Saisri had glanced at the other brother, whom had seemingly collapsed in a laughing fit. For a moment she stood over Atreyu, looking down at him, then backed off a distance, put off by the hatred in his eyes.

When Exon came back with the smaller bride in tow, Saisri met his gaze evenly, allowing him to move her around as he sought her (nonexistent) injury. He focused his unsettling stare on her, and she focused one right back on him, turquoise eyes shimmering softly and a faint smirk on her lips.

“Only that I seem to recall you directly ordered him to not lay hands on me, my lord and the moment he threatened to do so, I felt that I needed to act out of loyalty to you and convince him that it was not a good idea.” Her voice was calm and even, and her gaze continued to linger on his, with only a brief glance at Nadia to ensure the small Fire gem was alright. “So what is your verdict, my lord?”

---

Sia listened to the small Earth gem, a faint smile on her face. “It is a lovely dream, Sorrin. Maybe not one that we will realize at any time in this life, but maybe you’re right, and maybe our gods will reconcile themselves. By the way, Sorrin, though most of my household prays to the Drakken pantheon, I do not expect you to follow in our worship; if you would prefer to follow your own methods of religion, I will not force ours upon you.” Sia also failed to mention the miniature altars to each of the four Gemminite deities that were scattered around the house as shrines that her mother and aunts had worshipped at. Though they hadn’t been used in forty years, Sia had kept them impeccably maintained in tribute of the Gemminite women whom had been part of her household. She knew that many of the servants also prayed to the Gemminite gods. Not that she really cared, it was just a matter of course that she had to know about to know how to phrase certain things to them.

Hearing Valence’s suggestion, the Drakken woman frowned, considering. Lowering her voice as well, she said, “I will, at the least, hear you and your people out. I will not reveal your presence, and even if we cannot come to an agreement I will deny that I ever noticed anything out of the ordinary. It will arouse suspicion if we were to leave Shadow Worth tonight as the passes will be frozen over and its traditional that the males break their brides in here on the same night as the claiming.” Sia looked back to Sorrin with a half-smile. “Another thing you won’t have to worry about, Sorrin.” Then she looked to Valence again, her amber eyes serious. “If your people are safe and comfortably encamped, where they will not die of frostbite in the night, then would a meeting tomorrow morning be acceptable?”

---

Aery resisted the urge to crumble away from the Drakken as he hissed the words in her ear. Oh, gods, this was so backwards. She was revolted, on the one hand, but on the other, a sort of warmth spread up her body at the sexually charged words, at the impossibly strong, yet gentle grip around her waist, the hand cradling her face.

It was with a confused heart that she said, “Of course… but I do not feel as though Darling is exactly the word you want me to use… perhaps you would like for my words to be a little more… charged? Perhaps…. Hmm… How does this epithet suit your dignity, Master?”

Her body pressed against his tightly, her words breathily sensual, a flame of desire in her blue eyes.

The golden-eyed girl looked at her, and perhaps the way her body wrapped around Lugft’s, perhaps, or perhaps her sing-songy voice, was enough cause for rage that the girl’s golden eyes went blood-red and her face set in a murderous scowl.

“I was TRYING to help you! Play along and he’ll go easier on you!” Aery barely breathed the words, then balled up the air and flung it at the fire gem’s head. Of course it was just an air current so it wouldn’t be so easily noticed by everyone, but it would still (hopefully) convey the message. That had been the one part of air magic that Aery had been absolute rubbish at.

The small girl hissed in… pain? Annoyance? Excitement? As her new husband’s massive hand ran across her lower back and then even lower, rubbing, taunting. Her body arched against him against her will and, though her voice was the one making the sound, it did not feel like her mind that whispered, “I do believe that I am hungry… in more ways than one.”

The girl internally recoiled. What was WRONG with her? She shouldn’t be clinging to this massive Drakken, she certainly shouldn’t be… attracted to him. She’d heard enough horror stories about brides to know that any sort of… intimacy with a drakken was often excruciatingly painful for a girl, and that was a normal-sized girl. Being such a small girl with such a massive Drakken, she figured it might be possible for him to kill her just in that first moment.

So why was she here, breathing heavy, face flushed, eyes smoldering, desire making her limbs weak?

---

This was NOT how Miry had envisioned that comment being received. Maybe a bit of a raised eyebrow from Zakroti or from his grandfather. Certainly not this…

The small girl hissed in pain as two guards seized her arms roughly, and a burning line of pain traced down her spine. It took a second for what had just happened to catch up with her, and by that time her dress had been ripped off of her body and incinerated, and pressure was being exerted on her to get her to drop to her knees. She didn’t intend to go easily but the Drakken forced her down with an embarrassingly small effort. Certainly she did not like the posture she had been forced into, every inch of her body on display to the gathered crowd. Though every instinct in her body screamed for her to cover herself the girl forced her arms to remain loosely clasped behind her (no sense bringing another guard down on her back) as Nastaki spoke to her.

The tone of his words and the look in his eyes. Miry would never forget it. He looked at her as if she was, as if she was nothing. An unknown quantity; was it more worth it to keep her alive, or to kill her? Right now the Drakken lord’s expression indicated he would sooner kill her and have her out of the way than he would ever tolerate her.

Miry murmured, “Of course my lord, forgive me for my impudence. I mean no disrespect to you nor to your household.” Then as he turned away she exhaled sharply, her mouth forming the words, “You are nothing more than a bully and I will never respect you for it.”

She dimly realized Zakroti was helping her to her feet, and Ayltam was offering her cloak. Miry took it with a mumbled thanks and wrapped it around herself.

There was at least one good thing about borrowing a Drakken’s cloak; it was long enough to wrap entirely around Miry and encase her from neck to feet. As Zakroti and his two guards took her up the stairs, she noticed she was shivering, trembling so hard her teeth chattered, though she couldn’t tell if it was from rage or fear or cold or all three.

When they got to the storeroom and Zakroti confronted the thief, she cowered behind him. She was distantly ashamed of her cowardice but… she’d suddenly realized that these drakkens were every bit as brutish as they’d been painted as.

A bit of a thought wormed its way into her head. She ignored it, for the moment, as they entered the storeroom. She was quick to find her own belongings; apparently the rabbit in the wicker basket had been odd enough to be set aside. Bunny cringed away from her as she opened the other side of the basket, the side that she had her few changes of clothes in. And also her flute.

When she pulled the cloth satchel out of the basket, her heart almost stopped in relief. The looter, just because he’d put things back, might not have put everything back, and Miry’s flute, with its ornate engravings and elegant design, would have been a pretty trinket to sell or to give to a sweetheart.

She clutched the flute satchel to her chest, then realized she was still nude, and alone in the room with her husband. So she rummaged through the basket more until she found the loose long-sleeved white tunic and skirt that she had been looking for. Unfortunately she didn’t have another corset with her, though she hardly had enough in the way of feminine assets to really need one. She also didn’t have another pair of shoes, which might have wound up being a problem.

Oh. Zakroti had asked her a question. “I just… I just wanted to defend you. Us little people, we have to stick up for each other, because no one else will. Why do you… um… Why do you allow him to grind you down into the ground? He’s a bully, that’s all. I don’t like bullies.”

Miry turned her attention back to her clothing; no sense dithering anymore. She put the tunic and skirt on, then, after a moment’s hesitation, slung the flute satchel over her shoulder. She paused for a moment and unwrapped the protective cloth from around the halves of the flute, fitted them together, and held it up to the light. It was a very pretty device, about a foot long and made of ivory. The ivory was marked with ornate patterns of flowers and trees and streams, and an elaborately curled letter “M” on the mouthpiece. A flute that would have cost a small fortune, but had been a midwinter gift from Anny when they had been… 10 or 11? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Satisfied that her flute had not been lost or damaged, Miry disassembled it and put it back in the satchel, nestling it among the folds of soft cloth that she used to cushion it. One day she really would need to see about getting a wooden case made for it…

The idea that had sprung into her mind suddenly became clear, and the girl smiled, running her hand along the flute satchel. Then she blanked her face and went back to the door. “I hope this outfit is acceptable… besides the one dress I didn’t really bring anything flashy… and I hope it’s okay that I’m bringing my flute. I just… if there was one looter in here there might be more before the night is done and, well, my flute is special to me.” She smiled nervously up at Zakroti.

---

Everything had happened so suddenly. One moment she was being circled by some dirty vultures and the next she was having a piece of surprisingly delicious meat stuffed in her face by some Drakken lord with some manners, though even he was a bit strange. He did not have to treat her so kindly. He was a Drakken and she was a mere Gem. She was forced to be here and he had every right to snatch her away and use force if he needed to. Perhaps she was lucky this time around. "They save the best for last, indeed," she thought to herself with relief. She did not mind too much when he had touched her face or ran his fingers through her hair. He was at least cleaner than most of the Drakkens here nor was he disgusting. In fact, he was fairly young and handsome. But what was that thing he was wearing in front of his eyes? Was it some sort of Drakken fashion statement?

She chewed on the meat and swallowed it, covering her mouth the entire time as not to be rude. After she was done, she curtsied in front of the Drakken lord and the Gem who he had already chosen as his bride. "Thank you for your kind words, my lord. I am Kalani Solle," she replied. "And what shall I call you, my lord?"

She glanced over towards the other Gem who was about a head shorter than her. She was a very beautiful woman who also appeared to be strong-willed. It seems that this Drakken had a type. Hopefully the two of them would get along in the future if they were going to be sister-brides. "It is pleasure to meet you, Sorici." Kalani warmly took both of the Gem's hands in her own. It was obvious to Kalani that she was a Earth Gem as it was very obvious to anyone else that Kalani was a Fire Gem. She could not tell what elements the Drakken controlled over though, not that it made much of a difference.

While she would not admit it right away to herself, she was actually quite fond of the nickname "auburn rose". It was to her knowledge that roses were lovely flowers to gaze upon that also had sharp thorns that cut those careless enough to pluck them. She felt like it suited her.

But she mustn't get carried away by his sweet words. He was still a Drakken and she had to be careful. This wasn't about feelings or love. It was about protecting her people.



@Cubix @SevenStormStyle

"Kalani," he spoke her name once more, lavishing the way every syllable slipped through his lips. "My little auburn rose." Cuwarr nodded to Sorici before drawing his longbow, and plucking out one of the flowers embedded on its limbs. Then, he parted the locks of hair from her left ear, and placed the flower there, safe and sound. "I, Cuwarr Naxremis, will take you as my wife. Kalani of House Naxremis, you are my auburn rose, able to show pride in the face of adversity. You are my shield, to retain hope where there is none." In the same manner as Sorici, he took her left hand, and placed a gentle kiss on it. Then, he turned to his wives with a grin, taking turns in cupping both of their cheeks before planting a long, solemn kiss on their foreheads. "There is meaning in everything we do. Why do we rise? Why do we fight? Why do we kill?" the warlord spoke in a serious voice as he combed some of his blonde locks away from his eyes. "If you cannot answer the 'why' in your duties, then, there is no reason to do it," he shook his head to emphasize a point. "You were brought here forcibly, but more than that, each of you may have your own agenda, and I could care less about your plans. One of you may want to protect their loved ones," he looked at Kalani. "And, the other might want to drive a knife through my neck, and I'd like to see that person try." then, he turned his head to Sorici, the smile vanishing immediately. However, a chuckle echoed from his lips before a wider, warmer grin took residence. "The most important thing is... you have a 'why'. In the same manner that my choosing the two of you has meaning, so should you act as my brides with meaning driving behind your every action. That is the motto of House Naxremis, your new family: meaning in each action. Those who act without purpose do not deserve the Naxremis name. Now, the two of you carry the honor of our House; do bring good things to it."

The warlord couldn't help, but step back from these two brides. There, in front of him were ones he could use to perfect his art. For so long, Cuwarr envied the talent of the gemminite people, and their aptitude for the arts. Each work, each stroke of their tools brought forth a masterpiece. He loathed the limits of his art: shoot enemies, and then what? Nothing! His work... could never stand the test of time. Even steel rusted, even arrows snapped. But, the gems... their paintings, their sculptures were all from ancient times! The ephemerality of his art scared him; oh, it scared down to the bone. What if no one remembered him? What if... they only recall the failures of his father? No. Cuwarr had these gems in his grasp, and he would use them, he would extract everything from them if it means perfecting his art. Soon, when these pigs of Drakka, and these weaklings of Gem will hear the word 'war', they will only remember Naxremis. He will be remembered; Cuwarr promised.

"Oh, before we go any further, I might like to add that you may have ended up with the wrong drakken," Cuwarr tilted his head in mischievous nature. "A lot gave up when they were with me... alone. Honestly, they just cannot seem to last." he shrugged his shoulders before smirking as if he remembered a pleasant memory. "Well, I hope you two will fare better, yes?" The warlord turned around towards the buffet, but before he took a step forward, he spared a glance to his brides. "Come along, my flowers. Please, partake in the meal. You will need the nourishment for tonight's activities. Well, to be more specific, the two of you would need nourishment, or neither of you will last through the night. By now, you must realize that I am one who drives you to the very peak of fulfilment, drawing every inch, every drop from you until your only facial expression will be a gaped mouth." he flashed a dangerous grin at them, one that promised a dark and perilous ride down the one-way trip to ruin. "Now, that I think about it. The two of you can just take turns; it might be better that way."

Then, he took a step forward, smashing into a pillar with a solid thud. He recoiled back, rubbing his nose before he noticing the exquisite design of the pillar with its rings and marble structures. He took a few moments to just stare in awe at the pillar, his mouth opened just enough for a drop of saliva to dribble out. "That's gemminite architecture for you. Magnificent, transcendent! Even the pain is terrific!" he clawed his armor with his fingers before composing himself, and combing his hair back once more. Cuwarr cleared his throat, and straightened his posture. "Come, now, my dear ones."

"I'm honoured that you wanted to. The truth is that I let him do it for the same reason everyone else does: He's a very powerful and very dangerous man and he doesn't take lightly to insolence as you have found. He doesn't want to be part of a family of Unalims, he wants an entire house of Nastakis and none of us live up to his oh so perfect standards. It is far more advantageous to at least retain what little favour, if you can call it that, one can with him for it might take you far. You certainly don't want him as an enemy, regardless of your station in life; As my father learnt, falling out of favour with Nastaki can have dire consequences. Few mortals, even among the Drakken, are cold enough to trade their first born son for a mere possibility of getting a chunk of land, but the Muthseran has a shard of ice for a heart." Zakroti replied with a dark look, turning to face her before realising that she wasn't dressed and turning his head away again "Are you fine to attend this feast? I understand your pride must be bruised after Nastaki's- punishment. If you would rather not attend it can be arranged."

Zakroti turned to face Miry as she dressed herself, glancing her up and down quickly glancing down to the flute in her hands. It was a well crafted thing, worth a counts ransom certainly. He took note of her clothing before glancing to the implement in her grasp, which she appeared to be inspecting. It appeared to be a flute or other such instrument, the lighting was not the best but even from here he could tell that it was a well crafted thing, worth a counts ransom certainly.

He feigned looking away against until she approached before turning to her and listening. She was right, it was not flashy at all. Of course it wasn't; the poor girl was hardly expecting to have her clothes turn from her back and torched by hotheaded knights- at least not in plain view of the entire hall.

"The outfit is perfectly acceptable- What is the saying?- The lady makes the clothing, not the clothing the lady." Zakroti said with a weak smile, cocking a brow as she spoke about the instrument. So it was a flute then and apparently it was of particular note to her. Perhaps it was simply a reminder of home then but in that case he was certain there were far more convenient things in that box of hers. He had overheard details of Mory and Ayltam's conversation earlier and there was certainly no way that someone of her station would have been able to afford that, there was something else to this. "Indeed. If I might inquire as to why it is so special to you? I dis catch a glimpse of it as you examined it and it is certainly valuable but I assume there is something more to it than that. And I will leave Gaikus to guard your other belongings and your pet, lest one of the watchmen decide it would make a tasty treat. If you wish to bring the flute regardless, of course you may."

Zakroti pivoted slightly as he looked her up and down rapidly, tilting his head to the left "If you choose to come to the banquet, I need your word that you aren't going to provoke my grandfather again. We are now treading on thin ice with him this evening, and I would not like to fall through it; Believe it or not from how he has acted towards me, the pair of us are actually on somewhat agreeable terms at the moment, or at least we were before the day began. Now I am not so sure. As I said before if you would rather not attend, Vain can escort you to my room and you can remain there, safe from any further harm, be it to your pride or body."
@RomanAria

Miry listened as Zakroti explained the situation. A faint color came to her face and she ducked her head in embarrassment. “F-forgive me, my lord… I spoke hastily and did not stop to consider the consequences… I promise, I promise it will not happen again. I do not intend to drive any more of a wedge into your family than I did earlier. W-will you allow me to accompany you to the banquet?”

She smiled shyly at the compliment that Zakroti gave to her as he looked her outfit over. “You’re too kind, my lord.” She ran her fingers over the flute satchel again as he mentioned it. “My flute? It, well… I used to be the flutist in the royal orchestra; I was the only player who didn’t use some form of viol. The composers loved me because I’d play anything they’d write for me, even the most off-the-wall crazy solos, and I’d be able to do it in front of the whole city, without blinking an eye... Anyway. Flute was kind of my life, I’d have lessons in it sun-up to sun-down and sometimes later. People would laugh and say that for the amount of time I played my flute compared to the amount of time I talked, they’d have almost thought I was mute. My friend Anny—Princess Annaveya—gave me this for midwinter when I was eleven…I’d written a serenade for her for her birthday but I hadn’t yet performed it, not having a proper instrument to play it on and not wanting to do it injustice, so she commissioned the best flute-maker in the whole kingdom to make it for me. I’d intended to give it back to her after that concert because, well… the likes of this instrument don’t belong in the hands of the, of the likes of me… but every time I tried to, she would take it back, and then I’d find it waiting for me in the practice room the next morning.” The girl shrugged and forced her hands back down to her sides, away from the flute case that she still ran her fingers over.

He was really going to let her take it with her? In the back of her mind his warning played over and over, that the grandfather was not a man to trifle with, that Drakkens as a whole society were not to be trifled with…

But over the top of that played the constant reminders from Liiren.

“The human spirit can be calmed by music alone when words fail.”
“The fastest path to comprehension is through music. To feel is to understand, and nothing provokes more understanding than music.”
“If you cannot find the right words to speak, find the right notes to play. If you cannot find the right notes to play, there is no hope for you in this world.”
“Sometimes in the darkest night, all that is needed is one silver note and the night will turn to day again.”
“You foolish child! The gods blessed you with a gift and you’re going to let it rot and wither? You can bring light to so many people if you just shut up and blow into that white tube in your hands. But no, you’re going to sit there and waste air that could be put to a purpose because you’re too scared of making waves? You of all people, Aymiria, should know how to ride the waves you stir!

A tiny smile settled on the girl’s mouth as her hand went back to the flute satchel.

I will bring light to this fortress of shadows in the only way I know how, and I will not be afraid to let the ripples go where they may.

---

---

Valence smiled, not unpleased with Sia’s treatment to Sorrin. Most of the Gems here tonight would likely hate this day for the rest of their lives- the most horrible night, the precursor to many more like it. And he couldn’t realistically do anything to stop it, without putting him and his men at risk. If his people are caught, tortured, and killed, then there is no one left to fight the Drakken, and the Drakken win.

So he continuing smiling, softly, and replied.

“As you wish, m’lady. Me and mine could stay around here undiscovered, safe, and warm for the next week, if need be, but yes, tomorrow would be fine. We’ll come to you, though. My experience with Drakken is that you are not very subtle- very much larger than us, very much heavier, with bigger feet. You make enough noise to wake a hibernating bear!” He chuckled at that, and continued. “Where do you suggest we meet?”
@WeepingLiberty@RomanAria

Lienna quite enjoyed the miniature spectacle she brought about with her actions. Her appraising looks received confusion and concern(?) in response, leading the Drakken to stoop from his massive height and inspect her further. His intense stare made her insides jump and quiver, and she almost considered aborting her risky mission. However, he soon tore his eyes away, crossing his arms as if he had been dreadfully insulted. Lienna found herself intrigued as to how far she could push this ambitious new suitor.

Her words had an even greater effect: her droll statement about pleasure and sex left him gaping like a young boy watching his canoe sink. A look crossed his face - again turning Lienna’s gut over and making her legs tremble - as if he were considering something with great deliberation. He looked more confused than anything; Lienna felt her heart swell with pride at having apparently flustered a Drakken.

Her risky blade trick drew a much different side of her suitor to the surface. She couldn’t describe what emotion she saw there, only that it reminded her of a cornered wolf, sensing its end and growing fiercer. With the same feral grace her suitor gently took her blade away, holding it up for the light refract through its facets, reflecting onto his face like so many stars. For a moment, he was still.

That didn’t last long.

Too fast for Lienna to stop him (not that she could have, judging by the unbridled strength in his arms) her suitor pulled her close, turning her own blade under her chin. She could feel his eyes boring into her, and it made her gut quiver and her head swim. His previous light humour was gone; the man who held her now barely resembled the one who’d spotted her in the first place.

”Careful now, girl. I like you but insolence will not be tolerated.”

Lienna drew a shaky breath, willing her vision to steady and her constitution to re-firm. She could feel her heartbeat on the blade, its edge pressing ever closer with each rush of blood. It was a strange rush of adrenaline, an odd exhilaration in the danger that she had chosen to dance with. Bizarrely, she recalled a folk tale that her mother had told her as a child, the tale of a sly fox who tricked the bear into freezing its tail off, turning its hungry greed against it.

The Drakken drew her ever closer, uttering a warning as the blade slowly, irresistibly slowly, bit into her flesh. At that moment, an odd warming sensation washed over her wound; the blade was melting, her blood tinting the water red against the pale palm of her suitor.

”It would seem blood is thicker than water…”

Lienna’s eyes narrowed at the statement, confused as to its relevance. Maybe he was simply concluding a thought; perhaps it meant nothing, another quip of humour from the unpredictable creature. Nonetheless, not knowing his meaning bothered her.

Soon enough, the Drakken turned on his heel, his flamboyant nature returning to him, and bade her to follow close. Lienna obeyed without question: She was not about to disagree that the room was teeming with unsavoury sorts who would likely try to snatch up every creature with a rear end and a pulse. She kept close at her suitor’s left side, almost running to keep up with his long stride. He moved with unsettling grace, and he again reminded Lienna of the snowy arctic wolves who crept between the mountains and sang her to sleep during those cold, dark nights. Before she could catch herself, she was staring at him, analyzing his walking pattern, the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to part the crowd with his very presence. He carried an air of easy authority, like a force one could feel pressing on their shoulders with little more than a glance. Ah, of course. She was still missing something.

“My lord,” she cooed, her voice lilting, “Am I doomed to forever refer to you in titles, or do I have the honour of knowing my husband’s name?”

Nadia breathed a sigh of relief as Exon said that he'd let the man live and then smiled as he told her his name. "It's nice to meet you, Exon." As she was led back to the group, she found that she liked her husband's name very much. It was fun to say, to think even. And it was so different from the names of those she knew back in Geminia. It was, rougher, and didn't roll off the tongue the way most Gem names did. It seemed more powerful.

She was shaken from her thoughts as Exon suddenly released her hand and started fussing over Sarsri. Looking around for some hint as to what had happened while she and her husband had been away, she noticed one of Exon's older brothers on the ground at about the same time as Exon himself did. The other brother said something to Exon that didn't quite register in Nadia's mind as she tried to get over the shock of the scene, and wondering what she should do.

She had almost gone over to the fallen brother to help him up, but after the one walked off, she felt Exon take her hand again as he asked Sarsri and his brother to explain the scene. His brother was quick to accuse Sarsri, and Nadia wasn't sure if he would attack her or not. From the look in his eyes he certainly wanted to. Exon seemed to diffuse the situation, at least, his brother left without hurting anyone, although something he said before he left stuck in her mind.

Sarsri spoke next, and if she hadn't been so, calm, Nadia might have believed without a doubt that she was telling nothing but truth. But, the way that she and Exon's brother talked made it seem like they'd both done something wrong. Of course what Sarsri could have done to incite that scene was beyond Nadia, though she may have just been the target of a grumpy Drakken. Once she was done speaking, Nadia turned to Exon and spoke before he could say something, to try and protect her sister-bride, if only slightly.

"Before your brother left he said, "provoked or otherwise," and then with what Sarsri just said... he did something to start this?" She ended the statement as if it were a question, but hoped that Exon would come to the same conclusion himself. Then, looking to Sarsri she asked what was really bugging her. "Are you alright Sarsri?" She may not have any injuries but, Nadia knew there was more to hurting someone than just pain.

Sorrin was happy that Sia stood there actually listening to her speak, as back home not many did. They all thought she was sweet, but many of the people brushed her off as a dimwitted child. She couldn't blame them as sometimes her thoughts were a little scatter brained and naive, but they didn't have to be so rude about it. Here however, Sia listened and took her words into consideration, even offering a counterpoint like a real adult conversation. For the thousandth time Sorrin's eyes were sparkling with admiration, even as she brought up the topic of who she could worship. Even as naive as she was, Sorrin did know that it was quite abnormal for a Gemminite to be able to take their faith with them, or to worship anyone but a Drakken god within the walls of their household. As flattered as she was, Sorrin shook her head with a calm smile.

"If the Gemminite gods could follow me out this far, your lands probably wouldn't still be the way they are. I will certainly pay my respects to them with your permission, however I think it would be nice to learn a little bit about the gods who rule the realm that is to be my new home... Lest my ignorance bring bad luck upon your estate." Sorrin had already learned a few things about the Drakken gods from her teachings of the world's history. Both tales intertwined with each other, so it would be hard not to recognize the names... However as with all things, the Gemminite were baised against the brutish nature the Drakken followed, hence why she was so interested in learning the full story. They couldn't possibly be as bad as everyone made them out to be... Just like Sia wasn't anything like the nightmarish stories, told to scare children no doubt, had led her to believe. Lost in her thoughts she nearly missed the hushed conversation Sia and the strange non-Drakken man were having, getting pulled in by a comment made about breaking brides. She didn't like the sound of it, and the image in her mind was a lot worse than she had inticipated. A shiver running down her spine, Sorrin chuckled nervously before looking around the room at the various Gem girls being shepherded off to gods know what.

@RomanAria

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Arms folded across her chest, Kasari watched on with fascination as Zakroti's bodyguard stormed off in compliance with her request. She knew she held no real authority, and that he only did so because Zakroti offered the solution, however there was something about the situation that made her feel powerful... And it wasn't all that unpleasant of a feeling for her. Yet she found herself wincing as the fighting began, each clang of weapon against sheild or armor a reminder of what she had asked for. Certainly there could have been a better way to terrify the monsters without etting physical, or at least she thought until she remembered where she was. She watched with concern as Kzaar twisted the man over the banister, the pain of the encounter causing the one soldier to yield and his comrade to flee the attacker faster than a rabbit flees from a fox. Finding the display more satisfying than she would have liked, Kasari turned away assuming that the whole thing was behind her. Much to her surprise, they weren't quite through with the man yet.

Thrown to his knees before them, he begged for Zakroti's forgiveness just for them to turn around and put the mercy in her hands. Caught off guard by the situation, Kasari hesitated. It was within this moment of hesitation that she realized something was going on behind her. She caught the tail end of whatever Miry had been saying, but from her tone she could tell that it wasn't anything good. It sounded like a challenge, and to their husband's own grandfather at that. She had to admit that she was impressed by the girl's audacity, but as the words left her mouth Kasari knew her to be in for a world of hurt. As if on cue, the girl was forced to the ground as her clothes were torn from her and burnt. The young fire Gem had to grit her teeth to keep from reacting rashly, her breath quickening from her pent up rage. How could he just treat her like that? Miry might have been in the wrong this time, but that wasn't any excuse for that kind of treatment she had just recieved. Obviously shaken, Miry was wrapped in Ayltam's cloak and escorted away by Zakroti to find new clothing.

Seething with anger, Kasari turned furious eyes back to the man kneeling before her. She might not have been able to take out her frustration on the head of the house, but she sure as hell could blow off a little steam using the pathetic mutt. Fists clenched tightly Kasari hissed as she took a step closer to the soldier, now the one looking down at him.

"You must think I'm some kind of push-over, asking for forgiveness like that. Bullies, the lot of you! And you all just get away with it, expecting us to smile and nod our heads dumbly to every word you say." The temperature around Kasari began to increase dramatically, beads of sweat forming on the soldier's skin as she neared him. Fury filled eyes locked on the menace as she wound her arm back and let it loose. Her fist connecting with the man's nose, she almost cried out as something crunched under the force. WIthdrawing her hand to her chest, she cringed as her bruised knuckles creaked under the violent outburst, but she was rather proud to see blood dripping down from the guys nose. She wasn't sure who was more shocked, her or the soldier, but Kasari wasn't going to let the moment go to waste.

"You touch another Gemminite in your life and I will bring the full fury of Pyrus down upon your head. Now get lost." The fire Gem hissed, now cradling her pulsing hand. Kasari wasn't sure the extent of the damage she had done to herself, but the important part was that she felt a lot better now that she had hit someone who had done her wrong. It must have seemed very backwards for a Gem, but she found those born under Pyrus' gaze tended to be on the more abnormal side... The natural born warriors of her people. Inhaling deeply through her nose, Kasari used her good hand to correct any flaws in her outfit and hair before turning apologetic gazes towards the group that had been watching her little outburst.

"I apologize for my outburst, I'm not usually this... volatile. You have my word that I will be on my best behavior from now on." For a moment she feared that she might incurr the wrath of the grandfather as well for what she did to another of his kind, the girl waiting nervously with her eyes downcast for any sort of reaction from those around her that would hint at her fate.

@Darkwolf687

"Kind? No, but honest. I am pleased to have your company, Aymiria." Zakroti replied with a curious look in his eye. Something was wrong about this, about her movements and that little smile she wore. Or maybe that was just his mind again, he could never be sure. Perhaps she was simply thinking about playing again or remembering these old things she was telling him. Yes, that had to be it for what else could it be? What was he expecting, that a small girl like her was going to beat someone too death with a flute of all things? Of course not.

He did his best to set his misgivings aside, though they are at the back of his mind and crept back into his thoughts.

"A royal orchestra? I have heard of such things, large ensembles of instruments that play complicated music and are orderly and composed. I imagine only the very best would play in such an institution. I would like to hear more about this- orchestra at some point. And I would like to hear your play."

After a few moments he opened his mouth to speak again, a joking smile on his lips as he considered what she had to say about her playing. "But what a great many surprises this day is bringing, when I go to take a pair of brides I acquire a confident young musician with a beautifully crafted instrument and an experienced dancer with such odd choices of clothing. Vivari preserve me, next I shall acquire a fool, if I am not fulfilling that role myself considering the circumstances, and complete this fair. Then what will my grandfather say."

Zakroti motioned for her to follow and led her down through the halls and talking to her as they went "How well do you know the princess, if you call her your friend?" Zakroti asked, turning his head back towards her to reveal an inquisitive look on his face, his brow furrowed slightly. She had to have known her very well; one wouldn't spend such money on anyone, surely.

Finally, they reached a pair of doors and two guardsmen opened them before him. They entered the banquet hall, which was in the process of having its tables covered with food by rushed servants...



Kzaar released his grasp around the warriors throat and shoved him to the side. For several seconds the Drakken grasped for breath on his knees before finally stumbling back to his feet, looking up to Kasari before turning his head towards Kzaar

"My lord has eyes far and wide; You would do wise not to disobey my lady." Kzaar growled to the injured Drakken, who nodded back miserably as he skulked away, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. Kzaar kept his eyes on the warrior until he was out of sight, then turned to face Kasari

"Ha, so long as you are not going to make a habit of punching people, my lady; We may be free to exact violence here at the Wroth but when we return to the west- Justice is more vigilant." Kzaar grunted with what sounded like approval. Ayltam cast a short glance over to him before looking back to Kasari, her eyes darting down to the girls hand; She had been cradling it just moments before and so she supposed that Kasari had injured it when she had punched the warrior.

"It must be a taxing occasion, I cannot even begin to imagine shat this whole thing must be like for you so such volatility is understandable- I suppose ultimately Zakroti will decide whether it is or not but- I think that he will say something similar. But please do be; It's not good to upset my great grandfather, as you have seen he can be fairly- excessive. Your hand- is it injured?" Ayltam asked with a slight incline of her head and a furrowing of her brow. She had crossed her arms to stave off the cold now that she had lost her cloak, clearly not used to the mountains and their cold climate.

Kzaar motioned for the group to follow and went towards the doors on the far side of the hall. Again, two guardsmen opened them up and allowed the group access into the halls beyond.

After passing through the doors, the small congregation were met by Zakroti, Aymiria and Vain. Zakroti opened this mouth to speak to them but was cut off by another voice; He turned to see his brother standing there beside him

"Hilyat, an Muthseran gaiar kala epe ma odzi."

"Kala epe ma odzi? Ha. Epe kala odzi." Zakroti replied with a light chuckle. Qeynate grinned in response and led the group over too where Zakroti's grandfather sat, the food taster by his side and already at work. Nastaki looked towards the two brides with his intense stare for a few seconds before looking up to Zakroti

"Sev. " Nastaki said, motioning to the chair beside him "Your brides too, on your left side." Zakroti complied with the command, sinking into the chair slowly and cautiously, motioning for Aymiria and Kasari to sit as well "Do you remember your tutelage?"

"I do."

"'An ogim-bar tri o kaoz, o xarxkaoz; karaza tormas ma mishaxi a anga O mittazeoz. O hilyatoz an tor tormas. O sepoz grunis an torze tormad. An Aranhame a an Osh o kalasevoz kzi mu'doon; Alduris o shantaoz. An Aran a an Ish o edeoz. Kala-" Nastaki began; Zakroti knew it all by heart and after it had registered he cut in to finish it off

"-An seran ush norhame o hilyatoz. O shantaoz, O mitta shakaoz. I know it." Zakroti affirmed.

"Then what is the last sentence and who said it?" Nastaki said with a small smile, looking down towards his grandson

"Naan Aran gais gaiar Kala epe geho o meh, oris o hilyatoz, zela geh hilyatew. It was said by Kastaki the Great." Zakroti replied with a small frown. He hoped his grandfather wasn't about to launch into another lecture, that was the last thing he needed at this time.

"Kastaki a acta Unalim."

"Odzi Unalimi zan aranize. Unalim zan muthserani." Zakroti replied with a slow shake of his head.

"Unalim a gais odzi mitta ta. Zu odzi mitta ta seran, ta a seran. Zu odzi mitta ta seranivre, ta a zan seranivre." Nastaki responded with a degree of anger and annoyance in his voice, mixed with pride and determination.

"Wre jusla epeoz niz yui." Zakroti noted with a light nod to affirm what his grandfather was saying; he was right of course, greatness was never achieved by one saying that they were not great and giving up. Things often wwre as you made them, not including lifes misfortunes. "Why do you bring it up now?"

"The count of Seychest, Adhelm Capek, a vassal of house Azinmur, has had his son vanish on the road in Gemminia. It is his first born and his heir."

"Azinmur? Do you suspect Isilmur?" Zakroti said with a frown. Azinmur and Isilmur descended from the same household in the distant past, both lay claim to the others territory and declared themselves to be the descendants with the strongest claim. Isilmur was more friendly with Unalim than Azinmur was. Azinmur had been in steady decline ever since the loss of their most profitable duchy, Karin, to Nastaki some thirty years ago but if was conceivable that Isilmur was growing impatient and were hoping to coerce house Capek using hostages, Seychest being the largest remaining Azinmur vassal it would certainly be a major boon if Isilmur wanted to accelerate the decline.

"No, he was firmly past the Wroth when he was last seen, planning on passing through the mountains of the region. Gem territory" Nastaki explained with a grimace. Zakroti cocked an eyebrow in response to this as he put two and two together

"And as house Azinmur is crumbling, they are no longer capable of dealing with this; They cannot protect what vassals they have left. You want them to be our vassals instead. There's just one problem; Vassals cant just switch liege lords, it defeats the entire basis of the system. They have sworn fealty."

"Azinmur is collapsing. They have nothing left, they are dukes in name alone. Already their vassals have begun to defect from them; The entire County of Allesia defected to Isilmur and several of the barons of Milander swore fealty to Karstagg. Azinmur can bring up all the oaths it wants, nobody is listening any longer. If we want to make Unalim greater, we must capitalise on this opportunity."

"You hope that if we do this favour on the counts behalf and have the Gem Lords find his son he will swear fealty to us instead. We would have to keep a very close eye on him if that is the case; defectors might defect again, once you have broken one such agreement why not break others."

"Yes, he has asked himself and the Gem Lords found, or at least they claim to have found, nothing while the Drakken lords of the border didn't even care so much as to send a response. I will have them send out search parties. I doubt they will refuse our request. You have Gems in your employ, yes?" Zakroti shifted in place and glanced cautiously around before leaning in and whispering

"Grandfather, do you wish everyone to know of that? You know there are ears everywhere. I have some agents in Gemminia, yes; You wish me to have some search for his son. This I can have them do." He whispered to him, glancing to Qeynate as the young Drakken spoke

"Only our men are near us now, I feel we can trust them." Qeynate commented with a small chuckle.

"Gais numad an 'brides'?" Nastaki replied with a grunt, casting another cold glance towards Aymiria in particular as he spoke. Zakroti paused and turned his head towards them, before looking back to his grandfather and nodding lightly.

"Gehdzi zan juze kala ro naan redia, o ulma. Zela gehdzi vru?" Zakroti replied and waited for his grandfathers response. Nastaki paused for a few moments in apparent consideration before nodding and speaking again

"Zela gehdzi vru. I shall inform Capek of our decision and write the letters to the lords. Zakroti will have orders sent in the morning. Qeynate, you will send a handful of men to support the search efforts. That is all." Nastaki reached out and picked up the goblet, drinking from it.

Zakroti turned back towards Ayltam, who was sat across from him with Vain standing a few paces behind her, and gave a short sigh.

"Kasari jorloz an kaan lia." Ayltam commented quietly, before continuing "Kasarieiz zyro- geh camoroz an kaan va an barjeh."

"Arvar." Zakroti said in response, turning slowly to face Kasari and cocking an eyebrow curiously. "Is this right? Did you punch one of the guards in the face? I suppose I should probably have expected as much from a fire gem. Please tell me more about this, I'd like to hear your reasoning behind it all."

@WeepingLiberty@RomanAria

Exon frowned at his spirited wife. "Regardless of what happened, you handled the situation poorly. Even if my brother was at fault and you defended yourself, he could kill you, and nothing would happen to him. Keep that in mind," He glanced around as most of the other couples ventured off towards the dining hall. "It is time to go in," He said, taking Nadia's hand and Saisri's arm and leading them off to the hall.

Nadia stayed close to Exon as they walked to the banquet hall, not wanting to be taken from him again. The crowd had grown denser since she'd been chosen, and she could barely see the walls of the room through the wall of people around them. The crowd thinned out a little as they entered the next, considerably larger room. Only those who had chosen their brides were here yet, and so most of the seats around the large tables were empty.

Looking around the room, while it was still of Gem design, it was not quite as extravagant as the Choosing room had been. And perhaps that was better. While the Choosing room was beautiful, Nadia had never really seen anything like it back in Gemmina. This room reminded her of the buildings in the town, beauty and comfort in simplicity. Of course, the Drakken ruined any illusion she could have made to herself that she was back home, as she noticed Exon's two brothers over at a buffet next to the wall.

"Exon, your brothers are over there." She started after getting her husband's attention, motioning over to where she saw them. "Should we go over to them?"

Saisri sighed internally, but tried to appear somewhat engaged in what was being said, at least enough to pull off a reasonably contrite expression. "Sorry, my lord, it won't happen again." Despite her best effort she couldn't keep the mischievous tone entirely out of her voice, a lilt that said she didn't intend to make good on her promise.

Unlike her sister-bride, Saisri pulled as far away from Exon as she could, her eyes never leaving the people swarming around them. She loved being surrounded by people, like she was a salmon packed into a pool of sparkling water with several hundred others. Just the thought of it made her mind calm down entirely, her heart rate finally settling to normal after the encounter with Atreyu.

The architecture held no special significance for Saisri. Her family had never really been one to stay in a village for too long; they had their farm and their lake and would only come into town very rarely, when they needed things. She had never liked the architecture, though; everything had seemed to cluttered and compressed with all of the attempted grandeur and elegance. Give her an open meadow with a river in it over an enclosed, ornate palace any day.

"I can see them My light," he said, glancing over at his brother, before looking back at Nadia. "And, let's hope that they choose to stay over there and drink themselves silly. I do not think that my brother, or your sister-wife would do well to be...near each other," He pulled his wandering wife closer to him, holding tight enough that there would be Exon-sized finger print bruises there.

Sorry M'lord, it won't happen again " I doubt even you believed that," He said, shaking his head. "Come on then, my little love," his voice more than a little snarky. "Let us sit before all the good spots are taken," He said, taking his new brides off towards one of the higher seats near a corner spot.

Bride of Azilon @WeepingLiberty and Sister wife of Aeila @NarcissisticPotato

Rya applied what felt like the thousandth layer of beeswax to her dry lips. The mountain passes air was so much dryer than her humid home near the swamp. One of her captors, no...transporters, a captive could be rescued, had offered it to her when they had started their ascent to the choosing castle. Rya had found his kindness...rather suspicious. Seeing how his carriage now had a gaping hole in the side now from one of her fists. It wasn't like she was trying to be aggressive or destructive, it was just that...well being kidnapped and sold off as a wife to a stranger was a rather emotional journey. There were a lot of emotions that one went through. It was normal, healthy even. This one just caused her to punch a hole through the carriage and rip a few holes in the seats. And break the window. And scream profanities at everything and everyone.

She probably got off easy with a slap to the back of the head ("We don't want to bruise that pretty face of your's") and a few harsh words because it was clear that she wasn't trying to escape. But it did slow their travel down by a day as they had to take her to a healer to have her hand treated. Even now, it was still covered by a white bandage and, even though she was told not to, she couldn't help but take the wrappings off every now and again to admire the number she did on herself. Nothing that wouldn't heal, just bruising and a few scratches in places. It was nice to know that, despite all the guards, they were unable to stop her from doing that. It was almost like having control, although not a way she would choose often, she wasn't a fan of pain.

There were many other emotions that followed, a strange happiness, acceptance, anger again, sadness. Right now, as the castle appeared, growing ever closer, it was nausea. Her stomach rolled with nerves and fear. The choosing was not something that had been explained to her in depth, no one wanted to talk about it. Sure, she knew the gist. Show up, get choosen, live the rest of one's possibly short life in depressing servitude. But knowing the basics brought no comfort to her. Finally, she could bare it no more "Please, we have to stop, I think I am going to be sick," she said. There was silence. "No, I'm serious please," Finally a voice responded.

"We can't stop, we'll miss it,"

"Please, just a moment,"

"No,"

Perhaps it was the gagging noise that finally made them stop. But a moment later, Rya was touching the hard earth, coughing her guts out. But the strength of the earth help calm her down enough that she was able to be escorted the rest of the way without issue, although her stomach still rolled.

When she got to the castle, Rya could hear voices, mostly male, ringing in the night. She was rushed through a back door, a guard mentioning to another captor "Almost thought you weren't going make it, better hurry, they are almost done in there." Rya was then stripped and dunked unceremoniously into chilled water and scrubbed down before she even got a chance to worry about modesty. Her hair was then roughly brushed and sweet smelling oils were placed in it as well as over most of her body. That caused her to feel as though every step would cause her to slip. Then, with her arm dressing re-applied, all that was left was to dress her.

The dress had been her mother's second best dress. Her mother's best dress had been her wedding dress. But, without words, it was decided between the two of them that Ayr should get it for her future, happy, wedding. This one was cut just above the knees, so it would be worn outside, without fear of the soft earth ruining the hem. A soft, green color with green lace covering almost the entire thing. The only pair of shoes Rya brought were her leather ones, the ones she had been wearing when she'd come back from the swamp before she was taken. Instead of matching her mother's beautiful dress with her work shoes, she decided to go without. The stone, while cold, was helping with the nerves anyway. It was a shock to see how well the dress fit her, the last time she wore it, the dress had hung off her shoulders and, despite being short, could still touch the floor.

As soon as she was dressed, barefoot, bandages and all, Rya was forced on to a staircase that lead into a...she could only describe it as a ballroom. As she walked down the stairs, she noticed that many of the gems were...already claimed (there was no other word for it) and their future husbands( and, in one case wife ) were standing over them aggressively proactive. By the time she had reached the floor, the feeling of nausea had returned. Only this one was lead on by another wave of anger at everything and fear for her future. Instead of waiting to be stormed, she started walking, not that she had a purpose or a destination, but... perhaps if she look like she did, then maybe they would all just leave her alone.

Miry couldn’t help but smile at Zakroti’s comment about hearing her play. It only strengthened her resolve to carry out her little plan…

“I would be honored to perform for you someday, my lord.”

When he mentioned the princess Miry shrugged a bit, not much feeling like relating the long (and rather boring, as she privately thought) tale. “It’s a long story… best told another time, perhaps.”

Upon entering the hall and catching sight of the other half of the Unalim party, Miry first approached Ayltam, offering the neatly-folded cloak. “Thank you for letting me borrow it.” she said.

Then she looked to Kasari, her eyebrows drawing together slightly as she took in the way the tall girl cradled her wrist, her knuckles bruised and swollen, eyes full of fire.

Nervously the small girl stepped closer, holding her hands out and slowly taking Kasari’s injured hand in both of hers. The girl’s skin was almost painfully hot, as though she had been using her element. Miry called to the nearest source of water, probably a pitcher being carried by a servant, if the indignant yelp was anything to go by, and drew a small amount of the liquid over her hands and across Kasari’s skin, over her wrist and palm. Of course some of the water vaporized but eventually Kasari was left with what looked like a clear, shimmery glove that would be cooling the area. “I don’t know the first thing about resetting bruised joints or dislocated fingers, but this is a trick I learned to dull the pain in my fingers when I’d been practicing for too long.” She smiled up at the taller girl and then retreated a few steps to stand next to Zakroti again, bowing her head.

Miry was no stranger to seeing crowds of servants, but something about the sheer spread of the banquet struck her as awe-inspiring. She frowned for a moment as she observed the scene before her… there was someone sitting next to Zakroti’s grandfather, taking a bite of each of the foods…? Was… Was this family so dangerous that they had to be this paranoid, even at a social gathering?

Hearing the grandfather’s command, she sat down in the seat immediately to Zakroti’s left. Or rather, tried to sit down. The chair, being Drakken-sized, was far too tall for Miry to comfortably sit in. She had to jump to get onto the chair, and even once she’d got seated on the chair, her chin was at the level of the table. With an irritated sigh the girl folded her legs under herself and rose up onto her knees, so that she was kneeling on the chair, and now at a more normal height. At least to the point where her chin wouldn’t drag in her food… this was one of the many times that Miry had noticed that her height was a detriment.

Miry frowned, concentrating on the exchange between Zakroti and his grandfather. It was some sort of… proverb? From the bored way that Zakroti recited it, clearly one that had been drilled into his head close to a thousand times. She tried to follow the foreign tongue but couldn’t seem to; then, abruptly, they switched back to the common tongue.

She took note of what they were talking about, though she had no idea who the people in question were or why this was important… abruptly she was distracted by a shudder running up her spine. Miry instinctively looked up from the table, right into Nastaki’s cold gray eyes. He had switched into the other language but the word “brides”, at least, was crystal clear.

She held his gaze evenly until he looked away to Kasari, holding a little smirk on her mouth and her eyes carefully blank. Though she knew he was only looking away because he couldn’t be bothered to focus on her, it still felt like a victory.

Miry’s eyes dropped to the table as the conversation moved onto other topics. Not that she was bored, she just… had other things on her mind. Her flute was jabbing into her side, so she adjusted the strap. As she did she felt eyes on her; she scanned the room until her eyes lighted on…

Well, this was unexpected. Astrae Silverheart. One of the violists from the orchestra; she’d never been more than an acquaintance in Miry’s eyes, though she’d certainly been kind. They just hadn’t ever spent enough time together that wasn’t rehearsal time to really bond.

Judging by the spreading bruise down Astrae’s neck, that Miry could see even from halfway across the room, her Drakken had not been too pleased with her. Astrae looked at her, right at her, with pleading eyes and brought both hands to the side of her mouth, miming flute-playing. The massive drakken whom sat next to the girl noticed, and thumped her on the side of the head, sending her sprawling. Miry internally hissed in sympathy though she kept her outside expression blank, lest Zakroti or Nastaki realize what she was thinking.

She scanned the crowd. In just a few minutes all of the servants had completely vanished, the feast laid out on the tables. Almost all of the Drakken were here, with all of their brides, at the tables and generally behaving themselves as well as could be expected.

Miry hesitated for a moment… the last thing she wanted to do was cause more problems. But there was Astrae, looking terrified, other brides with makeup streaks down their faces, hugging themselves or each other.

“The human spirit can be calmed by music when words fail.”

Miry wasn’t entirely aware of what she was doing as she unfolded herself from the table, muttering some excuse about needing to go relieve herself. Of course, the emptiness of those words was revealed the moment she stood up from the table and walked towards the center of the massive room. As she did she removed the halves of her flute from the satchel across her body and fitted them together, warming the instrument in her hands.

Stopping exactly in the middle of the room (and as far away from all of the tables as she could be), Miry paused for a moment, at attention, holding her flute vertically in front of her (until she was sure that most of the people in the room would be looking at her). She heard a person behind her draw breath as if to perhaps shout for the guards, and so she snapped the flute down to playing position, drawing in a breath as she did so. A quick race up the scale, the tone of the flute surprisingly loud even in the large room, was surely enough to draw the attention of people, and to stop the Drakken behind her from yelling for the guards. Miry felt a flash of nervousness but suppressed it; she’d performed for bigger audiences than this before. Granted, she’d never performed for an audience that could snap her neck in a fraction of a second, but she figured she just had to play well enough to stun them.

Before the echoes of the scale had entirely faded away, Miry had settled on a song. The melody that she’d known she was going to pick anyway; the fanfare of the Gemminite royal family. The boisterous, bright scales and high staccato notes floated out of her flute almost on their own… how many concerts had she played this fanfare at, anyway? Five hundred? Not even counting the countless hours of rehearsal spent perfecting them.

As the last note cut off crisply, Miry opened her eyes. A good number of the brides (And Drakken) were staring at her with their mouths open. Before the spell was broken, before everyone started moving around again, she turned to face the dais, holding her flute at attention in front of her chest, and curtsied deeply.

“Your highness, your graces, my lords and ladies, it has been an honor to perform for you tonight.” Miry was proud of her voice for not shaking, for projecting as clearly and loudly as it did. Then she stood up to her full height and scanned the crowd.

Astrae was smiling, her eyes brimming with tears; the black-haired girl stood up, clapping, but managed that for less than two seconds before her drakken lord seized her by the neck. Miry couldn’t look away as the Drakken calmly picked Astrae up with his one hand, and with a twist of his fingers, snapped the girl’s neck, the sick crack echoing through the room. Then the lord dropped Astrae’s now-lifeless body, which hit the floor with a wet thud, and leaned back again in his chair and raised his wine goblet, almost in a salute to Miry, and took a long drink.

Miry was frozen in shock and horror. For a second she couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks and she stumbled slightly, face having turned bone-white.

She didn’t much care about how juvenile it must look, she just… had to get out of there. If she wasn’t in the room then surely the lords would forget what had happened…what she’d caused… right?

She turned on her heel and ran from the room, shoving through the massive doors. She had no idea where to go so… she ran for the stairs to the storeroom, the one place she could think of where she might really be alone. As she bolted up the stairs, bare feet catching painfully on the rough wood of the steps, she figured she might be crying but couldn’t actually tell. Her ears still rang with the cracking of Astrae’s neck, her body thumping on the floor, how in seconds she’d gone from the vivacious performer to… well, to dead.

Miry had forgotten there was a guard at the storeroom door, but she pushed past him without a word, going into the room and kneeling down next to her basket. Setting her flute carefully on the floor in front of her (not trusting her shaking hands enough to try to pull it apart without dropping part of it and breaking it) she reached into her basket and pulled Bunny out. The white-furred bunny looked at her in the light from the dust-covered window, pink nose twitching; with a cry Miry wrapped her arms tightly around her pet, burying her face into Bunny’s soft fur and petting her head and ears with shaking fingers.

She was definitely crying now, her whole body shaking with sobs. “I killed Astrae, I kill..k-k-killed Astrae, I can’t… I don’t… I n-never wanted a-a-anyone to—to d-die… Liiren… Liiren l-lied… music doesn’t bring… m-music doesn’t make p-people h-happy, it makes them kill each other, i-it’s my f-fault… I’m s-sorry… I’m s-s-sorry, A-Astrae… I d-didn’t… I j-just wanted to make you sm-smile, I just… I’m s-so-so-rry...”

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Master Husband of Aerienna Cassiel @RomanAria and Atalia Faeron [@NarcississticPotato]

Lugft could hardly believe his eyes and ears at Aery, the small girl wrapped around him tightly with her voice breathy and full of need, “Of course… but I do not feel as though Darling is exactly the word you want me to use… perhaps you would like for my words to be a little more… charged? Perhaps…. Hmm… How does this epithet suit your dignity, Master?”, as she spoke Lugft had to hold back a wide grin. He seemed to have already gotten one of his wives begging for him with but a few actions and words, and his presence of course. He still held her rump tightly as he spoke to her, the sensual tone in his voiice quite clear, "Oh Aery, I believe that epithet suits me quite well... master I will be then my dear, and you my perfect little bride.", he spoke each word quietly into her ear as he continued groping the small girl. As they entered the lavishly decorated dining room Aery spoke of how she was hungry in more ways than one, causing Lugft's eyes to widen at her like a predator would look at its wounded prey, "Well my little Aery, then you will be filled in more ways than one... all in good time. And what of you spitfire? Are you... prepared for the meal to come?", he chuckled quietly as they made their way to a table.

He gingerly helped both of his wives into their large chairs before sitting down himself, and pulled both of them close to him. He had questions for them after all, and no reason to be far apart. He had chosen a table that had been empty, hoping that he would not be bothered by any other Drakken whilst he conversed with his nnew brides, "The food is absolutely amazing my darlings, but is there anything you want particularly? Pork or poultry, or anything else is at your beck and call. I am certain such meals were not available where you were born, were they?", he wondered if either came from wealth, or if this was their first taste of true extravagance.

Then, he saw his bride Aery's twin sister walk to the center of the room and free her flute, "Aery is that not your sister?", he asked, watching her with an eyebrow cocked. As she began to play the Royal Gem fanfare Lugft could not help but chuckle, what an interesting way to rebel. He watched enraptured by her little act of rebellion. As she finished he considered clapping patronizingly, until he heard the snap of a small neck after one of the brides began clapping. He sighed, what a waste of a bride so quickly, as he watched Aery's sister go white, before running from the room. He chuckled, and raised his own glass to drink from, before offering it to Aery, "Quite the show your sister put on for uus hmm?", and then, the meal began in earnest.

Things seemed to drown out in the noise of the room and without much effort, the sounds of his words were lost on her. She didn't want to hear them so her mind blanked them. Her fate was an obvious one - she wouldn't be able to tolerate such a sickeningly wretched Drakken and she would try to kill him sooner or later and after that? Well, if she was lucky, he would kill her. Her mind seemed lost in those thoughts when his massive claws gripped her arm and dragged her forward. Not expecting it, her feet were caught out and she tipped forward, landing square in his chest. With furrowed brows, she realised that listening to him would probably save her some humiliation at the least. "Tsk, tsk, tsk Gem, it is not smart to deny a Drakken what he wants, Aery knows that," He squeezed the other girl's rear again as if to prove himself right before launching into his next monologue. "but it appears you will have to be taught... good. Good thing I wasn't looking for another Aery hmmm? If I had been I would have taken her twin as well. Now, whats your name Spitfire?"

She stopped at that, confusion etched onto her features. Who was she? Did that question even matter anymore? In a few hours she was going to become a plaything for some Drakken lord. Her family would weep and bitterly remember her taking but they would forget within a generation and the cycle would continue. It didn't matter who she was because she could be whoever she wanted to be. If he was going to destroy what she was, she was going to at least hold the privilege to rebuild herself. "My name..." She whispered, a harsh frown set into her features.

“I was TRYING to help you! Play along and he’ll go easier on you!” The other bride spoke but he apparently didn't hear it whatsoever. She had heard about that sort of magic before and although she didn't trust this other girl who apparently seemed to encourage her own rape, Atallia didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

"My name is Tal." She answered, eyes raising to her new husband. If she wanted to play a game then Atallia would gladly play but only by her own rules. There was a danger in those eyes, as if she was intentionally pushing him to hurt her; there was a fire there that breathed gently in a warm golden bath.

After that, things became a blur. They made their way to the main hall in preparation for a great feast and the two which she was stuck with seemed to grow closer and closer until they were practically going at it already. Atallia ignored them for the most part and wandered of her own accord. Nothing particularly interesting happened until a few minutes later when one of the Gems stood in the middle of the room and proceeded to play some tune. Atallia briefly remembered it being some royal song but she wasn't particularly interested - the Royals were a corrupt lot, apparently void of the same choosing they were all subject to. What interested her was when another girl climbed to her feet and began to applaud the girl. She barely even had time to turn when an audible snap echoed around the room and the applauding fell silent. She felt the fire come crashing back, angry and emblazoned with dark intents. Her hands bit into the hardwood of the chair's arms. Her eyes slowly fell to a carvery knife sitting right in front of her and as she leaned forward, her eyes blinked round to find his, harsh and demanding.

Kasari nodded her head sheepishly, though she was internally pleased that the large warrior seemed to find her actions amusing rather than insulting. After what she had just done, she was fairly certain she couldn't be doing it again... Or at least not for a while. Besides, tonight's outburst was caused by the guards mistreating of her family... Unless her new family or those around them planned to do her or her loved ones harm, Kasari would be on her very best behavior. After being warned by Ayltam, the Drakken girl seemed to notice her slightly trembling hand with a look of concern. Not wanting to seem weak or needy, Kasari shook her head and smiled.

"It's just a little sore, nothing to worry about. It'll heal up itself in no time." She tried to reassure the girl, though she wasn't sure she believed the words herself. Nothing felt out of place, but the pain was almost enough to ring tears to her eyes. Shaking away thoughts of the injury, Kasari took note of Ayltam's slight shiver seeing as she had given up her own cloak to cover Miry. She stepped closer to the Drakken girl and focused on the air around her, trying to heat it up to a comfortable temperature as gratitude for the kindness shown to her kin earlier. Having everything in place, the group moved toward the doors on the far side of the room though to where Kasari would not know until they had passed through them. On the other side was a banquet hall full of various foods, some she recognized and others that were completely foreign to her and her people. It was certainly a sight to behold, one that she have to wait to admire as she was ushered forward to meet up with Zakroti and Miry who had arrived at the same time as they had.

Approaching the group Kasari was yet again met with concern over her hand. She looked down at it wondering what all the concern was about. Apparantly it had started bruising when she wasn't looking, making it look much worse than it felt... Though it didn't really feel good to begin with so there wasn't much to say about that comparison. Before she could protest, Miry was fast at work encasing her hand in cool liquid, much of which fled from the heat of her skin, but some managed to stick around as it served its purpose. Kasari sighed gratefully, nodding her head in thanks.

"This will do just fine, thank you." She smiled at her sister bride before waiting to be directed, not quite sure of the dining customs of the Drakken people. As if on cue, the grandfather dictated their seating arrangements to them which Zakroti was quick to comply with. Following suite, Kasari took the seat next to Miry doing her best not to laugh at the comical sight beside her. The poor girl was so small that she appeared like a doll sitting at the grown up table. Kasari herself wasn't much taller, but her height allowed her to sit normally in the chair with little difficulty other than the vast amount of space around her on the chair. The conversations being had a few chairs down were lost on her, as she couldn't understand a word of what was being said. Even if she could understand the words themselves, she doubted that she would understand the meanings or why the conversation was relative so she tuned them out. Using this moment she began to look around, gawking at all the different kinds of food lining the table. Her stomach snarled greedily as the scents drew her forward, her good hand outstretched to pick a familiar fruit of a platter before her name called her attention.

She wasn't sure who said it first, all she knew was now Zakroti was questioning her about her encounter with the Drakken guard. Clearing her throat she withdrew her hand and grimaced.

"I am sorry about that. I know your grandfather is already a little aggrivated this evening, I hope I didn't make it worse." Kasari started before continuing with the actual explanation of the events.

"You're already aware that those guards were the ones that... escorted me from my home. When my brother spoke up against them taking me, that man knocked him out and threatened to do terrible things to my mother if anyone tried anything like that again. As you can imagine, it's rather hard to forget something like that when you're being dragged along by the same men for days. I probably would have been satisfied with just his begging for mercy, but after seeing your grandfather's preference for punishment... I was just so angry. I didn't realize what I was doing until I had already done it." She explained as a sheepish grin spread across her face, the girl holding up her still shimmering wrist for him to see.

"Which brings me to my next apology. I seem to have slightly injured my hand during the altercation... But don't worry about it, I'll be fine. It just needs a little bit of time, that's all." Kasari waited to see what Zakroti would say about her little slip up, though when that would occur, she had no idea as there was a new distraction in the room. Music. Kasari was surprised she hadn't noticed Miry stand up, but there she was playing her flute for the whole group. It was a beautiful song, one that any Gemminite in the room would recognize, and a performance even a Drakken could appreciate.... Or so she thought. As one of the brides clapped for the performance, her neck was snapped and her body dropped like she were nothing. Kasari's heart dropped, a look of horror crossing her features as she looked back at Miry. The poor girl looked shattered as she bolted from the room, Kasari's own hands shaking as she turned her gaze downward. Whatever was left of the soothing water vanished in a cloud of steam as Kasari ground her teeth together.

"He didn't have to do that. It was unnecessary and cruel." She hissed, all feelings of hunger vanishing like the water had.

@darkwolf687

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Azilon sighed, closing his dark eyes as he returned his posture to its straightened position. The poor girl was already scared and he had just gone and scared her even more by showing up the way he had. He figured she would forgive him in time, it all depended on how aware of her situation she was. Surprisingly enough though, it seemed that she was quite aware of her position and was not going to readily trust a creature like him. Smart. Peering down at her, he had to admit her response impressed him a bit. As terrified as she obviously was, she maintained her composure and responded in a way one would expect from a Drakken... Blunt and void of any useful information, strong despite being on the small side. He debated internally for a moment how he was going to respond before he decided to speak.

"Pretty bold for a little sprite, but you seem to be mistaken about something. See, you suggest I seek out your brother as if I'd know who that was but you yourself have failed to provide a name. I simply asked so that I may return you back to where you belong in one piece, but I see my good intentions have been misplaced. I'll leave you to your thoughts then, if you need me I'll be somewhere over there minding my own business." Taking a step back, Azilon increased the distance between himself and the small girl. Immediately the more bold Drakken of the group inched forward, hungry for a taste of the girl regardless of her heritage.

"Oh, and whomever your brother might be, tell him the Dantanath household sends his regards." And with that he turned away as if finished with the girl, his cloak rustling about as he moved to return to the wall in which he had abandoned.

It almost seemed that every word that was uttered from his mouth hammered her deeper and deeper into the ground until she was left wide-eyed and more than confused on what was actually going on. His presence was terrifying and she knew that just by standing there he was holding back on something but almost like her brother, he didn't seem to pose any immediate harm to her and she felt her chances were considerable better with him than the other circling her. It was in the moment that he turned to leave that the terror and fear she had pent up inside her came bursting out. Her voice, a shaky mess, burst out in horror. "Please..." Her voice caught as she realized her mistake much too late. Turning, her eye caught the newfound interest in the eyes of those surrounding her. Weakness was a death wish and there was nothing weaker than a simple "please". She needed help.

"Aeila Snowblood. Bastard daughter of King Darion; the King's shame." It came tumbling out, her eyes wide and pleading.

Azilon might have been a jerk, but he wasn't completely without compassion. The girl's pleading voice behind him was enough to stop him dead in his tracks, though he didn't immediately turn around to face her. Instead he waited for her to provide a name before turning to grin at her, not all that unlike a victorious spider with a fly caught in his web.

"It's a pleasure, Miss Snowblood. I'm Azilon Dantanath, Wraith of the Svartálfar Forest." Upon speaking his name many of the Drakken who had been out to fight at the Southern borders snapped to attention. They might not have known him personally, but one wasn't given a nickname for just anything, and his was a horror show. Still, there would always be a fool who either wasn't paying attention or willing to challenge the one who held the situation. Being one of those fools, a rather bone-headed Drakken sauntered up behind Aeila and reached out as if to grab her shoulders. Eyes narrowing angrily Azilon exhaled slowly, mouth shaped like he was going to whistle... Only a sound was never produced to the group standing around him. The idiot behind Aeila however, froze up with a look of horror, confused eyes meeting Azilon's blank ones.

Azilon almost felt bad for the guy watching him try to cover his ears to block out the shrill noise ringing at his eardrums. Most of his victims did, though he could never really understand why, it wasn't like they didn't know there was no escape once he was heard the first time. Bit by bit Azilon increased the intensity of the sound, ignoring the man's cries of pain until suddenly he stopped. Releasing the Drakken from his elemental grasp, Azilon smiled at the sight of blood running down both sides of his foe's face. Collapsing to the ground, the Drakken stared off into space blankly as if in disbelief. Not dead, but certainly deaf and permanently so at Azilon's hand.

"At least now the imbecile has an excuse for ignoring people when they are mid-conversation." Shaking his head, Azilon's facial expression seemed to turn on a dime from his previous animalistic grin to one a little more sincere.

"You said your name was Aeila Snowblood? Hmm, that means the brother you spoke of is Prince Rynek huh? Not exactly an encounter I was planning on or looking forward to tonight, but..." Sighing with resignation, Azilon reached his hand out and lightly grasped the girl by one of her horns, tugging her along not quite beside him but not exactly behind him either.

Her features scrunched into a frown. Azilon Dantanath? Wraith of the Svartálfar Forest? She recognized the name and the title but couldn't quite place her finger on it. No one may have ever seen Aeila but she had heard quite a great deal of conversations between her brothers and her father and unfortunately for her, she was certain she recognized his name from then. Her suspicions were confirmed when his eyes darted away from her, moving to something just above her head. Blinking in silent confusion, she wheeled about on her heels and gasped in horror at the scene in front of her.

The man seemed to be clutching at his ears, screaming in agony at something which went unheard to the rest of them. She was sure it was something very real when blood began to run down his chin and drip onto his shirt. She turned, eyes wide and wild. "Stop this! Leave him alone!" Her comments landed on deaf ears (ayy) and he ignored her for the most part before the man fell to the ground, clutching his ears and recoiling in sheer terror. She wasn't safe. Rynek didn't do this. Rynek killed and butchered but he had honor, or at least she thought.

Her small stature backed away from him, moving towards the suddenly hesitant wolves but it was much too late as he gripped her by a horn and dragged her to attention. "Leave me alone and I swear, my brother will never hear a word of this!" Then it hit her. She may not have been good with a knife but her magic was decent and he couldn't possibly hit back at her, lest Rynek actually did show up.
So, closing her eyes, she felt the power of the cold ground beneath her seep upwards. When you spent most of your day by yourself, you had nothing better to do than mess around with magic but surprisingly, that magic came in handy. Flicking her eyes open, her pooled magic drained down into her fist which hardened like stone. After that; well she punched him. She was aiming lower but her fist landed directly in his stomach.

Rolling his eyes Azilon shook his head impatiently and stopped to threaten to leave her behind with the others, however it seemed she already had ideas of her own. A trick like that might not have been all that effective on some of the more beefy Drakken in the room, but like Aeila he was a bit on the thinner side too. He felt the air being forced from his lungs as her reinforced fist made contact with his gut. His grip loosened on her horn as the man doubled over, growling half with annoyance and half in pain.

Somehow he had miscalculated the girl's ferocity, not at all taking into account her ties with the elements. He wondered what her second elemental tie might have been, but he knew he couldn't afford to wait around to find out. Lunging forward, Azilon thrust an arm out bypassing her head by mere inches. Curving his hand he pulled his arm back toward himself making contact with the back of Aeila's head, grasping her hair tightly in his hand as he pulled the girl close to him. Yanking her head back at an awkward angle, the man grabbed her right wrist in his left hand to keep her close as he leaned his face in close to hers.

"That wasn't very nice young lady, not very nice at all." He said coolly, his anger apparent in calm demeanor.

"I ought to punish you right here in front of everyone, little sprite." Azilon hissed, carrying over his nickname for her earlier... However this time it sounded anything but endearing.

When she heard the growl of pain from him, she almost felt guilty. Her arm dropped, the magic dancing from it and dissipating into the air as she stepped forward to fervently apologize for lashing out at him. His hand snapped out and before she could even realize what was going on, his grip found her fiery locks and she yelped as he dragged her close. Holding her head back, his hand found her wrist and for a moment, just a moment, she swore that she could see the desire to kill her in his eyes. But his anger drunk that desire away in a second and his mouth spewed open. Her eyes went wide. This was not as it was meant to be. Rynek never hurt her, but this Azilon didn't seem to care. She was another prize, much like the weeping Gems around her.

Her eyes went wide and wild with fear as she seized up, her mouth opening and closing in silent terror. She had absolutely no idea what to do and it was destroying her. She hesitated, her weakness laid bare. That in itself was punishment enough but she imagined he had something very different in mind. Finally, some sense of coherency came to her words. "P-l-l-e-"

A loud voice suddenly interrupted them. "Aeila? Is that you!? It's been ages!" Rynek casually stroll into the clearing that had developed around the two. Bending down, he analyzed the situation with a frown before switching his position and looking at it from another angle. "Is it just me, Aeila, or did you actually attract someone?" Her eyes went even bigger than before as, almost in the blink of an eye, Rynek was involved in their weird stance. With one arm wrapped around Aeila's shoulder, he looked to the roof and painted a scene with his hands. "You know, Aeila, father always said you would die young! But I always protested - 'give the girl a chance, she'll be a dirty little minx one day spewing out little bastard babies left, right and centre'." He smiled, as if recalling a happy memory before he snapped back to his previous line of thoughts.

"Anyhow, we're leaving. I've got what I came for so tell the nice man you'll see him again sometime and we'll be off." Releasing her, he wandered back to where he had emerged from the ground and just as he was about to go for the sneaky butt-grab on Lienna, it snapped to his attention that Aeila was not following. His head turned, the corner of his eye catching the two. His tone warped into something bitter and twisted. "Aeila. I said, we are leaving."

---

Zakroti listened to Kasari intently and gave a short nod in response to the comment about his grandfather being aggravated. That was true, certainly, but then again when wasn't the old man aggravated?

"There is no need to apologise. I am certain my grandfather won't care that you struck a whimpering wretch, provided it doesn't harm our name. As for his preference of punishment, I am afraid that he does not take lightly to insubordinace, he- is a very unforgiving man." Zakroti gritted his teeth and grimaced as he finished speaking, casting a glance towards the Muthseran. He seemed to relax somewhat as she continued, nodding lightly

"And naturally, I understand your fury, there is no need to apologise for it. I gave you command of his fate, you exercised the power. You let him live which is more than most in this room would do. People have died over less than that." He spoke with noticeable scorn when he said 'most in this room', shaking his head grimly as he spoke about death. This was usually a violent night but so far it was unusually eventful.

"As for your hand I am glad to hear that it shall be fine and again, no apologies are necessary. Ultim-" Zakroti cut off as he heard a flute playing and turned to find the source, noting Miry was standing there in the centre of the room playing on her flute. He cocked a brow and glanced along to his Grandfather, who seemed to have his own brow raised in curiosity. Tyrlal stood up to stop Aymiria, only for Nastaki to raise his hand to signal for him to stop and say something that Zakroti couldn't catch.

It was now that Zakroti recognised exactly what tune she was playing and it wasn't hard to imagine that many would take it as an insult or an act of rebellion. Zakroti glanced back to Kasari in concern for a moment before looking back towards Aymiria "This will end badly." He commented gravely

And indeed it did, as no sooner had Miry finished playing than the consequences began to unfold. There was the sound of a singular applause... One of the southern lords, sitting a table across, had apparently decided to set an example for any other brides who might show approval. He took the girl by the throat and with his powerful grip crushed her neck, letting her fall limp to the floor before raising his goblet in a mocking toast.

A section of the crowd let out a dark, cruel laugh at the macabre display and yelled, mocking the girl as she fled from the room.

And almost as quickly as things had changed, they returned to normal again. The topic of conversation had shifted somewhat, of course, but many a Drakken appeared to be deriving amusement from the occurrence.

Zakroti grimaced as he heard Kasari hiss something that he imagined probably wasn't meant for him to hear, but none the less he glanced over to her and gave a small nod "He didn't have to take the girl in the first place. The Drakken are- every bit as monstrous as you may have been led to believe, I am afraid." He replied, glancing to his grandfather who had already sent Tyrlal after the girl. Nastaki looked his way and gave a bried nod to him before turning his attention back to his food.

Zakroti stood up quickly and motioned for Kasari (after the events of tonight so far, he wasn't willing to risk letting either of them out of his sight for the moment... He did he want Kasari to attempt anything reckless if left with his grandfather.) and two of his Blackguard to follow with a hurried command of "Vain, Kzaar kree, hilyat." The two Blackguard who were named quickly moved away from the table and took up positions flanking him.



Gaikus watched in surprise as the little girl, Aymiria, shoved past him and darted into the room. He remained silent as he approached her, peering down and listening to the girls sobs.

. “I killed Astrae, I kill..k-k-killed Astrae, I can’t… I don’t… I n-never wanted a-a-anyone to—to d-die… Liiren… Liiren l-lied… music doesn’t bring… m-music doesn’t make p-people h-happy, it makes them kill each other, i-it’s my f-fault… I’m s-sorry… I’m s-s-sorry, A-Astrae… I d-didn’t… I j-just wanted to make you sm-smile, I just… I’m s-so-so-rry...”

Slowly, he pieced together what he could and guessed that she had... Perhaps played something on her flute which had offended one of the Drakken lords enough to cause him to kill this 'Astrae' girl. "The little girl needs to learn to blame the guilty and not herself; you are not in the Gemminite Kingdom where everyone is nice and polite, you are in Drakka where dynasties are built upon the corpses of the weak. Here, being weak makes one a wounded animal and they circle like vultures, ready to pick the bones clean." Gaikus said quietly to her before turning away and heading back to the door, just in time for Tyrlal and another pair of knights to stride past him.

The trio approached Aymiria and stared down at her, still clutching her rabbit. One of them glanced to Tyrlal and motioned to the flute on the floor with a grin. The young knight chuckled darkly and bent over, snatching the flute from the floor and backing away to be behind the other pair of knights

"What a pretty little thing. Would be a shame if something was to happen to it..." Tyrlal commented mockingly as he examined the flute and gave a wry smile, then glanced down to the rabbit in Miry's hands "You've dragged us away from the feast... And I'm fucking hungry."

"Don't worry. One rabbit stew coming right up." The second knight replied, taking a step in advanced as he drew his sword and glanced down to the rabbit

"Should be enough, if we weren't greedy. Might even be enough for her, the provider should get her share too." The third knight said with a cruel smile

"Hand it over, girl." The Knight raised his blade into the air... Only to find a hand closed tightly around his wrist.

"Zuthi, return to the Muthseran. The girl is not yours to deal with." Gaikus said firmly, staring at the knight... The knight stared back at him for several moments before attempting to pull his hand clean of Gaikus' grip

As quick as a flash Gaikus twisted the knights arm painfully, causing him to drop his sword as he struggled to get loose. Then Gaikus swept the knights leg and sent him clattering to the floor. The knight turned over slowly ontoi his back and looked up to the Blackguard

"The girl is not yours to deal with." The Blackguard repeated simply as he drew his sword and pointed it to the downed knight "My lord shall deal with her. Away with you."

Tyrlal and the other knight drew their blades and readied themselves for a fight "We'll have your head for this." Tyrlal barked as the pair advanced towards him. The knight scrambled out from below Gaikus and away to hide behind his comrades, his sword still lying at Gaikus' feet. The Blackguard brought his shield to hear and prepared to fight the two but the action was halted by the words of Zakroti, echoing from the doorway

"What am I seeing? Sheath your blades, the lot of you." Zakroti shouted as he ran his eyes over the scene, glaring at Tyrlal in particular

"An Muthseran heldon odzi kala haelia geh yuize nit evia, Muth." Tyrlal said as he sheathed his sword and looked towards the short Lord before him. Zakroti examined him for a few moments and took note of the flute that the warrior still had clutched in his hands. Of course they had taken her flute; that may well have been a direct order from Nastaki himself and he was in no position to force them to give it to her, lest he incur his grandfather's wrath. In truth, Nastaki probably didn't care what happened to the girl so long as she was not able to do anything like that again, so it made sense to take her instrument.

What would they do with it? Anybodies guess but he imagined that Nastaki would probably sell it on if he hadn't ordered them to break it.

"Gais haelia?" Zakroti demanded, folding his arms slowly in front of him and giving the knight a stern look

"Haelia." Tyrlal replied with a small shrug "Edeew geheiz 'Bunny' e geheiz 'Flute'... Sepew geh, camorew geh. Naan carac odzi gaiar kala roew."

"Wre jusla Aymiriaeiz emeratu admia, nit a zan haelia ro. Kros odzi, Zuthi." Zakroti said matter of factly as he waved his hand dismissively. Tyrlal nodded, grinned and waved the instrument through the air to taunt Aymiria before dropping it onto the floor and stamping on it several times with an armoured boot, causing it to crack and split on the floor. He chuckled before turning slowly and marching out of the room. The disarmed guard cautiously picked up his sword before backing away, as if expecting another blow, and then followed his comrades out and into the hallway "And wipe that smirk off your face Tyrlal, or my berserker shall do it for you!"

Zakroti turned back towards Aymiria and noted the expression on her face and the tears. She had been crying.

Well, of course she had been crying. There was absolutely no way this poor little girl had been prepared to see someone's neck broken. He would wager that she had suffered more here tonight than at any point beforen in her life. She had said that the flute was precious to her and now it was shattered on the floor, he wasn't even sure how she would respond to that.

"Have you been touched, girl?! What in Vivari's name possessed you to do that?" Vain exclaimed at her in disbelief, before noticing her state and cutting himself off. Zakroti raised a single hand to his head before sighing heavily. He glanced towards the others before looking back to her and speaking.

"Vivpre Vain, vivpre... Aymiria, I'm sorry about the girl, and your flute. The response has been overzealous. Things were getting heated, the atmosphere is... It was not the right time to do something like that." Zakroti commented as he approached the flute on the floor and knelt over it; it had split into two pieces and cracks ran along it. He didn't know much about musical instruments but it didn't take an expert to get that it was completely ruined. Zakroti muttered a curse under his breath as he shook his head "Vain take Aymiria to the bedchambers... I think she could do with time away from the 'folk of quality.'" Vain nodded in response and looked down towards Aymiria, approaching her and taking her hand

"Come, Aymiria." Vain said in a far calmer and more friendly tone than he had less than a minute earlier.

Well, this had been an eventful evening

@WeepingLiberty@RomanAria

Nadia blushed slightly at the pet name. A light, his light. For a split second she wasn't sure how to respond, but thought she should say something. She remembered back to what little names her parents would use for each other, and taking a small breath to steel herself decided to try one of them out. "Thank you, honey bear." She wasn't sure why she'd said the words 'thank you', but after she said them she realized that she did feel grateful.

Rather than keep this reavalation to herself, she continued speaking, her words keeping pace with her thoughts as she felt herself beginning to tear up. "Thank you, for being so kind to me, to us. For not being horrible right away and for, for..." She trailed off and started wiping the tears from her eyes with her hand, staying silent now.

Saisri had winced slightly as Exon's hand closed so tightly around her upper arm, but she didn't say anything. Even as he sarcastically called her his "Little love" she just frowned and looked away. Adventurous she might be, trying to test the waters to the best of her ability, but she wasn't entirely suicidal, at least.

It was slightly alarming that... was... Nadia was already crying? Oh gods... Saisri couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor girl, but then, she guessed that for anyone who didn't treat this as an adventure, it would be absolutely terrifying, the kind of thing to cause tears and nightmares...

The taller girl reached out towards Nadia, with a (hopefully) reassuring smile on her face, and gently pulled the little Fire gem into an embrace. "Nadia, you're going to be fine. There's nothing to cry about now."

Exon blinked, looking over at his smaller bride. "You've done nothing that warrents me being horrible to you yet. Why would I punish you if you are behaving?" He did tense up when the girl started crying. "Stop that though, I've done nothing to make you cry either," He was a little greatful that his trouble bride was around to comfort her. He wasn't the consoling type.

"I'm s-sorry. I just..." Nadia wiped the rest of the tears from her eyes and willed them to stop coming, as Saisri pulled her into a hug. She gripped the other Gem tightly, grateful for the gesture. After a moment, she'd managed to breathe through the tears and stopped crying, though she still felt like she would break down any moment. So much was happening in such a short time. She composed herself, not quite letting go of her sister-bride as she started speaking softly as if her own words would cause the tears to return.

"No, you've done nothing to me, and that's why I cry. You're kind, at least so far, and with everything else... Up until an hour ago I was convinced I would die within the next few days, if not tonight. Your kindess and treatment of me I see as a blessing from Vivari herself, and I thank you for being the one her chioce of Fate tied me to." She smiled at him over Saisri's shoulder, genuinely hoping he'd understand what she meant. She gave her sister-bride one more squeeze and let go now, backing off a little after whispering in her ear. "Thank you, Sisi." Her voice choked on the last word, and Nadia blushed as she messed up Saisri's name.

Saisri paused for a moment, considering, then smiled at the little gem, in an attempt at lightening the tone. "Sisi, hmm? Not the worst nickname I've ever been given. Probably one of the best." Then she fell silent as Exon spoke.

Exon took a deep breath, letting his smaller wife finish her speech before speaking again. "My wife, both of you really, I don't pretend to be kind or caring, but I promise not to be unjustly cruel or unfair with either of you" He broke a piece of bread, more intent on ripping it up, then eating it. "I won't pretend that you will come to love me. But if you respect and obey me, bare me sons and if you don't shame myself or my family, then I would imagine you both to have long and comfortable lives,"

After a while at sitting at the table, Exon's brothers had finally wandered off, not that he was waiting for that. "I assume you both are hungry," He said. "If you want more than this" he said, gestering at the table. "I suggest you get it now, I won't want to take you once more people come in here,"

Nadia reached forward and took a few of the more interesting-looking dishes onto her plate. She didn't think anyone would bother putting anything inedible or dangerous out, so was relatively calm as she took a bite of a piece of meat she had grabbed. I practically melted in her mouth, and the flavor was spicy but not so much that she couldn't handle it. As she tried everything else she had taken she found that practically everything was delicious in a way different from the last.

After a while, the sound of a flute suddenly rang throughout the room. She recognised the tune as the royal fanfares, though she couldn't name any other time she'd actually heard it played before. From where she sat, she had to kneel facing backwards on her chair to see the player. A small gem, even smaller than herself, stood in the center of the room and played with confidence unlike any Nadia had ever seen before. Once the song was done, The gem addressed the crowd, and somone she couldn't see started clapping.

Saisri watched Nadia out of the corner of her eye; seemingly the little Fire gem was feeling better, at least enough to eat. Saisri herself wasn't eating much; while the food did look good, there was just something that seemed... wrong about eating. Like the platters had been arranged too artfully to disturb by taking food from them. Nonetheless, Saisri knew she had to eat, so she contented herself with a piece of bread and some of what looked to be smoked salmon.

Then there was the call of a flute from the center of the room. Saisri whirled in her seat, though it took a moment for the name of the tune to register. Of course. The fanfare of the royal house. She couldn't help but whistle along, though the sound of her whistling was likely so quiet that no one except maybe Exon and Nadia would hear. When the piece was over, Saisri almost jumped to her feet and applaud the girl, but a glance at the murderous expression on her husband's face indicated that would not be a good idea.

Exon narrowed his eyes at the Gem in the center of the room. The girl, well, he'd be surpised if she was ever going to be allowed to play again. That was, if she lived through the night. Which one nearby Gem already wasn't going to do. His impulsive wife had merely hummed along, unlike other who openly celebrated the goings ons. He wasn't going to fault her....much...for that. "We are leaving," he growled, sensing more of the aggressive Drakkons readying themselves to take revenge from his slight. He took both of his wives by the arms and forcibly stood them up, intending to head up to the wedding suite.

Nadia almost wanted to clap herself, but with the crack that sounded just before the clapping fell silent, she felt herself go cold. She ducked her head behind the back of the chair and focused on her breathing, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. After she'd managed to get a few deep breaths in, she felt Exon grip her arm and begin to pull her out of the chair. She stood up quickly to comply with whatever he was doing, but that was not good for her dizziness. She held on to Exon's arm to support herself, the room threatening to swirl around her and leave her in darkness. "H-honey bear? I d-don't feel well...

'Honey bear.... He thought in mild shock at his smaller wife. Although he was more concered for the fact that her face was almost ghost white. "My light?" he said, letting go of Sairis for a moment, using both hands to look over the girl. "Are you able to make it just a bit further? We are almost to a place where you can rest,"

Nadia was barely aware that she'd spoken, let alone that anything had been said to her. She merely nodded at her husband once she'd realized he asked her something. She kept focusing on her breathing, and looked at the floor to steady her vision. "I'm just... dizzy." After a second she remembered a trick her mother had shown her as a child. She held one of her hands out and produced a small flame, then focused all her energy on making the flame as small as can be, but as bright as possible. She felt the heat from the flame grow as the brightness grew, until both stopped and the flame had diissappeared. She wan't sure why this worked, but she felt a little calmer already, and it wasn't so hard to breathe now.

Exon watched his wife for a second, unsure of what she was doing. Then he saw her great fire, which was...unexpected. He pegged her for an air...maybe MAYBE a water Gem. There was a part of him that felt like he should stop her, but whatever it was, it seemed to be helping her. "If you are feeling better, we must leave," he said, once some color had returned to her face. He grabbed Saisri and took Nadia's hand, leading them out of the feast and up some stairs and into their wedding chamber.

Nadia nodded and walked alongside Exon as he led them, somewhere. While she didn't feel like fainting anymore, she still couldn't get the sound out of her head of, whatever must have happened to that poor Gem girl. She kept her eyes down as they walked. If, if she had clapped too, would she also be...? She shook her head slightly, as if the action alone could banish the thoughts from her mind, and looked around as Exon had led them into... "oh."

She slipped her hand from her husband's grasp and walked over to the fireplace in the room. There was no fire lit yet, but she fixed that with a small wave of her hand, and soon the little flare she'd given turned into a warm, crackling flame. She knelt by the fire and watched the tounges of flame dance, and the shadows they cast around the room. She felt much better now, though still shivered at the thought of what had just happened.

Exon gave his wives a few moments to adjust to the new room. He walked around gather different tools for what needed to be done next. To make them...his forever more. He rang a bell and a sad looking Gem came into the room with a needle and a pot of ink. "My loves," he said, turning to face his wives. "Bare your backs and allow this woman to leave my mark on you," He wasn't very artist, or he would have simply done it himself.

Seated comfortably in one of the best seats in the dining hall, Cuwarr prepared himself to enjoy what would have been a delicious dinner. Cuwarr flipped his plate open before looking at his wives, Sorici at his right and Kalani at his left. He beckoned for the two to partake of the feast and, perhaps, some of the drakken lords glared at them for the warlord's blatant display of respect for the gemminites. As the feast went underway, a rather bold gemminite stole his attention as he tuned his eyes to the woman who prostrated herself in the center of the hall. For a moment, Cuwarr believed that the woman would burst into fury, spouting all things horrid about the drakkens (and she wouldn't be wrong, not at all). However, never did the warlord expect that she would burst into a symphony of songs and hymns. While the melody proved to be too scrappy for the other uncultured pigs of Drakka, Cuwarr's spirits roused in unison to her outstanding aria of valor and fanfare. Of course, as she finished her crescendo and performance, the warlord held himself back from clapping and applauding-- after all, it was still beyond him to clap for a mere gemminite even if he wanted to express his genuine appreciation for such a display of art and music (both that are absent from his desolated homeland).

But, the crowd's gaze were drawn by the sight of one of the lesser lords who held a timid gem's neck in his hand. Whether it was because Cuwarr was exposed to the sight of death and savagery, the warlord had an inkling of what would happen next, if only because he noticed the way the woman's choked gasps were beginning to sound serious. As the gem's neck snapped, the warlord shook his head in disgust as such barbarianism. If he wanted to kill a gem, he should have done so artfully. Not this. These little creatures deserved a more artful and beautiful end. Besides, there was no honor in killing a gem. None at all. If only, that lesser lord proved his incapacity to treasure his own belongings.

The warlord quickly glanced at his wives, noticing that his Auburn Rose gasped in alarm. He could see the fear in her eyes even if his eyesight was dimmed. Immediately, he shifted his hand to pat her head in what seemed as an act to comfort her. He did the same with Sorici, allaying their fear wherever possible. However, the sight of the dead woman in the banquet hall would not do them any good. With that, Cuwarr stood up without pause, shaking the table in his wake. He turned to the murderer with a snide grin. "I must say that your action was a stunning display," Cuwarr began as he heaved the longbow over his shoulder. "Now, I know that you are a drakken incapable of taking care of those assigned to your jurisdiction. Your actions befit that of a lord of your level." the warlord spun around before beckoning for his wives to follow him, as shaken as they might be.

They would retire to their quarters, on the third floor of Shadow Worth. Cuwarr purposely chose that room because it was the farthest from his swine counterparts, and it had a stunning view of the night sky that reigned over the land of Gemminia. From this vantage point, they could see the silhouette of the gems' homeland a hundred miles away. No word escaped Cuwarr's lips as he ascended the spiral staircase towards their room, and perhaps, none was necessary. The emotions, the fear, the spite-- he could feel them all inside the banquet hall. The climb was slow and silent. He was already betting on relaxing the two gemminites in order to make the most out of them for the night, but with that savage display of brutality, he would be lucky to even get a single drop out of Sorici and Kalani.

The gemminites' emotions were always hard to control and when they're spiked to this level of depression, there's no telling what they'll do or won't do. Cuwarr spared a glance at the two them once more. Even though they couldn't see his eyes, his gaze spoke levels of forlorn and, perhaps, even tinge of sadness. Cuwarr's four lieutenants followed suit behind them, but the warlord instructed them to just merely guard the hallways. There was no need to intimidate his brides. That sullen lord already did plenty of that. Finally, Cuwarr reached his room, pulling out a steel key from his pocket in order to open it. The room was spacious with a fireplace a few meters from the large, rectangular window. The floor was carpeted as a mirror was situated beside the bathroom. In the center of it all was a large, king-sized bed (drakken-size, mind you) with the covers clean and the stack of pillows fluffed. There were a few red, satin couches grouped in one corner. However, the main point of the room was the view from the window: an endless blanket of night littered with a wild array of stars as far as the eyes could see. At the end of the boundless horizon was the shadow of Gemminia, shrouded by clouds of fog and darkness.

As soon as they entered the room, Cuwarr closed the door behind them before stripping off his armor. He hung his longbow on a steel pedestal and placed his bloodstained armor on one of the nearby tables. Now clad in only his eye-cloth, sleeveless shirt, and a pair of fit, beige trousers, Cuwarr returned to his wives. He stood in front of them, trying to see what he could say. At this moment, he didn't know how to comfort them, or how comforting even works.

"Ease your minds, my flowers," Cuwarr began, not daring to touch them for now. After all, gemminites were fragile and weak creatures. They might squeal if touched since they saw that murder. Squealing and crying were always things that Cuwarr despised. Why cry when you can do something about it? Crying was for the weak. Then, he shook his head, chuckling in the process. "Well, get yourselves ready. I've already instructed my lieutenants to carry your belongings to this room beforehand. I think you'll find them inside the wardrobe."

With that, the warlord grabbed a white towel which was hung by the door. "My lieutenants are outside should you need any assistance. I would need to clean refresh myself. I just came home from a war, and I do not wish to smell like blood all night." Cuwarr grinned, the details more of a threat rather than an instruction. It was as if he told them that if they dared escape, there were drakkens outside. Thus, Cuwarr stepped into the bathroom where he began to use whatever cold water was left to wash off all the grime and blood that had reached his skin. In the process, the warlord took off the eye-cloth where he took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the light. The bath was not just to let Cuwarr freshen up; it was also to allow the gems a semblance of peace and quiet. Their frayed nerves needed calming and the presence of a drakken warlord was sure to hinder such an opportunity.

A few minutes passed and even though the water was really cold, Cuwarr managed to finish. He brushed his hair back before tying the towel low around his waist. He breathed a sigh of relief, feeling his temperature adjust, before exiting the bathroom. Without his eye-cloth, Cuwarr finally saw his brides with his own two eyes. Sky-blue orbs gazed at Sorici and Kalani, taking in the beauties that he snagged even when his sight was impaired. He paused for a moment, wanting to savor this time of clarity. A gentle smile formed on his lips as he approached his brides, tilting both their chins upward so that he could gaze into each of their eyes. Brown, golden, and cyan-- Cuwarr couldn't think of a better combination of colors. His mouth opened to speak, but his tongue painfully refused to cooperate. At that moment, the stoic warlord failed to conjure any flattering words that he could speak. Their allure rendered him speechless and beautifully speechless at that. Cuwarr knew that it was impossible to speak of beauty when his mind would refuse to see the splendor that these two women instilled in his eyes. "I find no appropriate words to express how awed I am at the allure you both possess," A slight chuckle escaped him, though. "Although, I think that the silence spoke louder than any compliment I could muster."

But, still, the deed had to be done.

"Well, have you prepared for this?" Cuwarr stepped away from them, grabbing a few wooden stands and situating them near the window. "I have rather peculiar tastes, and I would hope that your strength will be as steadfast as your dazzle."

Sia paused to consider the Gemminite man’s statement. “Tomorrow, then, three miles north of where the great road divides. The vast majority of the warlords here come from the south and west. My party and yours will be alone along the road. And it should not be taken as suspicious, not when I, as a female and one of the less-qualified lords here, choose to march homewards with another of the lesser-qualified lords here. Lest some older, more prestigious Drakken decide to overpower my small force and take my bride. I did not bring my army to the keep as Zaerna Thorot’oll, the last woman to take a bride, did; I fear that the others might see me as an easy target.”

The woman noticed that everyone was making their way to the banquet hall. She looped her arm more tightly around Sorrin’s shoulders and guided the girl towards the hall. “Sorrin, what do you think of the man we just met?” Sia had a pretty good idea of it herself, but she wanted to see where her new bride’s head was.

Sia took a seat a ways from the dais, near the center of the room, not wanting to attract undue attention. She passed an empty plate to Sorrin and started pointing out all of the dishes lined out on the table. “I can assure you that all of this is absolutely delightful, but do stay away from anything with that minty green color if you don’t like spicy foods. It fools a lot of girls, but that’s a very spicy herb. Almost like cinnamon, if cinnamon was a lot spicier.”

The drakken woman herself did not eat much, despite being rather hungry. She never really liked to eat much at these functions. Mostly, she watched her bride eat. That poor girl, taken away from her home… the least Sia could do was make her house as welcoming as possible.

Sia was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of a flute. A tiny gem girl stood there, just a few paces away from her table, playing… of course it was the royal fanfare.

As the girl finished the piece, Sia wanted to applaud, but was saved from doing so as she watched a Gemminite woman stand up, and her Drakken beside her. Sia covered Sorrin’s eyes with one hand, and plugged her ears with the other, so that the girl wouldn’t see the grisly neck-breaking that Sia suspected was about to happen.

Sure enough, her fear came true. The fire inside Sia burned, and her skin flared with its golden stripes of flame again. As the kerfuffle died down, she uncovered Sorrin’s eyes and ears, stood up and took the gem girl by the hand.
“Sorrin, we’re leaving. This is no place for a Gem, not once blood has been spilled.”

As they walked down the hall towards their suite, Sia noticed none other than Zakroti Unalim, the husband of the flutist. His face was drawn, brow furrowed. He was worried, as rightly he should be.

“My lord Unalim!” Sia exclaimed, curtsying slightly to the short Drakken. She’d followed his rise to power (of course; who in Drakka hadn’t?) and admired the man considerably. Short men were looked down upon as much as women were, as weak and soft.
He had such power, and such ambition. He could be an ally.

“If you don’t mind, may I speak with you for a moment?”

---

Aery couldn’t help but blush and bite her lip as she wondered what was in store for her for the evening. Judging by the firm, powerful grip of the arm around her waist, she was in for a pretty rough night… Not that that would necessarily be a horrible thing.

“It would be an honor to be considered perfection in the eyes of so influential a Drakken.” The words fell softly, like honey, from her lips, as she tried on a seductive expression. Head tilted slightly, eyes half-lidded, a tiny one-sided smirk on her lips. (To be completely honest, she had no idea what she was doing, but she’d seen other girls use that look before.)

“My lord is too kind. I have seen this kind of spread at only the royal banquets, and I was only allowed to partake after the nobles had their share. Assuming my mentor would even let me eat; too often I had to stay and paint all of the court lords and ladies.” The small girl was content to lean against her husband for the moment, watching all of the finely dressed Drakken and their scared, dolled-up brides, like so many little flowers clinging to the arms and hands of dragons.

Until, that is, she heard the flute. Then she sat bolt upright, her face going pale; she had to stand on the seat of her chair to see over it. Miry stood there in the center of the room, her eyebrows furrowed in determination, fingers all but flying over the tone holes. Aery covered her mouth with a hand. Even with the orchestra, Miry had never performed so well…

…And someone was going to die for it. Another girl, probably one of Miry’s friends from the orchestra, jumped to her feet clapping, only to have her neck summarily snapped without any word from her Drakken.

Aery froze, the air around her suddenly becoming dead and still. Her Drakken lord offered her his goblet—oh, lovely. The girl took a sip of the wine as she was bid, fighting to keep from wrinkling her nose at the strong taste. So unlike anything they had in Gemminia.

“They always said I was the impulsive one but I’ve never gotten anyone killed for my stupidity…” The words fell dead and expressionless, Aery just staring off blankly.

Something was wrong. She’d seen a number of guardsmen, presumably from Miry’s husband’s guard, all but run out the door after her sister, and hadn’t heard them come back. All of a sudden terror seized her, horror and fear and dread and a protective instinct and a sudden wash of other thoughts that she couldn’t hope to sort out.

This had happened before, of course. Then they were younger, whenever Miry had a performance that she was stressed out about, Aery would also get extremely nervous, not able to keep any food down or anything. When Aery had fallen out of a tree as a child and broken her leg, Miry had been unable to stand for the pain in her own leg. The physicians had said it was something that sometimes happened, between twins, and they didn’t know why, but it was just something they’d have to learn to live with.

A moment of pure terror and the room spun around her; the air gem gasped, clasping a trembling hand over her mouth and squinting her eyes shut, cutting off her own airflow. She didn’t necessarily want to be unconscious in a room full of horny Drakken, but…

It was better than sitting here in agony, wondering what was happening to her sister.

---

It took a long moment for Miry’s thoughts to catch up. First the guard spoke of… vultures and the weak and the strong. Blaming the guilty, not the weak. But…

Had the girl been in her right mind, she would have replied with one of her tutor’s favorite arguments. “If the king orders an execution, on whose conscience does the murder fall? The king’s, or his loyal executioner’s?” But given everything that had happened she just shook her head and wiped at her streaming eyes, not daring to look at the Drakken who had spoken to her.

There was a commotion by the door; Miry clutched Bunny tighter to her chest, not daring to look. Until the moment she saw a sword in her peripheral vision, brought just inches away from her nose and the rabbit in her arms.

”Hand it over, girl.”

Miry shook her head, curling closer around Bunny, who squeaked in protest to being squished, or maybe smelling the little Gem’s fear. The sword point moved closer, the tip just slightly pressing into Miry’s arm. She flinched but did not move her hand, or that sword would press right into her little Bunny’s neck.

A harshly spoken word and a crash; Miry looked up in time to narrowly miss being hit by a shield being swung over her head. The girl squeaked and dove backwards, away from the melee. She hadn’t even really had to dive away, because a second later Zakroti’s voice echoed around the small stone room, and all the combatants froze.

The rest of the exchange was entirely lost on Miry, in part due to the rapid-fire foreign tongue and in part due to the fact that she realized one of the guards had taken her flute and was now absently twirling it between his fingers, making eye contact with her the whole time and smirking.

Then the guard’s face lit up and he pretended to offer the instrument back to her. Of course Miry knew it was a trick but that didn’t stop her from helplessly lunging for it anyway. The guard was… laughing, as he dropped the delicate ivory thing to the floor, and stamped the heel of his boot on it multiple times. A muffled sob worked its way out of Miry’s throat as she reached for the instrument, narrowly missing getting her fingers stamped under Tyrlal’s boot.

The man turned and left the room, still smirking, and Miry, half-crying, tried to pick up the remnants of her flute. Maybe it would be possible to pour some resin into the cracks and make it playable again.

…Or maybe not. The moment the girl tried to pick up the pieces of the instrument, there was a faint crumbling noise, and the still vaguely tube-shaped halves disintegrated into a bunch of random shards. She whimpered again, tears welling up for what felt like the hundredth time. Her fingers closed around what had been the top of the flute, which had remained, at least, somewhat intact. The ornate letter “M” on the top had a hairline crack through it, and where the piece had broken off was horrifically jagged and sharp, but… It was the most recognizable bit of the whole thing.

Small fingers gripped the piece of the instrument tightly, not caring that the jagged edges dug into her palm; with the other arm she cradled Bunny and held her small basket of clothing. Vain took her by the arm, and she did not resist as he led her to the private rooms that she could only assume had been set aside for every lord and his brides.

Miry gave the room only a cursory inspection before she sat down against the wall next to the fireplace, letting her basket and her pet fall to the floor next to her. Bunny nuzzled her face, emitting a concerned squeak. The girl distractedly patted her bunny’s head with her left hand, staring blankly at the floor in front of her, blue eyes glazed. Her right hand played with the broken bit of flute, rolling it between her fingers, not seeming to care that the sharp points tore into her palm.

Her mind was a tumble of thoughts and emotions. A lovely black-haired girl yelping in pain, dropping her viol and holding up her bloodied hand, one of the strings having snapped and lashed across her palm. Hazy memories of flipping a copper to a lovely child with a wooden plank, random salvaged strings pinned to it, the girl trying to play melodies on it, a mostly empty wooden bowl in the street muck in front of her, a row of urchins clad in rags peeking out of a dilapidated box behind her. Some knight on his high horse deciding to knock the girl down into the mud, causing her to land on her makeshift instrument and snap it.

No. No, this wasn’t right. Too many broken things.

The day of the Princess’s birthday, the sonata written to honor her. When all of the violists had turned up with broken strings less than an hour before the concert. A dual concerto that ended in Astrae having a mental breakdown and leaving the stage in tears.

Too many broken things.

That day when she just… couldn’t perform and had made a fool of herself and the entire orchestra. The silver blade that Liiren had pressed against her lips, leaving a tiny scar that hurt fiercely whenever she played, as a reminder of her failure.

The sickening crack of a broken flute… and of a broken neck. The sounds… were too similar.

Broken.

Miry choked on a sob, leaning her head back against the wall and shutting her eyes in an effort to stem the flow of tears.

I can’t… the words formed on her lips but she could not seem to utter them. She tried again, forming the words, but her voice wouldn’t cooperate. Help? Please… Her mouth moved as though she should have been speaking, but no sound escaped her.

Angrily, now, the small girl smacked her head back against the wall, more tears leaking out from under closed eyelids.

Get it together, Aymiria. That Drakken is right… this is a land where the strong prey on the weak. Astrae is dead and you just… break? Pathetic. Without your friends all you have is your music. Without your music all you have is your voice. And without your voice you are nothing. You are nothing. You are worthless. You should have died instead of Astrae. Let the worthy ones live and the useless ones die.

I am not nothing.

But the words fell silent.

---