Galar is buried so deep it’s as if it never happened. Whispers of a life long passed visited her in her dreams but she could never make heads or tails of it. The memories are buried for a reason, painful reminders of a love lost and more evidence she persistently fell short. Useful for a short time, but in the end Eva Morales is never enough.

You’d think she would learn to be wary, but a woman starved of connection clutches at every small morsel she’s given. Until he says her name, it’s something she didn’t even know she wanted to hear.

It makes her smile, which isn’t out of the ordinary, but it’s softer, appreciative, “Yeah, I do,” she takes his question as a desire to join her so she reaches out of his wrist, “C’mon,” and tugs him towards the outskirts of the carnival.

---

FERNANDO SILPH

Eva leads them through the crowd, snaking their way through the growing density and through a narrow space between the tents. They make their way along the backside of the vendors. No one seems to spare them a second glance. After all, two members of the League’s elite certainly wouldn’t be up to no good.

It eventually becomes clear where they’re heading. Just outside the fairgrounds, a shadowing structure loomed over them. Littleroot’s Water Tower was one of the only original structures remaining in the town after the devastation of the attack by rocket. Its integrity was questionable as noted by the fence and warning signs that enclosed it.

“Hold on.”

With a smile, her arms wrap tightly around his waist. In an effortless jump (with help from her DELTA STREAM), they ascend to the platform at the top of the water tower overlooking the carnival.

The wind dies when their feet touch down on the grated metal, “I think this’ll be the best place to watch the fireworks,” she finally offers as an explanation. She uncurls her arms from around him to step over to the railing. She glances down at the carnival below, admiring the strings of lights sculpting the maze between vendors and rides.

After a moment of silence, she speaks again, “You know, I never got to say thank you.”

---

FERNANDO SILPH

The breeze is a little stronger at the top of the tower, a bit more chilly. It’s not enough to make her uncomfortable but it’s noticeable. It doesn’t seem to phase her in the least bit. Wind had become a part of her.

Eva squats down to sit on the brim of the platform, hanging her legs over the edge to let them dangle freely. Her focus moves from the carnival to the horizon, watching the last few sparks of deep red fizzle out into a deep velvet blue, “Don’t be ridiculous, Fernando, of course I do,” she leans back on her palms, her legs swinging slowly to a beat in her head, “You didn’t have to be there for me but you were. So . . . thank you.”

---

FERNANDO SILPH

The blonde’s head tilts slightly, just enough to catch his silhouette in her periphery. The music of the wind and the whisper of the carnival below fill the silence while she mulls over his words. She agrees wholeheartedly, but it’s a deeper answer than what she expected from the councilman. He continued to surprise her every now and then.

Everything Eva has done has stemmed from the heart. Her career, joining the Kanto army, becoming Head Professor; it was all because she cared deeply - too deeply at times. Sometimes, it led her astray. Ultimately, she couldn’t come to regret her decisions, even if they shattered the very heart she trusted to guide her.

“They certainly do,” she finally says. It’s a lesson that took her too long to learn.

Eva turns at the waist to glance back at him. Her hand pats the ground beside her, “Scared of heights?” she teases with a smile, “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall.”

---

FERNANDO SILPH

His dry sense of humor triggers a subtle eye roll. Even if there is any truth in it, she knows he won’t hesitate because actions speak louder than words.

There’s still a long way to go, but she’s starting to understand the unique language of Fernando Silph. She finds comfort in his company, even as the conversation fades and the fireworks dominate her attention.

---

FERNANDO SILPH