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Fleur listened intently as the rather large man spouted and shouted at her. She nodded like a concerned mother would as her child rattled off a story about their day and why they had bruises and cuts on them, but she really didn't care. In fact, she wasn't too worried about this man and his penchant for loudness and punching and accusing. She had Nera behind her and Malakith beside her. If anything went South, she was assured this man wouldn't take another step.

Still, it was annoying to deal with. "My goodness, sir. I've been nothing but gracious since you came pounding at my door, even so far as to offer you tea and yet, you continue to scream and shout. I can deal with insults to my person as I've heard all manner of things, but I will not tolerate any insults thrown at my flock."

So she got close to the man, stepping up to his ugly, roundish face. Her smile was electrifying but her eyes betrayed any semblance of happiness. They read "Fear me!" "Now I know your name, Sigmund, a dangerous thing for a witch to have, you realize. I, however, am kind. Leave, do not bother us again, return to your...boat, as you mention and never darken this doorstep again. And if I hear otherwise that you are anything but a kind and decent person I truly know you to be," she said with huge hints of sarcasm, "I will find you when you least expect it. Or when you most expect it. And I will handle things. And no one will be the wiser. They will say "Sigmund who?" Remember this, Sig." She pecked the man on the cheek and shut the door in his face before turning to face the two others.

"Now. I believe we have a Coronation to attend?"

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Luna looked at the messenger rat and gave it a nod, as she watched it scurry off back to relay her message back to this Golds person, sighing slightly to herself. Luna went back to doing the last minute check of herself, making sure she was nice and presentable for her delegation as well as Valda's coronation. Luna turned and started to make her way out of her chambers, looking up and down, before heading down to the direction of the westernmost wing of the palace, remembering the very room that she had given them the day before. Luna walked quietly by herself, still her mind was wondering about the meeting in the evening and how she would be able to sneak herself out of the palace to have the meeting as well.

Luna would smile and greet the servants and other nobles that lived in the palace as they were all going about their business, still she couldn't help but be jealous of Valda still. She would look out at the early morning sky taking a little breath as she turned down the hallway, as she made it to the western wing of the castle. Then she was at the door, and waited patiently for the Eastern SnowPlains delegation to come out, she did not want to seem rude knocking on their door in case they were still all in prayer.

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Lyra's green/blue eyes widened and a light astonished laugh escaped her lips before she could contain it. Had she heard him correctly? He asked her for relationship advice? She had been asked many things over the years, but this was the first time she had ever been asked for advice on this subject matter of all things. After all, though she could dress and hold herself on par with the noble women, her femininity was overshadowed by her skills with weaponry and her at times sharp tongue. Needless to say, romance was the last thing people ever expected her to have any true advice on, and maybe they were right.

She gave Myrus an awkward half-smile. "Well, I cannot proclaim to be proficient in the area of romance and relationships," she explained, her smile soon slipping from her face. "You could say I haven't had much luck in that area. In my experience, most guys end up being too intimidated by me or simply flirt with me in order to try to get into my bed. Either way it's their loss. But, nevertheless, I will try to give you sound advice."

Her pale blonde brows furrowed as she contemplated the question at hand. This was a delicate situation, and as such she did not wish to just blurt out whatever popped into her mind without first thinking it through. Besides, it wasn't lost on her that what she would want isn't necessarily what every girl would want. She glanced up at Myrus when he added some context to his "hypothetical" situation. Her lips parted as a breath left them at his words, and she shook her head slightly with a hint of sympathy in her eyes. "For starters, you deserve better than to be called such hateful things. Granted, she may have just said that in the heat of the moment and didn't truly mean what she said. Nonetheless, a relationship should be built on mutual respect," she stated earnestly.

Lyra bent down slightly to get into his line of sight before he finally looked at her. "Have you tried talking to her?" she continued. "Girls like words, Myrus, words that are spoken from the heart. Flirting is overrated, but being genuine never goes out of style." She gave him a small reassuring smile as she still clutched the book that he had entrusted her to give to this girl Mavis. She felt the gravity and delicacy of the situation. She knew that this girl he was talking about "hypothetically" was actually Mavis, and that this book was the way he hoped to win her back. It was a sweet gesture indeed, but he would need more than gifts to fix a broken relationship. Her lips thinned as she glanced down at the book in her arms and then back up at Myrus. She let out a small sigh. This was certainly complicated.

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Malekith seemed entirely unfazed by the onslaught brought about by their "guest," the old grotesquely fat man Sigmund. His head tilted to the side slightly, and his dark brows furrowed as a look of seeming confusion crossed his features. Yet, if one looked close enough, they would notice that his eyes didn't match up with the rest of his expression but were instead devoid of any emotion. "Wrongs? You must be more specific, good sir," he inquired, his words dripping with innocence that he didn't have and flattery that he didn't feel.

His brows rose as the fat old man continued on with his tirade despite Malekith's attempt to otherwise dissuade him. He wasn't exactly sure himself why he even bothered playing this cat and mouse game with the obnoxious man. At a glance, it didn't seem like Sigmund had much to offer other than perhaps the fleeting pleasure of watching him die from a heart attack. Perhaps sometimes it was just a habit of Malekith's to try to deceive everyone he laid his eyes on, and sometimes he did find pleasure in simply playing the game even if the prize was minute.

Malekith contained any outward display of his satisfaction at seeing the old man painfully bash his hand into the door. His eyes darkened the slightest bit as he thought about how much more pain he could inflict upon the man, but unfortunately, the man was too fat and would only break his torture table. Such a shame. He arched a bit of a brow in reaction to Sigmund's name calling. Whores? Well, yes, they are. But me, a man-woman? he thought, glancing down at himself and then back up at the old man. I mean have you seen me? Clearly not.

He let his hand fall back down to his side as Fleur stepped forward to address the obnoxious man. He glanced back over at Nera who remained at the top of the stairs. He gave her a wicked smirk before returning his attention to Fleur as his Witch Mother finished up. He didn't really care what she had said to Sigmund, as long as it kept the old man at bay until Malekith could think of a more fitting fate for him.

"Indeed we do, m'lady," he responded as a charming smile came to his features. He bowed slightly and then stepped to the side to allow Fleur to pass and go up the stairs first. You know, as any gentleman would do.

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Cuyler smiled politely and nodded, gesturing in front of him before sweeping his arms out to encompass the whole table.
"Everything you see here has come from the Land of Lost Nights. The wood carvings are of my own creation, while everything else here has been created by those who can no longer travel but still wish to keep their craft alive," he explained to the aging Wizard and his friend.
Cuyler moved off to the side to let the gentlemen exam his wares without being pressured or shadowed. He learned from a young age to give the basic information and give space to potential buyers. No one liked to feel pressured. He glanced further into the Traders' Market to see if he could see how young Halvor was doing from here. Not having a good angle, Cuyler grabbed a stool and sat down.
"Arya Rincewind, the ExtraOrdinary Wizard," Cuyler stated. It sounded like Cuyler was to launch into some great epic about the young Wizard and her greatest achievements. A genuine grin crossed his face, reaching his green eyes and he looked back to his customers.
"We met at a Traders' Market a few years ago. Well actually, Thia met her," Cuyler said and as if Thia heard her name, she came bounding back through the crowd. Her tail was held high and she proudly sported a chuck of meat. Rabbit, by the smell of it as she neared. She came up and set it gently down on the cleanest patch of stone, before she went to greet Cuyler's prospective buyers. Cuyler chuckled, "She truly is my greatest asset. Anyways, I noticed Thia pushing a woman towards my table and called her off. The woman looked quite shocked by Thia's forwardness, so I began to apologize profusely until I saw who it was. I'll confess I was not the most, welcoming after that. My family was killed when I was younger and I am convinced Magyk is behind it." Cuyler instinctively reached up and rubbed his late sisters arm band. It hung on a chain around his neck and he would habitually check that it was still there.
Thia, sensing her companion's mood change, came over and nudged his hand until he scratched her favourite spot. Right between her ears. She moved off after she was satisfied and began to eat while Cuyler finished his tale.
"Your apprentice is of a very strong mind and was quite determined to, educate me on Wizards'. She didn't give me much choice but to listen as she set me straight."
Cuyler smiled, his eyes seeming to light up at the still fresh memory. To him, it could have happened yesterday. Arya was always willing to set his mind straight and Cuyler had a habit of pushing Arya's buttons. He enjoyed her reactions.
Cuyler looked over to the Wizard Tower again. He was looking forward to seeing his friend after these many months away.

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Alright, things were definitely a little awkward. He still was right about somethings, but the whole idea of getting married already was still a little strange to her. She hadn't known that she was royalty for most of her life, so him saying that royals generally don't marry for love was a weak argument on his part. If she did marry someone, she would prefer it for that, as opposed to political power or whatever. Not to mention the fact that he was a lot older than her, and more of an uncle to her than anything.

The Young Army thing was still something worth considering though. With everyone in the Castle not really trusting her, but would having guards who would listen to her help? The fact that her mother seemed to have approved of it, well... That was something to consider. They don't have the best reputation, but she trusted her mother, so maybe they could have a bit of a compromise or something on this issue.

"Look, I apologize, but I can't consider something as big as marriage at this point in time. There is too much going on right now. However, you have made several strong points about the Young Army. Many people around here think that I had something to do with my mother's death, and it would be nice to have some people who would work with me. And, you said that my mother had approved of reinstating them before she died, and how could I deny her. I'll grant your request for the Young Army to be reinstated."

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Whilst her Witch Mother spoke, Bell listened, but her eyes could not keep themselves from wandering about. The floor was hard and cool on her soles, and a slight skip had somehow found itself in her stride.

She nodded along eagerly at the mention of the imp; he was a funny little man, and the perhaps condescending way he spoke to her went far over her head.

“Oh yes, Witch Mother, I remember,” then she frowned, and stopped suddenly. Her hands went to her bag, as she checked for her own gift. Sure enough she found it, nestled with her other bits and pieces, but it was always best to check; all sorts of things could go missing if you took your eyes from them for one moment…

Looking up from her satchel, frantic for a moment, she saw her sisters had not gotten more than a few paces ahead, and she could still hear Jadis perfectly, but she hopped along quickly to get back closer to Jadis even still.

Bell's laughter was chiming bells once Jadis finished. “Oh yes, that will be most excellent,” But then her brow creased again as she recalled more of Puck, and she drummed a finger against her chin, before asking, “And what if lovely Valda says ‘no’, Witch Mother?”

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Rhys suddenly altered his course, quickening his pace. His charming smile remained on his face as he passed a group of woman. Snatching a flower from a nearby flower box and planting it in one lovely girl's hair with a fond look. Giving a slight bow, he winked before continuing on his way. Steering around children with a special care, handing out flattering compliments to ladies both young and old. Tipping his head to men as he passed. Spreading good cheer and essentially becoming a forget face. One that would be thought of, but never with scorn. After all, who would suspect the Smiling Man?

It was at last he arrived to the place he desired. The hubbub around the coronation ceremony was a mess. People would be coming and going. Last minute errands would be run. Places, things and namely, people would be over looked. For Rhys had a plan. He needed the young ExtraOrdinary Wizard Apprentice to be lured to him. Perhaps Blaine would be better? Blaine was more experience, but the younger would be easy prey. He'd love to get both, but that would require careful planning and timing. Something he hadn't been working on. This was spur of thought and he needed to work quickly and efficiently. Younger, Older, then Ayra Ricewind herself! His green eyes gleamed as he looked upon the Message Rat that would begin his vengeance. "Speake Rattus Rattus." The wizard intoned, trying to keep the glee from his professional demeanor.

"Take this message to the ExtraOrdinary Wizardy's Apprentice. From An Admirer. The message is thus..." Rhys though hard on the wording he wanted to use. He wanted to lure the child into his clutches. "I have seen you're progress, and it is impressive. However, I believe I have something that would interest you grandly. A rare book of magyk that should only go to one who can appreciate such a thing. But I would like to pass it on in person, and toast to the next ExtraOrdinary Wizard. For I have faith you will achieve such, Apprentice. I invite you to join me for that toast. Send this messenger back, and I shall meet you in the Ramblings at-" Rhys mussed, not near his home. He named a street corner a bit away. Not too far away, which would work to get the reciever back to his home. And in his prisoner. "I hope to see you soon, ExtraOrdinary Apprentice. Long has it been since someone has impressed me." If he fell for it-? Good, but if he didn't then nothing lost.

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@jdh97: Jadis' face soured. She didn't bother to keep how much that thought bothered her. She had gone to great lengths in order to persuade her brother to propose marriage to dear little Valda. In fact, she may have had to threaten him with a hex or two if he didn't cooperate. But eventually, Puck had come to see reason. It would be advantageous for both siblings - and Valda wasn't fit to rule. Not really. As much as Jadis loved her, the throne would suit her ill. "Then I will expect you to convince her otherwise, Little-Bell," Jadis finally said. The Wendron Witches had finally made it to the Palace. The guards, understandably, appeared less than thrilled to see them.

"Names?" a sour faced guard stated.

"The Wendron Witches, invited here by Queen Valda."

"She isn't Queen yet."

@LadyRunic: The message rat accepted the message, informing Rhys that it would have half a crown. It was more expensive than normal but so many people were sending message rats on this day, both due to the coronation and because of the Winter Solstice. And unfortunately, they didn't give out discounts to rogue ex-wizards. "Unless you can get the broken apprentice in the corner to move, then it's a quarter crown," the rat then offered.

As soon as Rhys turns to look, he'll see a boy rocking back and forth in the corner, muttering under his breath the same few sentences over and over again. "I mustn't tell them. I mustn't tell them. She'll be angry with me. Very angry. But they're all going to die...They're going to die...I need to tell...But I can't...Carlan said I mustn't..." He'll recognize him, of course. It's Tom Meadow - his fence's eldest son. And thanks to Rhys' skill in Magyk, he'll be able to tell what's wrong with Tom instantly - someone used powerful mental magyk on him, a bit carelessly even. It's deep set psychic trauma. Likely irreversible as well. Tom's Magyk is probably the only thing keeping him alive.

@KazAlkemi: Rowland looked at Cuyler with sympathy, before reaching into a small pocket on his belt. He withdrew a small glimmering Charm and handed it over to the Northern Trader. "This is a SafeCharm - may it prevent further tragedy from entering your life," Rowland explained. SafeCharms were powerful pieces of Magyk, designed to keep the holder from harm. They worked for anyone, Magykal talent or not. There were stories of people escaping fires unscathed because of them.

"You have my condolences," Yule then said, his head bowed slightly. "Just as there are so many who use Magyk for good...so are there those who use it for evil."

Rowland nodded. He paused for a moment before returning to a lighter subject. "I'll take whichever one you recommend for Arya - and I'll pay double the asking price." (If Cuyler accepts the SafeCharm, please add it to your possessions).

@Nallore: The delegation from the Eastern SnowPlains exited their rooms, having concluded their prayer session. Empress Astris had attended Queen Meliscente's funeral, yet she had sent her sister, Princess Snaera, to attend Valda's coronation. There had been no grand explanation offered for it, other than that Empress Astris was rather busy. Her own father had perished not too long after Queen Meliscente had died, causing her to inherit the empire. Now, Princess Snaera was accompanied by Grand Magician Peter Wylie. Wylie was a native to the Castle, the former apprentice of Blaise Rowland - yet he did not complete his apprenticeship.

"You're late," Snaera said coolly. She fiddled with a ring on her finger, not hiding a look of disgust on her face. Relations with the Eastern SnowPlains had been great under Queen Meliscente - apparently they had deteriorated as of late...

@BlueSky44: Puck relaxed considerably, surprisingly seeming to be okay with Valda's response. He nodded and gave her a deep bow, before smiling at her warmly. "I can have the Young Army fully situated in two hours. We are encamped on the north road. If you would not mind, might I use the Palace line to the message rat headquarters? It will be the most efficient way to communicate the good news to my men. And we wouldn't want them to be delayed a single moment on your special day, Princess Valda."

As soon as Puck finishes, the herald will return. "Your highness, the Wendron Witches have arrived. They are being detained at the front steps. What shall we do?"

@Dragoknighte: The creature struggled slightly in a desperate attempt to break free. But rather than breaking Atkin's grip on it, it instead outgassed slightly. The scent is truly awful - imagine the worst odor you have ever experienced and multiply it times a thousand. Fortunately, Atkin will manage to avoid puking - and unfortunately, the creature doesn't have anything helpful to say. "Oh great powerful one, please do release me...This is most unseemly..."

A thought will occur to Atkin, however. If he can get the creature to Wizard Tower, he can just lock it up in the Stranger Chamber and let Arya deal with it later. She might be able to tell him what exactly it is as well - and that smell is truly awful. It's hanging in the air, so it might be a good idea to get a change of scenery...

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Arya frowned sharply at Louanna's words, yet they were soothing at the same time. The last Questing stone had been drawn what felt like eons ago. In fact, Arya remembered the name of the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice who went on the final Queste - Septimus Heap. ExtraOrdinary Apprentices still drew from the Questing Pot during their apprenticeship, but it was a mere formality. It no longer carried the specter of death that it once had.

"Miss Moon, there are no more Questing stones - only pebbles remain in the pot," Arya reminded the ghost gently. It generally didn't help to get cross with the spirits - they couldn't help getting their memories mixed up with the present. It was sometimes better that way as well. She had had to banish a particularly unruly ghost of an Ordinary Wizard from Wizard Tower a few weeks ago - a Erik Halaway. He kept tormenting the new apprentices, fully aware of his actions.

"There weren't anymore and now there are...You need to be careful. When the Draw happens, the pot is filled with Questing stones," Louanna said. She spoke in a soft monotone.

"And who could have replaced the stones, Louanna? Hotep-Ra?" Arya asked incredulously. There was only one Questing stone in the Castle and it had been marked as complete. It couldn't be turned back into a blank slate - a death sentence for a new apprentice.

"I saw an apprentice go to the pot like he was in a trance," Louanna said calmly. "I couldn't tell what he did - there was a flash of green light - but when he left, I went to look at the pot...I lost my apprentice to the Queste...and it was filled with Questing stones."

"How long ago did this happen? And Miss Moon...Do you know who the apprentice was?" Arya asked. A chill had run down her spine. She wasn't certain whether or not to believe Louanna, yet her intuition was telling her that Louanna believed every word she said. Louanna hadn't exhibited any of the senile behavior some ghosts had - the poor thing had died young - and she truthfully didn't have any reason to doubt her. But for someone to fill the pot with Questing stones, so soon after the Queen died and a witch was posed to take the throne...

Arya took a deep breath. Her thoughts had begun to spiral and that wasn't what Wizard Tower needed of its ExtraOrdinary Wizard.

"Tom Meadow," Louanna said.

Arya bit her nails, tapping her foot against the floor. The floor was uncharacteristically silent, not displaying any greetings or words of wisdom. They were short staffed that day at Wizard Tower, with many of the Ordinaries taking the day off to enjoy the coronation. Atkin was too inexperienced when it came to Magyk for him to be of much service either. And she was needed at the Palace desperately, apparently.

"Miss Moon, please see which ExtraOrdinary ghosts would be willing to watch Wizard Tower in my absence. We will be barring the Tower to all visitors - including members of the Royal Family. Should Mr. Meadow return, he is to be taken to the Stranger Chamber and held there until I return," Arya instructed. The Tower itself heard the command of its ExtraOrdinary Wizard and began to subtly transform. Anyone who could see the tower, even in the distance, would notice the change. Its purple aura grew stronger, and sheets of metal and bars slid and covered all exits, aside from the main entrance.

"You two - please stand guard to the Tower," Arya then said, spotting two Sub-Wizards chatting off the Great Hall's main corridor. "There is something Darke making itself at home in the Castle..." she then offered as explanation.

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Sig hardly blinked an eye at Fleur's attempts to intimidate him. Either he was very brave or very stupid. The man then opened his coat, showing a row of silver bullets. "I know a thing or two about names as well. You see this one?" Sig explained, gesturing to one with F.L.M. carved into it. "It's for you. Kill me and togethah, well, we'll take our medicine," the man spat.

Nera's eyes flashed dangerously. Named bullets were nothing to joke about. In many ways, they were more dangerous than a witch knowing one's name. Once put into action, a named bullet cannot be stopped. It will defy logic and physics as it soars through the air, even penetrating land or sea, to kill its target. She held out her hand, making perfect eye contact with Sigmund.

"D'num," Nera said. The black flecks appeared to overpower the blue in her eyes. She extended her hand and then snapped her fingers. A moment later, a ball of Darke energy hit the ground next to Sig. She snapped her fingers again, causing another one to hit. She was about to cast a third when she noticed Sig clutching at his chest, barely able to speak or move. He was red and splotchy - more than normal - before he promptly keeled over. He had died of fright.

"What a shame...He expired so quickly," Nera said with a sigh. "I am ready to leave for the Castle whenever you two are."

In general, the rest of the Coven seems to be in good spirits. Two of the kids came screaming down the stairs, chasing each other with little orbs of energy and light. It's not an uncommon game for the children of the Port Witch Coven. There are some older members of the Coven, so there's already someone there to babysit them. Nothing else for Fleur and the others to attend to - though they may wish to dispose of the body...

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Myrus' eyes watered slightly at Lyra's words and he tried to think of ways to excuse what Mavis had said to him. But he was quite literally saved by the bell - or in this case, a knock at the door. They had left it ajar, and Myrus turned with a bit of a jump. It was the delegation from the Big Wild Land Over the Ocean - they weren't due for at least another half an hour. The young prince blushed furiously, eliciting a smile from the shorter of the two delegates.

"Asha the Magykal, Emperor Taj, my apologies...I was not aware that your vessel had arrived at the Palace docks," Myrus said, bending his knee. He motioned for Lyra to do the same. The Big Wild Land Over the Ocean was not a country that most in the Castle knew about - and certainly not in the Land of Long Nights. Yet even without prior knowledge of them, it was already clear how formidable they were.

"It is no trouble, Prince Myrus," Asha said with a smile. She was positively radiating Magyk, her purple aura visible to those who could not see Magyk. Around her neck, she wore a simple purple stone, yet it glowed with the same energy. Its immense power was palatable. It was clear that Asha possessed a strength that the Castle's ExtraOrdinary Wizard would pale in comparison to. "We took the Ancient Ways - a much more pleasant trip than any vessel," Asha explained.

Emperor Taj had remained silent, yet he was giving Myrus and Lyra a friendly smile.

"Then please allow me to welcome you personally to the Small Wet Country Across the Sea - to the Castle - and to the Palace," Myrus said, rising from his knelt position. "Should you require anything, please let me know and I will see to it personally. Princess Valda is so honored to have your presence here for her coronation."

"There is something that I must regret not having done yet, Prince Myrus," Taj said finally. "I wish to pay my respects to Queen Meliscente - if I may."

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Fleur began to walk upstairs before she heard the door slam open and Sig marched his ugly mug back inside. She had just about enough of this man and felt she was MORE than pleasant with him and was about to tell him such before he whipped out the bullets.

Not just any bullets either, silver bullets with initials. Dangerous things to have. This man had now insulted her for the last time. She thought of the many ways in which she could torture him and teach him a lesson, but Nera had beaten her to it. Dark orbs sent Sig in a tizzy and it was enjoyable to watch. The fear on his face was delicious. Fleur stepped forward as she continued to step back. She wanted the last thing he saw before he died to be her face. With a smile.

Once Sig was down. Fleur nodded her approval. "Nicely done, Nera. Couldn't have done it better myself. But now we must clean up the mess." With a flick of her wrist, Fleur sent a dark shadow over the corpse. She quickly motioned her hands away and the shadow cleared, disposing of the body in the process. All that was left were the silver bullets. Fleur picked them up and looked them over. She saw the initials clearly and pocketed them.

"Now, if there are no more interruptions, let us head back upstairs and plot out the day's events." She said as she made her way back up.

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Luna lowered her head and quickly bowed before Princess Snaera, her eyes meeting Snaera's cool stare biting her lower lip when she announced that she had been late. "I am so sorry milady.. I did not mean to be so late." Luna said calmly, she didn't have much of an excuse for being so late aside from the personal rat messenger, she remembered that their kingdoms were very close under her mother's rule. Luna wasn't sure why there was tension recently, she assumed that it was the sudden switch from her mother to her sister who was being coroneted today. Her purple eyes then wondered over towards Peter Wylie and gave him a friendly smile remembering seeing him. "It's so good to see you again Peter."

"Did you all rest well also shall we get started, do any of you need anything to do before we go?" Luna asked, as she stood straight looking directly towards Princess Snaera. Luna really missed the queen, she was so much better then she was when tending to delegations then she ever was, but she was going to tend to their needs and wants as best as she could in order to make them happy and to make sure that they still supported one another whenever they needed it.

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Cuyler was stunned for a moment by Rowland’s generosity. He took hold of the charm, staring at it for a minute while he processed what Rowland had just offered him. The words of the old Wizard’s companion circled in Cuyler’s head and jerked him back into his past. He saw his sister through the eyes of his youth and the destruction of his village. The fire, the smoke and the screaming of people running for their lives and the sounds of dying. The images were still vivid but Cuyler wondered if what he saw today is what truly happened then. He was the only survivor, so his account was the only one he knew.
Cuyler bowed deeply to Rowland.
”Your generosity is greatly appreciated.” Cuyler stood back up and held his head high. Though emotion layered his voice from the memories and Rowland’s kind acts, he remained strong. The pain he felt from the loss of his family was a driving force in his life and he would use it to avenge his family. ”If there is anything that either of you require from The Land of Lost Nights at any time, do let me know and I will secure it for you.” Cuyler didn’t necessarily feel like he owned them - Rowland was doing this out of the kindness in his heart - but the young man liked to treat others with the respect they deserved, especially when they showed it to him.
He tucked the charm into a pocket on his belt before stepping up to the table and scanned his wares, looking for something with Arya in mind. There was a wood carving that was set aside for her, but he wanted to give that to her personally. Instead, Cuyler scanned the jeweled items and pulled a few. Unsure what Arya desired most for her jewelry, Cuyler presented a few items. The first was a handcrafted necklace. The second was a locket made out of emerald and pure silver, a pair of earrings and finally a ring. Each item represented a portion of The Land of Lost Nights and remained true to the culture and their stories.
”Real emeralds in each item,” Cuyler informed the gentlemen. ”To bring out her eyes.”
Next to the purple she had to wear, Cuyler took notice of the green Arya tried to wear and it truly did bring out the uniqueness in the colour of her eyes. Cuyler’s eyes may be green as well but the green of the Wizards’ eyes was singularly theirs’.
”If I were the one to pick, I would lean closer to the necklace or the ring,” Cuyler supplied. He knew the maker of the necklace well and it’s craftsmanship was impeccable, the ring however was an attention grabber.
In all honesty, the young man could see the ExtraOrdinary Wizard wearing any one of these items and as if the image of her would be strengthened in his mind he turned to look again at the Wizard Tower but what he saw now caused him to lose his train of thought.
Cuyler took a step, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the tower. The changes were noticeable even to the common folk. No longer just a symbol of Magyk, the Tower itself looked like a fortress. There was an exceptional purple colour surrounding the tower and the rising sun now glinted off hundreds of bars and metal slabs covering all the windows.
”What do you suppose…” Cuyler knew it couldn’t be good but he managed to pull his eyes from the Tower and looked back to the Ex-ExtraOrdinary Wizard and his friend.
Whispers were already starting around the Market as people began to take notice and Thia had walked over and nudged Cuyler’s leg; she had felt the change as well.
”I do think our time is to be cut short. Allow me to wrap up these items and whichever you choose to gift to Ayra, you may then pay me for,” Cuyler said, already moving to wrap the items in fabric and box them separately. Receiving payment wasn’t a current concern for the young Northern Trader.
Whatever required the Wizard Tower to be locked down shouldn’t be taken lightly. The young man knew Ayra’s temperament and skill level; therefore, he understood that this was no daily occurrence.
It was possible that this was in preparation for the upcoming coronation but something deeper told Cuyler it wasn’t. He only hoped his closest friend was alright.

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No, things couldn't be so simple as that, could they? Absolutely nothing he had tried to deescalate the situation had worked, so fuck it. He wasn't going to try figuring this out anymore. He'd just dump the furball off at the Stranger Chamber and then proceed with what little remaining time he'd had before he had to be at the palace for the Coronation preparations. Now that he thought about it, there really wouldn't be much time at all. He had to make his way back to the tower, then there'd need to be the walk to the palace itself and actually changing into the robes and making himself look presentable and that's not even taking into account running into anything else expected that would eat up more time. He probably should have just gone to the library instead.

Tuning out the thing's pleas for mercy, Atkin picked himself up off the ground, hairy beastie still in the headlock and made his way out of the store. He tried to avoid accidentally stepping on anything important (these books were quite old and probably very expensive and easy to damage); a big enough mess had already been made in here today. At the same time, he kept his hold tight on the thing, but tried to avoid causing undue harm to the thing. He just wanted to be rid of it and not have it make any more ruckus, not choke it out.

Based on how he saw people treat Arya, he wasn't expecting any sort of gratitude from the people when he reopened the store's door. People just took most things done for them by Wizards as a given, so there were no delusions that everyone would cheer and thank him for wrangling the guy into submission. What he didn't expect was for them to not notice at all. There were still quite a few people hanging around the storefront, but they were all very engrossed in various conversations they were having.

"And when I saw the beast," said a middle-aged, overweight woman in expensive attire to a gaggle of her peers, her many chins/neck flapping about with every overly dramatic gesture she made. "It took notice of me and leapt for my throat. It almost had me too, but I managed to swing my purse just in time to knock it out of the air," she continued as she whipped her cinder block of a purse as visual demonstration. Everyone listening to her clapped in awe of her bravery but soon chimed in with their tales of great heroism in the face of lethal danger. Every other clique he could see were having similar such conversations as the hairy creature in his arm continued to plead in his ear.

Atkin reconsidered his life choices. Maybe the Castle guard wasn't such an unappealing profession after all.

With a sigh, the wizard apprentice turned his attention towards the tower to see something really unexpected: the Wizard Tower surrounded by bright purple energy (did nobody here notice? was he the only one paying any attention to his surroundings?). In the short amount of time he'd been gone, something serious must have gone down for the defenses to go up like that. He looked down at the flailing beast in his arm. Maybe it actually was some escaped Magykal or Alchemical experiment that was far more dangerous than he'd thought. Or something. Whatever the case, he knew his own entry to the place wouldn't be obstructed, and he'd be able to drop the thing off at the Chamber. Atkin slipped through the crowd and made his way back to the Tower.

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When Puck made the request about using the line to the messenger rats, she didn't hesitate in her response. "Of course you can, feel free to use it," she said to Puck. She wasn't too sure how others would react to her response about reinstating the Young Army, but she felt like there wasn't much that could be done about it now. What was done was done, and she wasn't going to go back on what she had said. The idea of marrying him was still far-fetched to her, and she wasn't particularly willing to do that.

With the herald returning, she turned to look at him. His words ran through her head as he spoke, and she thought about it for a moment. Why had the Witches come so early? It made no sense to her, but you would think people would get the memo about them being invited. "Let them in, they were invited," she replied, looking at him. There was no point in causing a big commotion about it, and hopefully the guards didn't cause a scene, that was just what she needed.

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Lyra felt a pang of empathy in her heart at seeing tears begin to well up in Myrus's violet eyes. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, yet nevertheless she spoke the truth knowing full well that sometimes it can be painful. In the end, she found that the truth had a way of hunting people down, so to her lying would only put off the inevitable pain to come. This case was no different, or was it? She felt the need to sugarcoat her words, which contrasted her normally bold tongue. That's the thing about being both bold and empathetic. You bite your tongue to protect others' feelings yet all the while feel like your destroying your own.

She unconsciously bit her lip as she looked up at Myrus. She felt that there was so much more that needed to be said. However, she feared that if she were to be too blunt that she would crush the young prince's spirit. Yet, another part of her wondered if not speaking up would do him more damage in the end. To say she felt conflicted was an understatement. She opened her mouth, willing herself to say something, anything, but her window of opportunity was cut short by a knock on the door.

Lyra looked past Myrus to see two strangers. She glanced back at Myrus, her green/blue eyes widening slightly, upon hearing that these were two foreign delegates standing in her doorway. She didn't need Myrus to tell her that they deserved a show of respect. She was already curtsying deeply and respectfully bowing her head when he motioned to her. When she finally rose, along with Myrus, her uplifted gaze took in both of the delegates before gravitating to Asha the Magykal. She found herself awestruck. The woman was positively radiating in the purple sheen of Magyk. It was a beautiful display, but all the while it was also a show of sheer power. Of all the wizards that traversed the Castle, nothing compared to it, to her.

A light rose tint came to her cheeks before she pulled her gaze away, feeling that it was rude of her to stare. She glanced back over at Myrus before looking down at the ground as the subject turned to more solemn topics.

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Malekith made to follow in behind Fleur, when the sound of the front door being thrown open caught his unenthusiastic attention. It was none other than the old man Sigmund once again intruding upon this private establishment. The man was certainly persistent, persistently annoying. To make matters worse, worse for himself, he had the gall to flaunt his arsenal of named bullets, one of which had the initials of his "dear" Witch Mother Fleur. Malekith tilted his head to the side before precisely training his expression to one of suppressed outrage. Despite what his demeanor would suggest, he was unmoved by Sigmund's death threats. Truth be told, if Fleur died today, he wouldn't bat an eye. After all, he didn't have any sentimental attachment to her, or to anyone for that matter. Nevertheless, she was his leader, and a good one at that, so he had to protect her. Technicalities.

He moved to step in front of her, as if to shield her from potential fire. Not that it would matter. A named bullet would defy all logic to hit its intended target, and no human shield could stop it. Nevertheless, the seemingly protective action in and of itself made it appear that he actually cared. Lies, all lies. Malekith's gaze narrowed on Sigmund, and he raised his hand, intending to use his Darke Magyk to "subdue" the old man. However, Nera quickly beat him to the punch. How rude. As Fleur went around him and approached Sig, Malekith kept his guard up in case the man tried anything stupid. As it turns out though, the only thing stupid was the look on Sigmund's face before he killed over from fright. Lame.

Malekith let his arm fall back down to his side and watched as Fleur cleaned up the mess. As she turned back to face him and Nera, his eyes looked her over, as if to check for wounds. It was a habit of his to act all concerned and whatnot. It was disgusting to him really. He nodded his head in response to Fleur and once again stepped aside to allow her to go up the stairs first.

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When her Witch Mother’s face went as sour as old plum wine, Bell bit her tongue, but it was too late. Responsibility fell at her feet, like a bag of wet stones. She stared at her feet and nodded, tracing alternating circles with the tips of her toes. Conditional or not, Bell knew she should have known better than to ask too many questions and let herself get involved in all this too deeply. Now it seemed as though politics might mar what she had hoped would be a simple reunion with sister Valda, or as simple as these things could be. A hand unconsciously felt the small lump at the bottom of her bag as she thought of Valda.

"She isn't Queen yet."

“Oh good, then we’re not late.” She smiled too sweetly at the guard, honey and nectar made sickly. It was no small source of amusement how much people mistrusted them. Anyone would think the occasional harmless hex or CradleSnatching were grievous crimes.

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Rhys looked over at the boy with a slightly raised brow. Schooling his face to that of a worried neighbor, the rogue's brows furrowed. Tom Meadow, the son of his fence. It was a shame he had been so overcome by some magyk. But it was extraordinary to Rhys, and curiosity was stirred. Someone had meddled with the boy's mind, and Rhys was very curious to find out how- and who. "I'll get him to move." The man flipped a quarter crown to the rat and moved over towards the boy. Concern was the mask he chose.

It was a curious thing indeed. For who was this Carlan and who was going to die? All of them? Perhaps the coronation was a trap? That would cover quite a few 'all of them'. But first he needed to get Tom back to his abode. To that lovely little room- that prison for all magyk. Laying a hand on the boy's shoulder, wary in case the lad lashed out. Rhys spoke quickly and forcefully. "Camouflage and Scream Screen about Tom Meadow be woven. Go you- Tom Meadow- where I Send, Tarry not until the End, Stay you where I Tell, Mark You This and Mark it Well. Go to my loft above your father's shop, within in the room of iron wrought. Close the door fast behind. Then sit and wait and bide your time. Only I can See you." He shielded the lad from sight, sound and set a Sending upon the boy. He would not be able to resist going exactly where Rhys said. Not that Rhys was going to let him go alone. This was a mystery and he was curious. Perhaps he could use this on the apprentice when he got his hands upon the lad.

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@jdh97@BlueSky44: Puck excused himself with a bow, before heading towards the message rat line in the Palace. He knew the way. There was a small golden bell tied to a chain and once run, it would summon an express rat from message rat headquarters instantly, free of charge. Couriers simply weren't efficient enough nor as reliable as a message rat. The herald nodded before heading towards the guards, who parted ways and allowed the witches to enter.

"That's more like it," Jadis said with a smirk, before leading the way into the Palace. By her walk, you would think that it was the day Jadis was going to be crowned Queen of the Castle rather than Valda. It wasn't long until she made her way to the throne room and saw Valda, beaming brightly at her. Her eyes flickered towards Valda's hand and widened for a moment, noticing the lack of the ring. Had Valda declined her brother's proposal? "Little Valda, it warms my heart to see you once more on this Winter Solstice Day. It has been too long since we were together last, my child."

@LadyRunic: Although Rhys' Magyk was exact, it had no influence on Tom. Whatever Magyk had such a hold on Tom's mind refused to allow Rhys' influence to overtake the boy. It was an unintended defense mechanism and meant that the apprentice kept rocking back and forth in the corner, causing the head messenger rat to give Rhys an evil eye. His message had already been dispatched and they had accepted the payment. But it was clear from her stare that if he didn't get Tom out of there in the next few seconds, he was going to be blacklisted from the messenger rat headquarters.

Tom let out a shudder before he began to speak, turning to stare Rhys dead in the eye. "Chop chop, Sweet Charlotte. Chop chop til he's dead. Chop chop, Sweet Charlotte. Chop off his hand and head," Tom whispered. His green eyes seemed to pulse black for a moment before returning to their normal coloring.

@KazAlkemi: "Perhaps a fine mead," Rowland said with a twinkle in his eye before laughing gently. He always found the brews from the Land of Long Nights to be the best he had ever had in all his travels. Rowland looked over the various pieces that Cuyler produced with curiosity. He didn't imagine that Arya ever wore necklaces - the amulet tended to be the only necklace most ExtraOrdinary Wizards wore for good reason. To ever be without it would be akin to suicide. And although Rowland and Yule hadn't exchanged a single word between them, their minds were both thinking the same things.

"It's almost impossible to choose just one," Rowland admitted. "But perhaps the ring," Rowland decided. Yule nodded in agreement. Rowland quickly paid him, looking at the fortress the tower had transformed into with a frown. It didn't bode well at all. He knew that from the security that just appeared, there would be no visitors admitted to the tower. Only wizards would be able to enter. "I am afraid you are right, my dear boy. The charm - please do keep it on you," Rowland then smiled kindly at him, before he and Yule grasped arms. In a moment, they performed a Transport spell, vanishing from Cuyler's sight.

@Nallore: Snaera shot an icy glare at Peter as Luna mentioned having seen him before, to which Peter could only nod curtly. He had returned to the Castle to visit his family a few years back and at the time, his youngest cousin had grown quite close with Myrus and Luna. Luna won't be able to recall exactly why Peter had left the Castle and abandoned the coveted ExtraOrdinary Apprenticeship, unfortunately. Snaera remained silent, seemingly not having any requests at the moment.

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Just as Atkin arrived at Wizard Tower with his captive, two wizards Appeared in front of him. One was Arya's right hand man, Jarvis Yule - another ex-ExtraOrdinary Apprentice. He was easily the best Ordinary Wizard in the Castle - among the living ones, at any rate. The other was someone that Atkin likely would not have met before or seen - Blaise Rowland, Arya's mentor and ExtraOrdinary Wizard before her. Rowland didn't recognize Atkin, yet as Yule turned to look over his shoulder he spotted the apprentice - and the apprentice's friend.

"Atkin, what is that?" Yule asked cautiously. Rowland turned to look as well and his eyes widened, recognizing the creature from his travels.

"Yule, Atkin, be careful," Rowland warned them. He was surprised that Atkin had managed to wrestle a Grula-Grula. They were notorious for being particularly difficult to manage and the only defense wizards had managed to come up with over the centuries was to compliment them. If the Grula-Grula thought they were a guest of extreme honor, they became more compliant - and then could easily be put on a barge to take them as far away from the Castle as possible. Somewhere in the Pyramid Library, Rowland was certain there was a copy of a particular poem of praise that seemed to have the most effect on these creatures.

"Oh great Grula-Grula, I, Blaise Rowland, most humbly welcome you to the Castle and invite you into Wizard Tower as a guest of extreme honor," Rowland said, giving the creature a sweeping bow.

Arya could hear the unlikely group of four, frowning for a moment as she opened the doors to Wizard Tower and stepped outside. She looked at the Grula-Grula with confusion, yet as she saw Rowland she couldn't help but brighten into a big smile. "Impeccable timing as always, Rowland," Arya said. "Someone has decided to reinstate the Queste." (Atkin's message rat will arrive this round - see LadyRunic's post for the message).

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Nera headed back up the stairs, noting Malekith's forced look of concern for Fleur. The very thought of it made her laugh slightly - as if Fleur would need anyone's concern or worry. She was the Port Witch Coven Witch Mother for a reason. If she was the sort that would get injured in an encounter with a fat old drunk, then she wasn't fit for her position. As they headed down the halls, Nera heard a crash from downstairs, followed by some panicked cursing - and then silence once more. One of the pupils must have been practicing her potions, Nera mused.

Once upstairs, Nera's mind began contemplating potential plans. She had already proposed CradleSnatching the Princess-in-Waiting to Fleur. She doubted that it would be particularly difficult. Sure, there were some powerful Reverses that could undo the action, but not many members of the Royal Family actually knew them from what she recalled. It was primarily the Queen who had those things committed to memory and if she wasn't around - well, then it would already be far too late.

"It shouldn't be too hard to gain admittance to the ceremonies. The entire Castle was invited, as well as dozens of political allies across the world," Nera summarized. "It'd be impractical for them to check everyone's invitation and I doubt they have physical descriptions of us on hand. Unless, of course, you think otherwise Malekith?" Nera asked. She knew that Fleur had wanted to consult his expertise on this matter.

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Asha did not return Lyra's blush, however, she did give her a confident smile. While some would have been deeply offended by the stare of a servant, it didn't seem to bother Asha in the slightest. She was similar to Myrus in that way - the divides of social classes did not appear to impact her behavior. In fact, Asha seemed to take a bit of an interest in Lyra. "You are from...the Land of Long Nights, no?" Asha conjectured. "Very few know this, but that is the birthplace of Magyk," Asha added with a bit of a wink.

Myrus hesitated for a moment, before nodding. His expression had become rather grim. "Of course - please, follow me," Myrus said, his voice barely audible. He was still rather choked up about his mother's death. Emperor Taj bowed his head in a show of thanks before following Myrus out of Lyra's room.

"Do come with us," Asha beckoned. "My brother is ever the stoic - but I need not tell you that - yet if he is right, something remarkable may be about to happen..." Asha paused for a moment. "We may be able to uncover the fate of your queen, using a jewel from Odin's treasure room." She then swept out of the room and followed Myrus and Taj. They were headed towards the lower level of the Castle, where the family crypt was kept. Royals had been buried there for generations. A special Magyk allowed the entranceway to it to be concealed from all who were not blood relatives to them, yet Myrus took the hands of each person, ferrying them across the barrier until they were all inside the crypt.

"Mother is there," Myrus said softly, pointing towards a casket set on an ornate table. There was an uncomfortable aura coming from it - yet to Lyra, it will perhaps seem familiar.

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He'd been around the tower for a bit, but he still wasn't used to people just suddenly showing up out of nowhere. When Rowland and Jarvis Appeared he recoiled back and almost messed up his hold on the furry little bugger in his arm. He recognized Jarvis nearly immediately, but Rowland was a complete mystery to him. He figured the old man was a wizard of some sort, perhaps an old friend of the Ordinary Wizard beside him. A street rat like him wouldn't have taken much note of the elderly man even if he had met him during his tenure as ExtraOrdinary Wizard.

"Dunno," he replied to Jarvis' inquiry. "I got roped into dealing with the mess it was making back at Larry's Dead Languages. Ain't had a clue what to do with it once I wrangled it like this so I figured I might as well take it back to the Stranger Chamber. Also pretty sure it was stealing some of the dress robes 'round town. Shot a great stream of them at me back at the store." As Atkin recounted his little run-in with the creature, he noticed the spark of recognition in the old man's eye.

The old man first complimenting the little furball was the first surprise. The second being that he actually turned out to be the former ExtraOrdinary wizard, which would make him his grandteacher. If such a thing existed. This bit of information, along with the warning indicated to Atkin that the greeting probably had some greater purpose, but he wasn't going to let the thing go any time soon. Not while he had no insurance that it wouldn't start causing another ruckus that he'd have to handle.

It was around this time that Arya showed up and he felt his heart rate increase by at least 5 bpm. At the same time, a small part of him quipped that at this rate, the entire body of wizards would be gathered in front of the tower and the extra security would be wholly unnecessary. He wanted to say about three different things then, but another visitor decided to show up to this impromptu meeting: this one a messenger rat.

"Sorry, hold on for a second," he interjected, turning to face the rodent messenger. "Speake, rattus rattus." He'd listen to the entire message, but be thoroughly unimpressed with it all. Did whoever sent this message think he was a toddler who couldn't think? Even his sense of curiosity could be quelled when something was an obvious trap. He'd learned enough about suspicion and skepticism on the streets to know any such proposed meeting from an anonymous source generally ended up with getting jumped and mugged. Not to mention it was Coronation Day and the Winter Solstice. No thank you, sir. He was a bit intrigued if there really was any such book or whether it was some half-baked ploy to kidnap him, but he was too busy with other things to pursue it any further.

"I'm not going to reply. You can be on your way," he told the rat before coming back to the conversation at hand. Now what was he going to try asking about first. What the blazing hell was a Grula-Grula? A Queste? What should he do with this thing anyways? Could you please let him through so he could get his clothes for the impending ceremony? But a lesson from his mother flashed to the front of his mind.

"Don't ya know it's rude not to introduce yourself to others?" WHAP.

"Oh Mr. Rowland, nice to meet you. I'm Atkin Bowman, the new ExtraOrdinary apprentice." As he spoke, Atkin offered his free hand to shake the elderly ex-ExtraOrdinary wizard's. He was far more polite than most anyone got from him, but maybe it was recalled fear that produced the greeting. "And uh, by the by, what's a Queste?" Of all the questions he had, he felt like that one was the one most likely to have the opportunity to be answered directly would pass the soonest. The way Arya spoke carried with it the kind of urgency that people who weren't going to explain concepts they were discussing used before twittering among themselves. The furball could wait until the other stuff was taken care of.

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Luna noticed Snaera shooting a gold glance towards Peter, she could feel the tenseness of the air, as she looked between the two of them for a moment, Luna remembered having a lot of fun spending much of her time with his youngest cousin, and they would all play together when they were younger. Luna wasn't sure why he ultimately turned down the ExtraOrdinary Apprenticeship, but she decided to not bring it up at the moment. She then decided to quickly come up with an idea, just so that she could try and smooth things over, then a thought quickly went to her head, maybe some of the members of the delegation had never seen the castle before.

"How about a tour of the castle and the grounds then shall we?" Luna asked, noticing Snaera was being very quiet, she wasn't sure why but Luna assumed that she was upset for being a couple of minutes later. Luna simply gestured towards the delegation to follow behind her, as Luna calmly walked down the hallway deciding that the Throne Room would be the best place to start. And maybe she would bump into her sister there as well.

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Cuyler wrote down Rowland’s desire for a fine mead in his shipping book so the young man wouldn’t forget. He would find him the finest mead in the Land of Lost Nights and bring him back two bottles.
As Cuyler was packing each item, Rowland expressed his interest in the ring, which was one of the first things Cuyler had packed for him so he handed it over to the elder gentleman quickly. The urgency to be gone was present and felt through most of the market now as people gradually began to notice the change with the tower and the heavy power of Magyk in the air. Cuyler held on tightly to the money he was handed and returned the ex-Extraordinary’s smile. He then looked to the man beside him and gave a nod of goodbye. Yule, Jarvis Yule. The Ordinary Wizard’s name finally came to Cuyler just before both men grasped arms and disappeared. Cuyler blinked a few times, clearing his eyes and then scanned to his left then right to see if they had merely jumped a few feet. Thia seemed to have the same idea as she slid underneath the table and trotted down a few feet left and then a few feet right, sniffing the air as she went before returning to Cuyler’s side. She sat down and looked up at him. Gone. She had come to the same conclusion he had.
They shook themselves out before Cuyler became the salesman once again and began pulling in last minute stragglers. His attention kept being pulled back to the tower but he didn’t seem to be the only one and soon he was having conversations with people trying to guess what it could mean. Cuyler knew he would get a better answer from Ayra herself at the coronation if they got a minute to catch up. But for now he continued to indulge the rumors the townsfolk and traders were coming up with.