You are Noel Tiberius di Hazaran, warrior-queen of the realm whose name you share, and formerly a single-digit-ranked member of a nameless Organization which fielded silver-eyed monster slayers. Because of how long you’ve been… well, the way you are, you can understand completely why so many people would be scared to death at the sight of you. Those silver eyes are a marker of something not entirely human, and the golden glow they take on when you’ve caught the scent of one of the monstrous yōma is even more of a giveaway that you’re different.

Those eyes are only ever seen among your own kind, as well as among the yōma themselves.

Fear of the unnatural or unknown is only ever unreasonable in terms of degrees. Even here in your own homeland, where even the most ignorant farmboy would know that their queen-regnant bears the silver eyes of a half-blooded warrior, there are some who are not entirely trusting of you or your sisters. In some places outside the kingdom of Hazaran you’ve even faced discrimination – which may have become abuse had you not been so habitually quick to remove yourself from those communities where you experienced it. You also wouldn’t be the only warrior to have seen abuse directed at people who associated with your kind.

But that having been said… Hazaran is and always will be your home.

Marie-Noelle Lagadec is not Hazari. She’s from the other side of the world entirely, which means that she’s a very long way away from home. And she misses it. Even if she’s been told explicitly that you’re dangerous, you know that you can connect with her over that fact.

“While I was still serving the Organization,” you tell her, meaning the local arm of the same organization whose orders have brought her and so many others here, “I spent years away. Of course I missed it.”

“It’s funny,” she muses, seeming to you on the verge of tears. “I didn’t think I could miss that place. I was so desperate to leave it, and now all I want to do is go back.”

You lean forward and rest your elbows on the table between you. “That’s okay. It’s a natural feeling to have, especially given a stressful line of work – you may not be out there fighting, but that doesn’t mean you’re not under stress. In some ways it may be worse.”

“Because many people would assume non-combatants aren’t exposed to stress,” she puts words to your thoughts. “I’ve heard words to that effect.”

“I doubt you’re the only one who feels that way,” you assure her. “I know I’m repeating myself, but it’s perfectly normal.”

Marie-Noelle is quiet for a few moments, taking a few deep breaths before nodding. “Thank you for saying that.”

>I’m going to return you to the others, under guard of course. But if you want to talk again let one of the guards know.
>I want to get all your people home, and to keep my people safe in their homes. Help me accomplish that.
>Other?