Lilies of the Valley.

He watched Elsword pick a few, amongst other wildflowers of splendid colours, but the small, bell-like flower buds captured his attention, also stirring old memories he thought he had laid to rest. Adjusting his coat, he directed his attention to sharpening his sword, grinding his blade against the whetstone with careful precision and caution, although he had done it many times before.

She never cared for silken outfits or jewelled trinkets of the finest insert-some-exotic-country-name. Although it earned her much scathing gossip, she talked regularly to the commonfolk. She wore simple dresses and (the fashionable ladies called this a horror) trousers and shirts and armour that only defined her natural beauty further.

And flowers. Seris loved how the little flowers dangled from their stem, like little steps. "Fairy steps to heaven", she called them lovingly. She appreciated flowers of every kind, but the Fairy Lilies were special. They brought happiness, a pure sweetness hard to find in the war-torn countries within Elrios.

Here was a memory: a week before their official engagement, he got her a bouquet of those flowers (In Velder, they were rare as they were precious) after scrounging around the nearby woodlands and even the nearest mountain, and when she was presented with the fruits of his labour, she looked as if ready to burst with joy. She was almost crying in delight as she threw her arms around him, dirty and messy as he was.

How he regretted that he didn't find them more often, and give her more reasons to smile.

Such recollections pained him. It had taken great measures and sacrifices to forfeit his rage, no matter how justified. The people that deserved his anger and vengeance...they were unreachable. And if he kept his fury? That would have only poisoned him, the past engulfing his present and future in the flames of his wrath. No. He could not give himself, or his arm, to such destructive power.

The stings of past injustices, the indignation...most of it was gone now. That didn't mean he was free from his other emotions: Guilt. Shame. Regret. Sadness.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Elsword sheathed his sword and walked over to Aisha, offering the floral bunch with a knightly bow and shy eyes with some words the elder couldn't decipher. Raven sneaked another look with approval; the redhead's chivalry was heart-warming. He couldn't make out what the girl said in return, but both of them were blushing very furiously. But he could tell both were also much pleased.

The sweetness brought a wave of nostalgia, and pain. All this while he had soothed his rage by clinging to the scraps of memories that defined him before: His blood brothers of the Black Crows. The kingdom's subjects that looked to him in admiration and appreciation for allowing them to be heard over the hedonism of the nobles. And Seris, who had been with him every step of the way, to the death. Seris...

Fairy Lilies...she also loved them.

As the elder sister caught the flustered pair, cuffing her brother good naturedly and winking at Aisha, another figure emerged out of the trees, wearing an apron filled with plants, and flowers. Beautiful white flowers, fragrant lilacs, white daisies with bits of dirt still clinging at the roots. Her golden hair was a mess, but that bothered her little as she waved to the others, and approached him with a beatific smile.

But what was she to him? A figure that helped him move forward and achieve a future? Or a memory long past that he kept forcing into the present?

"...Raven, I think your sword is sharpened enough. Unless you plan to grind the blade off its hilt, please put it down."

"Atta boy!" Elesis clapped her hand behind his back, making the gears on his shoulders rattle. "Now that's how you get a lady! Hard to believe that you were once the boneheaded muscle boy I've trained all those years ago!"

"Sister, please..." He muttered, his face flushing even deeper. "That was not what I..."

"Nonsense!" The elder flashed a grin at Aisha, who squeaked and stared at the ground. "I'm proud of you, little brother. And as for you..."

She jerked to attention, thankful that her bangs hid some of her face. "Y-yes?"

"Tell me when he gets all into a knot, will you? If he ever tries to do something funny to you..." Elesis opened her palm, allowing a ball of fire to flare at her fingertips. "He'll burn worse than in Hell."

The Lord Knight groaned. His timing was terrible to have caught the attention of his raucous, free-spirited sister the exact moment he attempted to court with the High Mage.

"Sister, I understand," Contradicting her would be pointless. "Now please, if you could just...give us a moment..."

"What?...Oh. Oh." She grinned. "Proposing already, eh?"

Eve was never meant to be a fully cohesive combat unit; Moby and Remy were her guardians and battle units to be used occasionally. After all, her codes were much more intricate than those of her subjects. She possessed calculative analysis programs, data of the history of the Nasods, the technology of her ancient predecessors and potential successor, several among many that she used as queen.

Code 'Exotic' was meant to be used as a last resort. It was ancient and had almost been forgotten by Eve herself, therefore incomplete, unstable, which was why it was intended to be used when the Nasods had nothing else to lose.

Because it had been within Eve since the beginning, lying inactive within her core, the code quickly adapted to Eve's systems, working its way through her circuits as Nasod blades materialized in her systems. Nasod spears bended to her will. Explosives and blasters hovered at her fingertips, firing themselves at the flick of her fingers. Moby and Remy evolved with their mistress, becoming whips, launchers, and missile launchers.

She was the Scion of the Nasods, but more. The Queen of Destruction.

"It's you...! You're the one from...from the old Nasod!"

Her face, usually set in a deadpan expression, furrowed in slight dismay. This human—a madman, seeing as he carried out his actions with little remorse or fear, that stood before her as if her superior, wielded weapons that were derived from her race! That fact alone was an insult to her kind.

And the way he stared at her, so hungrily...it was as if he had never seen a Nasod before.

Which, of course, wasn't implausible. But why did he stare at her so, as if she were his prey? It was disconcerting.

"You will get hurt. Do not get in my way." Eve always warned her adversaries, offering a last chance for them to back down. It was, in a way, how she kept her own sanity from mindless destruction. She sought no pleasure in death and ruin and battle was nothing more than a means to an end.

Silence.

"Get hurt?" He repeated those words questioningly. A grin spread on his face. "Of course, we can't have that, can we? We don't want your codes damaged...that would mess up the experiment." He laughed in anticipation. "Much too precious to be damaged."

Indeed, he was not disappointed. Her battle stance, drones...it was exactly as he had read about and imagined! No, more! Way more! He was almost overwhelmed at the data he could collect by just looking at her, watching her fight, her moves and abilities...imagine the trove of knowledge and information he could get from even a single line of her internal coding!

He adjusted his Dynamos, reducing their power to almost two-thirds; she was clearly a Nasod from the ancient ages, an old, but much more developed and powerful being. If he damaged her...even his research might not be enough to fix her. After all, his Dynamos were of similar make.

"Do not presume to lay your filthy hands on me." Eve shied from physical contact, and only tolerated them from Rena, who always meant well. She slashed her hand upwards, the commanded spear lashing out in response. Moby and Remy flanked her, their own blades unfurling from behind.