watching the gem shift from red to clear.

“Hold this for a moment, please,” she requested, extending it towards Lucina with a gentle smile. “Just the gem. What’s the first place you remember being?” she continued, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

With a keen eye, Shaelyn observed the crystal darken, as though ensnaring a shadow within its depths. She might have simply asked Lucina about her affinity, yet observing it revealed through the crystal provided a more direct, often more revealing answer, especially since not everyone was fully aware of their own powers.

“Your affinity is dark. I wonder how much it has to do with the followers of Yveltal,” Shaelyn noted calmly. “If you seek answers, your best start might be to learn more about them. I wouldn’t recommend a trip to Shadowfell, but that might still be safer than wandering exposed here,” she advised with a gentle sigh.

“I am afraid that is all the information I can provide,” she concluded. Her knowledge was limited to what she had observed and what had been shared with her. Exploring further into these mysteries was a task for Lucina, should she choose to undertake it.