[ It's strange, isn't it? The constant pull of something bigger than you, the ever tightening ribbon of fate pulling you exactly where you need to go at all times. As Zelda looks upon her in wonder, her ancestor inclines her head in a nod, a confirmation with sympathy and apology sewn into her soft smile. It's odd to look upon her and see the features they share; not just the blonde hair but the thick and straight strands, the round and wide shape of their eyes— surely, it betrays all the curiosity they hold for life, too. But most damning is the name, of course: it is an odd feeling to look at this woman and know that it's her name they share. What a horrible curse she's passed onto her. ]

Did something spoil the surprise? [ Her hands come to rest on her hips, and her voice is cheerful, even. She had expected someone... younger, somehow? But they must be the same age, give or take a few years. It's not a particularly good joke, and does nothing to really fix the stunned air between the two of them. As much as she wants to get into an apology for dooming her to a lifetime of struggles, Zelda can't just do that. ]

There's only ever been one Zelda at a time. [ Mostly. ] Things must be very calm here in Reverein, then, right? Since we can meet like this. [ Eagerly, and without any qualms, she closes the distance, getting close enough to see the individual lashes framing Zelda's green eyes, but not close enough to pick out the pores in her skin. Familiarity is just how she communicates. ] Thank you... for helping me. The sickness is very painful for me. But you seem even righter than rain, Zelda.