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[Mmmmmm...]

I mean, I could, but... I feel like it'd be a lot happier to receive a name from you.

It doesn't have to be perfect, you know? Just... something that you really mean!

[ The little bird curled up next to his cheek peeps in agreement with Altria, and his eyebrow twitches slightly. This is—too much, for him. He can't be responsible for a name. He only received his not even a few years ago. How can he be expected to create a fitting name for the bird?

...no, it doesn't have to be that deep, right? He'd been lightly called the Kabukimono for his strangeness back in Tatarasuna, and that hadn't been intended as a real name, just something to refer to him by. He just hadn't minded, was all.

This plump, blue bird... he thinks of the fluttering of paper, and the tinkle of a glass bead hitting the round shape of a chime, the pure tone ringing out in the heat of a summer breeze. He looks at Altria, bright green eyes, golden blonde hair, and thinks how lovely it'd be to see her enjoy the beauty of a wind chime on a clear summer's day, the sky bluer than even the seas surrounding Inazuma. ]

...Suzu. Meaning refreshing or clear.

[ But also a homophone for bell, just like how his name was a homophone for so many other words, the Traveler had said, explaining their reasons for picking out his name. He had the potential to be so much, if he so chose. If he didn't liked the Inazuman character they'd picked out for him, he was free to change it, they said. He hadn't. ]

[... Oh. He really--truly did it. And as she thought, as he always does... he didn't half-ass it at all.

A name meaning refreshing or clear. How beautiful, she thinks. The word itself has a lovely sound to it, and she's sure that it means even more to him in his language, just as his own name has so much meaning behind it.

... It's wonderful, she thinks. She knows this bird is not a faerie, and that it would have been fine without a name. But it means so much to her that even just a little bird like this would be given such a wonderful, meaningful name.

She doesn't really think about it--she just impulsively reaches out to try to throw her arms around him in a hug, if he allows it.]

It's a wonderful name! A really, really pretty sounding one!

I really, really like it!

[ He doesn't react fast enough to stop her from succeeding in the hug, and he immediately freezes from the physical contact. Suzu is faster to react, hopping off the drifter's shoulder and perching itself on his hat once more where it is happy to start singing again.

His cheeks are brushed red and he squirms, half-heartedly trying to pull away from Altria. ]

It's just a name! You don't need to overreact like this!!

[ It's been far too long since he last received a hug. A proper one that isn't charged with heavy emotions and a need to be comforted. ]

[He squirms, which means she fussily squeezes him a little closer for a moment, before she finally releases him.

But her expression is serious, for her, when she meets his eyes.]

It isn't just a name, though. It's very important.

This little birdie wouldn't become a Mors without a name, but... you've still given it purpose and meaning.

[ The squeeze makes him squirm even more (because he doesn't want to think about how nice it is to be so close to Altria, it's making him more flustered than he'd like to be), but thankfully he's released in quickly after and he calms quickly, revealing none of his turmoil except for the red splashed along his cheeks.

The grave expression on her face wipes away the fuzzy feeling in his chest quickly enough. Names, he knows, are something she takes very seriously. Mors... he's not familiar with that term. But he can guess. ]

A Mors... is what faeries without a name turn into?

[ Suzu has stopped chirping, letting a weighty blanket of silence fall over them. ]

... That's right.

[She's not surprised he's pieced it together with what she told him before. In fact, she was banking on it. Before--before this place, before him, she would've just tried to keep all of this to herself.

But... she likes it when he understands what she's thinking and why. And she knows she can trust him with the information.]

The Mors are... poison to other faeries. A faerie without a name or purpose is doomed to become one eventually... but a faerie that is touched by a mors will also become one. There's no cure. They just... become mindless monsters wandering the land, corrupting any faeries in their path.

[ Altria has a heavy burden of some sort. She has yet to fully elaborate, but he's been putting the pieces together slowly, from what little she willingly gives, and what she's accidentally spilled. The Mors are another piece of that puzzle, slowly completing the image that is Altria Caster in his mind. ]

They can affect you too, right?

[ Because she's a faerie as well.

It's like the forbidden knowledge that corrupted Sumeru until recently. But unlike his home world, it didn't seem like there was a way to reverse the corruption. Unless...could it be? ]

[The question is pointed enough that Altria's pretty sure he's starting to figure out a fair amount of what's going on back home for her. It doesn't--bother her, she realizes, a little startled by the thought.

But maybe that's not so surprising.

If anyone would understand... it's him, right?]

... No. The Mors curse can't affect me.

I'm a Faerie of Paradise, so... I'm immune. [Her, and Morgan. Only them.]

[ He's not sure either potential answer would have made him happy. If she wasn't immune, then she was likely in severe danger back home, but— she is, because she's different.

You must be the one to step into the forge and calm it. For everyone's sake.

...he doesn't like the hypothesis he has in his head right now. ]

What's so different about a Faerie of Paradise?

[ He asks with curiosity, but doesn't expect an answer. No, he doesn't want her to give one if she's uncomfortable. Hopefully she can tell through his voice. ]

[It's a good question. She considers it for a long moment, trying to figure out how to put it. It's not a question she's ever answered purposefully. It's the sort of question that, back home, she'd always ducked with all of her heart.

But he already knows so much about her.

And... she wants him to know more about her, she realizes.]

The reason... faeries can be affected by the mors is because they've sinned.

[A beat, and she frowns, wrinkling her nose.]

No... some of them were simply born into that sin. To be a faerie of Faerie Britain is to be a sinner, regardless of what you've done.

But I'm not a faerie from Faerie Britain. I'm from somewhere else-- [Where doesn't really matter, not really. She doesn't remember it.] --and I was sent there to save them.

[There's no great confidence in her words at that last statement. No certainty. No pride. She just sounds tired, and matter-of-fact.]

[ So that must be her burden. To become a saviour for some place she has no connection to. And it's not even something she wants to do, judging by the time of her voice. And unwilling saviour, then. She has a purpose, but it's not one she wants.

In reality, it was the same for him, wasn't it? He'd had a purpose—which he fulfilled upon creation—but that wasn't what he wanted either, was it? Or perhaps he was just making up excuses so he wouldn't be angry at her for having something he desperately wanted. ...no, that wasn't true. He wasn't angry at her at all. She looked far too tired to earn his ire. ]

You... [ don't sound like you want to do it. So— ] —why?

[ Why haven't you given up the role yet? ]

[... That's a good question. Altria isn't surprised by it, but it seems she also doesn't have a good answer; she breathes out a slow, rueful sigh, rubbing the back of her neck.]

... I don't know.

[That's the honest truth.]

I've almost given up so many times... [And it probably would've been easier to, really.] At first I just didn't want to disappoint anyone, but they all hate me now anyway, so that doesn't really matter anymore...

[Gareth, Percival, Oberon... all of the people she cared about who she didn't want to disappoint are either dead or on their way out--or not of that world to begin with.]

Maybe... I just thought... If I kept going, then someday... I'd find out for myself.

[What's been keeping her going. What she's been fighting so hard for.]

[ He doesn't understand her motivations. It's not logic that she's running on, at this point. Perhaps it's a sense of responsibility. But he doesn't like it—that she's dragging herself through something she doesn't even want to do. But to voice his opinion on it... it doesn't feel right, to interfere with her purpose like that. As much as he wants to.

So he's silent for a long moment. ]

...I see.

[ It's the most he can muster, at the end. What else could he say? He couldn't even accompany her on that journey, so she didn't have to suffer alone. It would all be empty words, stating the obvious or dredging up desires that oughtn't be voiced. ]

[She doesn't know where they go from here either. In the end, that's her duty. In the end, that's what she's decided to do, too. Even though it'll kill her. Even though it's made her miserable.

But now... it's made him upset too, and she... wishes that wasn't the case.

(She's the one betraying him again.

She's the one hurting him this time.)]

... Well! It's okay! [It's not, but... it has to be, too.] I'm almost finished with it now.

So don't worry too much, okay?

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