Emilia doesn't answer him, not right away and not in so many words.
He'll simply feel the warmth of her hand settling over his own. The length of her fingers brush over his knuckles, the grip he has on the table hard enough to turn them white. She has felt anger like this; she has given it a home in her body, has tended to it with the same diligence and care she would her gardens.
He is her mirror, always.
"Yancai moves through time," Emilia says when she finally speaks, recalling Karsa's words. She focuses on giving him answers, focuses on the knowledge she herself would want, first and foremost.
"The village council proposed the short-term alteration of memories to ensure their people would survive the transitions. Their minds — I'm not sure what would become of them."
no subject
He'll simply feel the warmth of her hand settling over his own. The length of her fingers brush over his knuckles, the grip he has on the table hard enough to turn them white. She has felt anger like this; she has given it a home in her body, has tended to it with the same diligence and care she would her gardens.
He is her mirror, always.
"Yancai moves through time," Emilia says when she finally speaks, recalling Karsa's words. She focuses on giving him answers, focuses on the knowledge she herself would want, first and foremost.
"The village council proposed the short-term alteration of memories to ensure their people would survive the transitions. Their minds — I'm not sure what would become of them."