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"What sweet magyk is this?" Rhys murmured in wonder as he studied the boy. He needed to move him one way or another but this was curiosity. Who had placed such a influence on the boy? Giving the messenger rat a charming and apologetic smile, he flicked the normal price of the message. Hoping to appease the rats enough not get banned if he did fail to move the young lad. But the thought irked him. "C'mon laddy, if not magyk then brute force." Reaching for the boy, he whispered out the spell intended to lay on the child. Reaching deep and risking much but it was an attempt. "Expel"

Perhaps he could call it worry for his tenant's son, but that would be a lie. Rhys picked up the boy, keeping on alert and ready to block a blow incase the lad had a weapon. He was deathly curious about the boy. Who was Charlotte? Chop, chop though it was enough for Rhys to growl dangerously. This boy was something else indeed. "Ekawa. Xifsnart." He muttered under his breathe at the boy. "Undo any spell upon me!" He added onto the muttered curse for good measure. This was very interesting. Maybe he'd even take the lad to Wizard Tower. He'd have to kill all the wizards in his way, but this was indeed interesting. Turning his head to the messanger rat he smiled with a thought, while he fished out the appropriate coin. "Message for ExtraOrdinary Wizard Arya Rincewind. Let it say. 'I found a lad whispering 'I mustn't tell them. She'll be angry with me. But they are all going to die. Carlan said I mustn't.' Sweet Charlotte was mentioned as well, my dear upstart. I'll take care of the lad, he interest me. You do as well, but first come first serve." Rhys gave a deep chuckle that held dark ripples. "I'll see you soon, my dear Arya. Say hello to that cretin Blaise for me, I'll see him soon too. End message." Picking up the boy he started for the exit if all went well. Though he was wary as he grabbed the boy in case there was a spell or the lad attacked him.

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Fleur was happy the nuisance was gone as they were back to talking about their real goal. The Coronation would be a huge event and just the right time to cause some mayhem. Nera made a good point. "Yes, I agree. However, I feel we should limit the number we bring. Having too many of us there is bound to catch an eye. Plus, we need someone to watch our home in case another fat imbecile decides to come barging up to our door again." Fleur waved the thought off. It bothered her more than she thought.

She was a bit surprised that Nera referred to Malekith. She knew the two of them did not get along well and only did so for her. It was appreciated. "I think we should be able to get in just fine. Still, having a backup plan would not hurt. Mal, any ideas?" She looked over to her brooding warlock, eager to hear his delicious ideas.

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Excitement swelled in Bell’s chest like a bouquet of flowers clutched at a wedding day. She had to reign it in; her steps were purposefully clipped, and in the end, it just looked like she was almost tripping over herself as she followed Jadis past the guards. The vaulted ceilings did something to temper the enthusiasm. All those bricks and dead trees climbing upwards. It wouldn’t be a surprise if they all came tumbling down, just to spite Bell. She stuck here tongue out at them and hurried along.

It was as if the sun rose across Bell's features when she saw Valda. She fidgeted in her Witch Mother’s wake. The energy escaped in a frantic wave and the blurt of, “Oh yes, too long sweet Valda, too long indeed.”

The witch then cleared her throat and took her time to smooth out the front of her dress skirts. She seemed less a slave to the amalgam of nerves and excitement with every moment that passed, and she spoke slower when she said, “Things have been far too unexciting since you left.” Her smile shrank too, and took on a different quality, hard to place exactly.

Though apparently calmer, every now and then she still cast her eyes towards the ceiling, unable to forget where they were.

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Lyra blinked in surprise when she heard what sounded like Asha striking up a conversation with her. Her gaze came up slowly and a breath left her parted lips just before her eyes locked with Asha's. As the woman's words washed over her, the corners of her lips twitched and pulled up into a genuine smile. "Indeed, I am," she replied smoothly. The blush threatened to return though when Asha winked at her. However, apart from a slight rise of her brows and a light chuckle leaving her lips, she was otherwise able to keep her composure this time around. "Is it now?" she questioned lightheartedly, her smile turning into more of a smirk.

She glanced over at the other two, Prince Myrus and Emperor Taj, conversing in her small room. At seeing the solemn expression on the young prince's face, her smirk faltered and a look of sympathy replaced the sparkle that had been in her eyes. Her lips thinned. It suddenly felt wrong to be finding enjoyment elsewhere when Myrus was here and clearly suffering. Her gaze returned to Asha when the woman invited her to come along with them. She hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the book that she held in her arms. She still needed to take the book to Mavis on behalf of Myrus, and she also had Princess Valda to attend to. Nevertheless, it felt rude to reject the imposing woman's offer. Besides, she couldn't deny that she found the woman incredibly intriguing. Maybe it was time for her to do something for herself for once.

After a brief moment of deliberation, Lyra finally nodded her head in agreement. She gave Asha a small smile before turning to grab her satchel and following the group out. She locked up her room before rejoining them as they made their descent down to the lower levels of the Castle where the royal family crypt was secretly held. When it came time for Myrus to lead her across the barrier into the crypt, she looked up at him as he took her hand. She squeezed his hand comfortingly and gave him a reassuring smile in hopes of easing some of his nerves. Once they were all across, her gaze then took in the interior of the crypt.

She glanced back over at Myrus then over at the casket he pointed out as holding the dearly departed Queen Meliscente. She expected the air to be understandably solemn, but what she hadn't expected was to pick out an uncomfortable yet oddly familiar aura coming from the queen's casket. Lyra's pale brows furrowed as a memory resurfaced. She recalled feeling this same aura once when a stranger, who could only speak a very old dialect, came into town. She frowned slightly in confusion and looked over at Asha wondering if the woman with all her Magkyal abilities could feel the aura too.

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Malekith followed in behind Fleur and Nera up the stairs. The unfortunate debacle that had just occurred was already long since behind him, shrugged off as a mere nuisance easily squashed. His dark eyed gaze turned to Nera as she spoke up her thoughts. That's not to say that he truly cared what the witch had to say. Quite frankly, he couldn't care less, but nevertheless, he would keep up appearances. He admittedly found the fact that they were only just now coming up with preparations for the coronation irksome. Fleur's nonchalant idea of mostly just winging it was in strong contrast to his meticulous nature. With that in mind, it was to everyone's surprise that they could cooperate with one another, but perhaps that was a greater testament to his own charisma.

His gaze moved to Fleur when she interjected. He took the thoughts and ideas of both women into careful consideration as the gears in his head already began turning. An opinion on the subject was already forming when Nera broke his concentration by surprisingly turning to him for his consultation. When Fleur spoke in kind, the corner of his lips pulled up into a small smirk. It brought him an indiscernible amount of mundane pleasure for both of the women to turn to his expertise. "As far as getting in, they may indeed not have our descriptions on hand; however, we should exercise caution nonetheless. We must dress and play the part of ordinary members of society. There's no need for extravagance when subtlety is often the key to success," Malekith expressed, looking between both women, before specifically addressing one of Fleur's remarks. "Now, in regards to the numbers we bring, I wouldn't necessarily rule out bringing a decent sized group. If we break are numbers up into smaller groups, come in at different times, and then refrain from mingling with one another for too long, we could easily get away with it. In the end, it would enable us to have more eyes and ears in the room and to cover more ground."

He then turned to Nera. "You spent a fair amount of time in The Castle, so you surely know your way around the place. If the need to make a quick escape were to arise, we would need a quick way out other than through the main entrance. Surely, you have something in mind?"

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Valda just smiled as Puck left to go use the messenger rats. It still took some getting used to that people listened to what she said all of the time. Strange, yet she was kind of happy for them to do it, but she wasn't going to admit it. She waited patiently as they allowed the witches inside, still surprised that they had wanted to stop the group from entering entirely. She wanted to shoot a glare at whoever idea that was. It was annoying, since everyone in the Castle knew that she was a witch, so the question to her was why act that way towards her coven.

Giving a smile, she walked forward to meet them. It had been a while since she last saw the witches, never having gotten a chance to leave the Castle since she was brought to it. "It has been a while, welcome to the Palace," she said, still giving them all a smile. She wasn't too sure about her way around the Palace yet, but she was glad to see some familiar faces who weren't going to be mad at her coronation. In the Castle, people were either with her or against her, she had yet to really find anyone who was in-between about her being crowned Queen. One thing was for certain, it was going to be a long day.

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@jdh97@BlueSky44@Nallore: Puck rejoined them in the throne room, a definite skip in his step. Almost all of the Wendron Witches knew him - he was Jadis' brother, after all. He hadn't been raised to be a warlock, yet he still made an effort to pay regular visits to his sister on the major holidays. Their mother had been a proud Wendron Witch, after all. He was raised in the culture, yet decided to strike out on his own, rising through the ranks of the Young Army until he was the highest ranking officer - the Field-Marshal.

Luna and the delegation from the Eastern SnowPlains would stumble upon the Witch Coven in full, arriving in the Throne Room just a few minutes after Puck had. Yet if Snaera's behavior had been cold before, she looked positively livid when she saw Valda. She drew a revolver from underneath the folds of her dress and aimed it at the Queen-to-be. "Princess Valda Kaur Kaimana Sarai, as an acting representative of the Eastern SnowPlains, I accuse you of the murder of Emperor Boreas," Snaera said, cocking the revolver. "How do you plead?"

@LadyRunic: Rhys isn't having much luck spell wise. His Expel fails to produce any results, with there being no corresponding change in Tom's behavior. The reverse Transfix similarly gave no results. However, two of his spells do have interesting outcomes. Now, Awake is a spell used on jinn - and Rhys performed the reverse of it admirably. Yet with no jinn around, an interesting unintended consequence happened. All of Rhys' clothing suddenly turned a lovely shade of fuchsia! There were a few squeaks coming from the message rats in the area, all who clearly found it very amusing. His attempt at undoing all spells on Tom actually caused Rhys to get a splitting headache, yet it faded as quickly as it came.

And there seemed to be little to no change in Tom. The boy didn't protest, however, when Rhys picked him up and carried him out. He just kept muttering nonsense under his breath to himself.

@KazAlkemi: As Cuyler continues to glance at Wizard Tower, he'll notice no visible change. The tower remains in lockdown. There are a few rumors circulating, with one individual claiming that it's the ghost of DomDaniel, one of the Castle's worst ever foes, come back to punish the current ExtraOrdinary Wizard for keeping the Darke out of the Castle. Another theory is that the Wendron Witches had begun their assault on the Castle's way of life and the wizards were preparing for war.

"None of these theories even come close," a ghost said, Appearing to Cuyler. It was a young yet ancient looking man, wearing the black robes of an Alchemist.

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The Grula Grula hesitated, before giving a sweeping bow to Rowland and tipping an imagined hat. "I am so honored, Your Magykalness," the Grula Grula said before standing to full height. Rowland smiled kindly at the creature, relieved to see that it had worked. However, he could no fault Atkin's methods in the slightest. He extended a hand to Atkin after he introduced himself. "Please, call me Blaise," he said kindly.

"Atkin, please grab a SafeCharm from the Pyramid Library when we are there next," Arya said, frowning a bit. The message rat hadn't been quiet and she disliked the fact that someone was sending messages such as those to her apprentice. She hadn't received terrible things like that in her time - well, there had been a few but it wasn't common. She then pursed her lips, mulling over how to answer Atkin's next question. "The Queste is a rite of passage for ExtraOrdinary Apprentices," Arya began to explain.

"We draw a stone from the Questing Pot and should this stone be marked with a Q, you must embark on the Queste. I can think of only two apprentices who survived the journey. Yet I did not tell you this when I offered you the chance to become my apprentice as all the marked stones had been drawn centuries ago."

Yule's blood went cold. "How did someone reinstate the Queste? There are no more marked stones..." he pointed out, yet he knew that Arya would have an answer for him. This wasn't something to make light of by any means.

Arya thought about it for a moment. "I have a theory," she mused, before reciting the password to the tower and motioning for the others to follow her inside.

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While Nera could understand the temptation to bring in a large number, it seemed too risky - especially for a plan being formed less than two hours in advance. The other members of the Coven were not nearly as crafty and sly as this silver trio. Not all of them were the proper age as well. There were some younger members of the Coven that would likely tip their hand while even trying their best. Besides, they knew where the princesses would be - in front of everyone. The dignitaries would be placed towards the front in positions of honor. She didn't see a need to scout.

However, she could agree with the need for appropriate dress. Wearing a witch's cloak would not help them to blend in as common citizens of the Castle. She smirked slyly as Malekith asked her for suggestions on ways to leave the Castle undetected. "There's an old smuggling tunnel that lets out in Alchemie Way," Nera suggested. She couldn't help but grin. "It's called the Smuggler's Bolt - and it connects here, to the Port. It's ideal. Very few know about it as well."

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Asha's eyes seemed to be dancing with Magyk as she turned towards her brother, Emperor Taj. "It is as we suspected - Тиме Стоне," Asha said. Her purple gem seemed to be glowing intensely, the light only becoming stronger the longer they were in the presence of Queen Meliscente's corpse. Emperor Taj bowed his head with a sigh, before he turned to Myrus. "I am sorry to have to tell you this, Prince Myrus, but your mother's death is as I feared it to be."

Myrus' eyes were red and a little bit swollen. He had been crying softly as Asha and Taj inspected the tomb. He awkwardly wiped them dry on his sleeve, before looking at Emperor Taj with anticipation. He hated thinking about his mother's death, as it always raised more questions than it answered. Emperor Taj reached out and squeezed the boy's shoulder, before his eyes glanced over towards Lyra. "Was my mother murdered?" Myrus asked, breaking the silence.

"There is much that you do not understand, Prince Myrus," Asha said, her voice soothing yet strong. "What do you know of the бесконачни каменци?"

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As Luna continued to walk, she looked at the members of the delegation, as she started to give a brief history of the castle as she walked down the various hallways. Until they were at a set of doors that led to the throne room, when she opened it Luna paused for a moment as her eyes wondered over to the coven of Wendron Witches that were in the room. Then she spotted her sister as she was about to take a few steps forward to greet her, she would occasionally give the witches an odd glare. She like her mother did have a strong dislike for magyk in general.

Then Luna heard Snaera finally speaking up, not in congratulation on her upcoming coronation, but to actually accuse her sister of murdering Emperor Boreas. Luna knew that the woman was cold towards her in her original greeting, though she was late by fifteen minutes, Luna saw Snaera pulling out a revolver from her dress folds. The situation was now getting really intense as Luna quickly jumped in front of Snaera looking up at the woman.

"Now, now, lets not do anything to rash." Luna said trying to calm the situation now, looking at the group of witches, as well as Puck and Valda. "That is a very serious allegation, I have not known my sister for to long. However I do know her well enough that she would never do such an evil act. Is there any proof to what you are accusing the queen to be of your accusation?" Luna asked, she was used to working on diplomacy which was something Luna was taught growing up since today was originally going to be her coronation until Valda's return, and the witches were probably thinking that she was trying to take the crown at least in her mind that is.

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Atkin looked at the Grula-Grula with a mix of incredulity and weariness. The more he saw of this thing, the less he understood or cared to be around it. When he first saw it, he might have considered it almost cute in the same way you'd consider something like a stray mutt cute. But after having to chase it through a book store, wrestle it into submission and then listen to it whine and plead continuously in his ear for the past half hour, an charity he had towards it had been converted into annoyance. And to top it all off, the nuisance tipping a hat it didn't have just made the entire situation excessively ridiculous.

Taking his eyes off the furry little creature, he directed it first to Rowland's hand, which he took in his own for a firm shake. He could feel just how much age had affected those hands immediately. The skin was loose and he felt like the bones would crumble if he squeezed too hard. He knew this wasn't the case, but the immediate difference between his own hands and than of old timers always caught him a bit off guard.

"Sorry, but I don't think I can do that. How 'bout just Rowland?" It didn't sit right with him to call any senior citizen by their first name, especially when he didn't know them like in this case. Perhaps it was that bit of politeness that his mother, siblings and society had beaten into him over the years that said you should respect your elders. Perhaps it was that he couldn't treat someone with such an age gap with that level of casualness. Or it could be that he was ex-ExtraOrdinary Wizard and his brain told him that it'd be wrong to act as if they were anywhere close to equal stature. But he was fairly certain it'd be near impossible to just call him Blaise. The name just wouldn't fit in his mouth correctly.

"Why don't I just not draw from the pot?" Atkin asked in response to all this information. It was the first thing that came to mind and he couldn't keep it down. "Most Apprentices don't go on this Queste in the first place, if only two of 'em ever actually survived being given the task. Then it's not really important to finishing my apprenticeship, is it? If it's something that almost nobody ever survives, then it's not really a tradition worth upholding, innit? Like if this is the reason you set up the wards, then there ain't really a reason to play along with whoever rigged the pot in the first place."

He followed the adults into the tower, puzzled at everyone else's reactions. This seemed to be enough to stick a stick right up their anuses, but the danger seem entire reliant on doing something that could be easily avoided. Just, don't draw any stones. Or just dump the whole thing out and fill it with normal rocks. He really didn't see all the danger everyone else was zeroed in on. However, he could feel he was about to get some lecture about tradition, blah, blah, responsibility, blah, blah, blah, everyone's expectations for you, blah, blah, blah. But this really didn't feel like the proper for such a thing to take precedence.

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Cuyler kept up with all of the rumors, throwing the few words in that were needed to sell another charm or wood carving. Every time a suggestion was thrown out that Arya was the intended target, Cuyler shrugged it off but would glance at the tower nervously. Still no changes and the trader tried to relax a little bit more each time. He knew fully well Arya would care for herself and with the departure of Rowland and Yule, he had nothing to truly be concerned about but it seemed to be in Cuyler’s nature now.
Another customer approached but Cuyler was moving his wares around in order to push a few different products so he didn’t notice who had come to his table.
”And what is your prediction young adventurer?” Cuyler asked with a chuckle. He found that if he threw in words that suggested adventure and travel, people tended to by the more exotic things. He looked up then and saw a very transparent thing. This particular person would no longer be going on adventures. Beside him, Thia growled and looked around curiously but was unable to see anything beyond her senses that something was amiss.
Swallowing, Cuyler glanced around. He never had the gift to see ghosts as some Northern Traders were graced with but he knew that if a ghost chose to, they could appear to anyone. Clearly this one had chosen to appear to him and Cuyler wasn’t entirely sure why.
He glanced around at the crowd but the people were preoccupied with staring at the tower and coming up with their own theories so Cuyler was free to speak with this strange customer. His hand rested on Thia, to keep her from barking or growling further as he looked over this man. Cuyler didn’t have to be from this land to see that whoever this ghost was, in his living days he was an Alchemist and seemed to have experienced hardship when alive.
”You know the truth of what is going on,” Cuyler stated. ”Is the ExtraOrdinary wizard safe?”

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Fleur took into account both her cohort's suggestions. They had reasonable advice to offer, but she had the final say in all matters. She trusted herself above all others. "We will dress appropriately. That went without saying. However, I feel that going inside the party would be best with a smaller group. The three of us mainly. However, we should have back-up at the ready at a moment's notice in case things turn. The secret exit will be useful in that endeavor also."

Fleur grinned mischievously as the many dark thoughts raced through her head. OH, the countless ways they could cause trouble today. It made her feel things. "We best be getting ready soon then. Nera, could you inform the others of our plans and find two bretheren to be our back-up? Malekith, please ensure the young ones are satiated with the mothers and gather any provisions you deem necessary to bring. After that, get ready and we'll meet up and make our way to the castle."

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Valda said nothing as Puck came back into the room. She just smiled at her coven, glad that they had come. The whole situation was still a little strange to her, but there was nothing she could do about it. Looking over, she saw her sister come into the room with some of the representatives from another country. She wasn't too sure who these people were, or where they were from. After all, she still didn't know everything about the Castle or the Palace, how was she to know all about the other countries and whatnot.

As soon as she made her accusations, Valda was unsure what to do. She had never been flat out accused, even though many in the Castle believed that she had killed her mother, no one said it out loud to her face. "I don't understand your accusations against me. I don't even really know where the Eastern SnowPlains are. I did not kill your Emperor." she said, after seeing her sister walk in front of Snaera, and hearing her words.

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Carrying the annoying boy from the Headquarters of the message rats and their infernal rates, Rhys grumbled at the horribly colored clothes. Shrugging off the stares and laughter. They were both something he had grown used to shrugging off, what with having Erik as a mentor and all. The Ordinary Wizard had been harsh with his tongue and his apprentice had suffered under it. It was the one thing that Rhys would never regret no matter what happened. The death of Erik had been well deserved by the Wizard. And Rhys had been happy to dole it out after the old miserable windbag had said one word too cruel about his departed mother. Covering it up, however, had been sloppy compared to his schemes now. But experience was key or so was what Rhys understood, and he also understood few had missed his mentor. With a certain regretful twinge the roguish man also reasoned few missed him. He had not been the most likely of Apprentices, nor the most liked of wizards.

Shrugging off his melancholy. Rhys walked towards his home. Working out the story he would tell Tom Meadow's parents as to why his clothes were fuchsia and their son was babbling nonsense. The best he could come up with would be to terrify them into silence. The worst was that he could go dump the boy on the steps of Wizard Tower after a quick change of clothes then be done with it. However, interesting it was. But he had sent a taunting message to the ExtraOrdinary Wizard so dumping the boy wouldn't work for him. But upon reaching his home and undoing the spells about his rooms, if Tom Meadow's parents noticed their son. Rhys answered truthfully. The lad was unwell, a darke magyk had been set upon him. A worried look on Rhys face informed them that the former wizard didn't know what it was. Assuring them he was changing then taking the boy to the Wizard's tower. Which he would, Rhys reasoned, at some point though he knew not when that point would be. Once inside with only himself and the lad, he locked the boy in the prison he had created and changed. Before taking the special map and making his way towards the Wizard Tower. Hoping no one would recognize him. It had been several years after all.

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The arrival of Puck was rather overshadowed by the accusation of murder. Bell let out an overly dramatic gasp. The absolute audacity of that Eastern SnowPlains representative could be nothing else but amusing; Valda was not a murderer, that was fact to Bell. The little princess, the one who had been giving Bell and her sisters all sorts of funny looks, tried to defuse the situation. With the Lion’s share of the coven here Bell doubted Valda was in any real danger, though, the same couldn’t be said for everyone in the throne room.

Proof. That would be interesting to hear; what subterfuge and lies could be spun before them? Bell leaned back, resting her weight on one leg with arms crossed. Her foot tapped: waiting.

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Lyra watched Asha closely, as she was filled with a sense of certainty that the Magykal woman had the answers to all the questions surfacing in her mind. What was that aura that even she, a wholly Non-Magykal being, could detect? Could the others in the room sense it as well? And what bearing, if at all, did it have on the untimely death of the dearly departed Queen Meliscente? Perhaps considering her station as a mere servant, it would have been more befitting for her to hold her tongue on the matter, but she wasn't most servants. Perhaps considering the solemn circumstances, it would have been more appropriate to not ask probing questions. Then again, she was infamously known to throw propriety to the wind without a moment's notice. Nothing and no one would stop her from seeking and speaking the truth.

"Do you feel that, that--" she spoke up unabashedly, before pausing just as soon as she had begun. Bear in mind, her pause of speech was not at all due to a sudden dip in her confidence. No, it was that when Asha turned back around, Lyra caught the Magyk dancing in the woman's eyes and the glowing intensity of the woman's gemstone. She would have found herself once again mesmerized by it all if it weren't for the fact that in those same eyes was a look of a grave seriousness. It was a look that only preceded bad news. Her lips thinned, and she glanced back over at Prince Myrus, her heart clenching in her chest. She didn't like to see him, or anyone for that matter, hurting, particularly when there was little that could be done to truly console them.

Nevertheless, she was grateful when Emperor Taj stepped in so quickly to comfort Myrus. She met the Emperor's gaze as he glanced over at her, and her blue/green eyes were filled with empathy. She winced the slightest bit when Myrus broke the momentary silence by asking if his mother was murdered. He was too young to have to ask such questions. He was too young to have lost so much in his life already. She closed her eyes for a moment as she sadly shook her head. When her eyes finally opened again, her gaze landed back on Asha as the woman spoke up.

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Malekith's dark blue eyes looked between the two women, his witch mother Fleur and his more or less secret adversary Nera. He put forth a façade of cordiality, but it was just that, a façade, a mask with which to hide his geninue lack of interest and feelings. He had spoke his piece, and that was all that really mattered to him. Any rebuttal was inconsequential, or was at the very least of very little significance, in his eyes. Then again, he was a part of a "team," so he had to adhere to Fleur's final say so, lest he lose his current advantageous position in the Port Witch Coven. Blasted politics. Nevertheless, in the case that his witch mother made a stupid, potentially life-threatening (obviously referring to his own life) decision, he could rest assured that he would find one hell of a loophole.

To his surprise, and a bit to his disappointment, Nera actually had a solid escape route. Granted, he wouldn't let her take all the credit. After all, it had been his idea to take into account an escape route. She just so happened to know the means to which they could do so. Technicalities. He simply arched a brow in her direction with an expression that more or less said "oh really." He didn't bother to conjure up any more of a reaction than that lest he inflate her ego. His gaze then turned to Fleur as she gave her final verdict so to speak. She mostly agreed to what he had suggested, only dismissing part of it. Personally, he preferred to work alone, so the idea of having less people to deal with and manage had its appeal. Besides, it had been just an idea he had decided to throw out there. It was really no sweat off his back if it was dismissed.

Malekith gave a nod of his head in understanding and acceptance of Fleur's terms. He then met her mischievous grin with a sly smirk of his own. He certainly liked a woman with a dark side. His smirk grew and a hint of desire came to his eyes. It was quickly snuffed out though at what she asked of him to do. Gathering provisions was no biggie, but taking care of children, as in actually taking care of them, ugh. Unless it involved making them disappear, Malekith didn't do children. He had heard that there were apparently certain appealing qualities to children. Apparently. Truthfully, he just didn't get it. I mean, as far as he was concerned, they were just bags of pee, poop, and snot. Talk about gross. He blinked but otherwise kept his features intact.

"As you will, m'lady," he replied charmingly. He gave her a slight bow and then a playful wink, before grudgingly walking off in the direction where the children were housed.

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@jdh97@BlueSky44@Nallore: "Step aside, Princess - your country will need you," Snaera said coolly, but she didn't drop her revolver. Peter Wylie took a step forward, looking at the situation with great sadness. "When news reached us of Queen Meliscente's death, we realized the strange circumstances were almost identical to that of the Emperor's death...They both died unexpectedly and appeared to be aged beyond their years," Peter explained. "And who would have more to gain than a Witch Princess in murdering the Queen?" Snaera interjected. "Perhaps my father was a rehearsal for the murder of Queen Meliscente. But either way, as princess of the Eastern SnowPlains, I find you, Valda, to be guilty. The sentence will be death by gunfire. Any last words?" she said, before motioning for Luna to step aside.

@LadyRunic: The Meadows seemed to be more afraid for their son than anything else, yet for better or for worse, they trusted Rhys. There's no issue as well with sealing Tom inside of the room. The boy isn't making much sense anyways. As Rhys leaves his home, he'll be able to see Wizard Tower has gone into full lockdown. Such a precaution hasn't had to be taken in several years. He'll make it all the way to Wizard Way before the unimaginable will occur - he'll be recognized. "Rhys? Rhys!" It was an Apprentice who was in the same dorm as Rhys during his time at Wizard Tower. He was always rather nice to Rhys - his name was Ernie. He looked like he had seen a ghost. "But...you're dead."

@KazAlkemi: The ghost raised an eyebrow at Cuyler, but couldn't hold back a haughty grin. There was some bad blood between Alchemists and Wizards, but being held as an expert by a Northern Trader was something that Marcellus Pye, the Castle's first ever Alchemist, couldn't help but appreciate. "You fancy her," Pye observed. It wasn't a question. "But your ExtraOrdinary Wizard will be fine...for now, at least. I'd be more concerned about her apprentice."

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Rowland gave Atkin a kind smile and nodded - he understood that not everyone was comfortable going by a first name basis, as much as he himself preferred it. He was confident however that in due time, Atkin would hopefully feel confident enough to call him Blaise. "Just Rowland will do quite nicely," he replied with an amused twinkle in his eye. Despite the gravity of the situation, he was making an effort to ensure that Atkin wasn't taking on any unneeded stress himself.

"Jarvis, would you be so kind as to escort our honored guest to the parlor?" Arya insisted. It was essentially code for get him into the Stranger Chamber so we can deal with him later. Jarvis nodded before giving a sweeping bow to the Grula-Grula, with the hairy creature giving Jarvis one in return. The Ordinary Wizard then escorted him to the Stranger Chamber and once the doors closed behind them, they were out of sight.

With that taken care of, Arya decided it was time to impart some of her knowledge onto her apprentice. She hadn't intended to cover this with him until the midway point of his apprenticeship, as it generally was not relevant until the seven years and a day apprenticeship was complete. But that was simply a matter of tradition - in reality, the Draw could happen at any time. "The Queste is more than a tradition, Atkin," Arya began to explain.

"It was established by Hotep-Ra, the very first ExtraOrdinary Wizard and the crafter of my amulet. The Questing Pot is imbedded with a deep Magyk, forcing an apprentice to pick a stone from its depths should a Draw be called. A Draw is called whenever a Gathering takes place - which is where the ghosts of all ExtraOrdinary wizards still cognizant enough to remember their own names come to Wizard Tower. I lose my authority as ExtraOrdinary Wizard and become one voice among many."

"And it only takes three ExtraOrdinary Wizards to call for a Gathering," Rowland explained. "Living or dead - it doesn't matter. The Magyk is all the same."

"Once the Draw has been called, if you ultimately receive a Questing stone, then you must go on the Queste. Otherwise, you will perish," she concluded, allowing the silence to hang for a moment. "That is why I wish for you to carry a SafeCharm from now on."

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Nera ignored Malekith's reaction to her knowledge of the Smuggler's Bolt. She knew things - it was not her fault that he was ignorant of various means of travel and their uses. In fact, the Smuggler's Bolt was not even the most interesting route to and from the Castle - yet it was the most accessible one. The other one was barricaded behind ancient Magyk that would require assistance to breach.

"I'll inform Medea and Marya," Nera said, nodding at Fleur before heading down into the basement. She knew that she'd find the pair there. They were rather haughty twins, boasting that they could trace their lineage back from before the Castle even came to be - to a world that no one could remember. But Nera knew that their pride was not entirely unfounded. Once she saw the silver haired twins standing over a cauldron, Nera gave them a smile. "Alright, Magniskys, come on then - we've got work to do," Nera said with a smirk. Marya looked up with a sinister smirk and nodded, with her twin largely following her lead.

"Here's the plan..." Nera said, before explaining what had been discussed elsewhere.

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Emperor Taj turned suddenly, looking at Lyra with curiosity. "You feel the remnants of the Тиме Стоне?" he asked. He offered no definition as to what exactly it was and Myrus stared at him with tears in his eyes. He had asked a question as to his mother's death - and here it was, being brushed aside for the moment. He didn't mean to seem selfish or self centered, but as painful as discussing his mother's death was, he wanted to know the truth. No, he didn't want to know - he needed to know.

"My mother," Myrus repeated, looking at Asha with mildly bloodshot eyes. "Was she murdered?"

Asha nodded her head, and to Myrus, it was as if someone had swung a blade and lopped off his right arm. He fell to his knees, grabbing a loose pebble on the ground with his hand and clenching it tightly. He was trying to say something but it was unintelligible - just quiet morose whimpers of a child having to grow up far too early. Asha knelt down next to him, rubbing his back soothingly.

"I understand that you must grieve," Asha said. "Yet we need to know what you know of the бесконачни каменци before we can bring justice to your mother."

Myrus shook his head meekly. "I've never heard that before...I don't even know what language that is..."

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Rhys frowned as he saw the protections of the Wizard's Tower go up. That was not common and had not even happened upon old Eric's death. Though he supposed that was all the better for him. No one suspected the man to be murdered. Though his howling ghost, if it stuck around, would say otherwise. Rubbing the back of his neck the man sighed wearied by the days events. He would have to deal with the ExtraOrdinary Wizard's Apprentice later, if the boy responded to his message. It hadn't been his best work but it had been a chance and he had been horribly bored. As for Tom Meadows. It was why he was slipping into the Wizard Tower. Hoping to look through a few books that were out of his reach about what might be effecting the lad. Though many would assume this meant he cared, Rhys truly did not. It was a mystery. A curiosity and one that had struck too close to his home. Something the man was protective of.

Frowning at the tower, it took Rhys a second to realized he had been recognized. To be fair he had made it all the way to Wizard's Way before that had happened and it was Erin. He had been a kind fellow when they had dormed together as apprentices. Witness to Rhys slow metamorphic change into the man he became before the final snap which Rhys had faked his death. Startled, the rogue Wizard acted quickly. "Disguise me as a familiar face, common in every way, to be forgotten as they look away. Obscure my identity from view. Scream Screen about me and Erin weave." Rhys growled as he grabbed the scrawnier Wizard and pulled him into one of the alleyways. "Tranfix Erin to this spot." The supposed dead Wozard finished the spells and gave Erin a glare as if daring him to undo them. "Yes, Erin. I'm dead. A ghost who can still do spells and drag you in this alley." His voice was tart and bitter as he looked at the man. The smart thing would be to kill Erin, but Rhys was getting a inkling to use Erin to find what he sought. "Keep your voice down."

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Luna turned her attention towards Peter seeing the look on his face, before he finally spoke up it was surpsiing information to find out that both their Emperor and her own mother were both killed in the same way. However Luna remained on her ground as she looked up at Snaera telling her to step aside. She wouldn't allow the princess of the Eastern SnowPlains kill her sister, then she started to remember the information that the messenger rat had sent her. "Listen, Princess Snaera I know you are still grieving for the loss of your father the emperor, but it could also be the Port Witch Coven trying to stir up trouble between our countries. But I may have a lead, if you at least let me try and find the information out, and hopefully claim my sister's innocence." Luna said calmly.

Closing her eyes as she started to remember word for word what the messenger rat had said to her just a few minutes ago. "I received a Messenger Rat just a few minutes ago before I went to gather you and your delegation, the message that was given to me said. 'Princess, wizards don't know everything. Sometimes you need to look at things from a different perspective. I can help you find what really happened to your mother. Meet me at Sally Mullin's tonight at dusk. Come alone.'"

Luna paused for a moment looking directly at Princess Sneara. "If you'd at least let me try and get this information, I would of course share it with you right away, just give me a few hours or at least after the coronation. I beg you to at least try." Luna said looking up at the princess of the Eastern SnowPlains pleadingly.

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"Well that's a load of bullsh-winkle," Atkin said, catching the swear before he fully managed to speak the whole thing. He could feel himself pissing all over a lot of what the Tower stood on, but frankly, he didn't really care at that moment. Or a lot of the time, really. He went along with it mostly because it wasn't worth fighting over, but this certainly was a case of something worth wrestling with.

"What bloo- blimey reason could he have had for settin' up something like that? And how did he even go about settin this up in the first place? 'Hey apprentice, draw from this pot so I can send you off to die and get someone better. By the way if you don't play along you die anyways.' 'Hey, remember how I tried to have you killed? Well your apprentice has to do it too. Don't worry, eventually once enough apprentices have died, there won't be any more danger except that apparently you can just add more murder stones.' There couldn't have been a Gathering or whatever the first few times, since there weren't enough ghosts."

Atkin was certainly more than a little mad and scared about the implications this whole set up had on his chances of living, but that wasn't the main source of his discontent with this whole situation. What was really setting him off was how unjust the whole thing came off. He knew most apprentices were way younger than he was, and didn't really have the same ability to object as he did right now. And that they were essentially made to draw a lot to see if they were killed off was arbitrarily sadistic as far as he could tell.

That the event of people being forced to go on this Queste was well known enough to have everyone react as they did told him that there were enough of these things that more than a handful of people had to go on these Questes and the fact that only 2 survive indicated to him that whatever this fucking thing was, the fact that they survived was not an intended outcome. It would be one thing if this was an optional task one had to decide to take on for themselves despite the inherent risk. As it was, it was a game of Russian Roulette somebody else forced onto you. And every one of those ExtraOrdinary Wizard ghosts who Gathered for Draws was complicit in this.

"No," he stated flatly. He was aware that he was probably coming off as having a tantrum, but it was either that or just let the whole stupid practice continue ad infinitum because he was too scared to do anything about it. Internally, he vowed that he would do everything in his power to stop these Questes as the barbaric ritual it really was.

"I'm not going to go to the Library, pick up a SafeCharm and hope that all the danger just passes over my head so the pillock who happens to come after me will get walloped by it. That's probably what whoever did this in the first place wants, for us to cower while they can do whatever they want. I'm not gonna be some wee hare freezin every half hour cause it thinks it sees a wolf. If this hogwash was able to be set up, and somebody was later able to change the conditions of the whole thing by addin' more. Than it can be undone. Or something. If we can't do something as simple as undoing a bit o' magyk on a pot, how d- darn ExtraOrdinary can the position be?"

It was at this point that Atkin realized how much he'd been ranting. So he shut up before he went too far with his flagrant disrespect for the history of Magyk and the traditions of the Tower and the Castle, as bull-headed as they were. Still, regardless of anything Arya or Rowland would have to say, he was deadset on doing something about this mess, even if that meant tracking down this damn Questing Pot himself and smashing it to pieces or chucking it into the sea. On that note, he had a feeling he was forgetting something.

"Oh fuck. We need to be at the Castle in half an hour."

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Cuyler frowned, crossing his arms and leaned against his table. He had long forgotten to sell the rest of his wares to the customers and frankly didn’t care if they looked at him in confusion. For if anyone were to look, they would see Cuyler talking to himself.
”And what concern would an Alchemist have for the ExtraOrdinary Wizard’s apprentice?”
There had always been bad blood between the Wizards and Alchemists and a lot of he-said, she-said. Who really knew the truth of who set half the castle aflame. Perhaps this man knew. He didn’t look old enough but he carried himself in such a way that suggested longevity and even with the limited knowledge Cuyler had, he knew that Alchemists could create things, like eternal life. Marcellus Pye had made a Tincture for eternal life but it didn’t prevent the aging. Cuyler watched the ghost more closely, was this Marcellus Pye who was gifted with a Tincture from Septimus Heap to look younger again?
Other thoughts circled through his mind, pulling his thoughts away from the stranger ghost to its comment of Culyer’s relationship with Ayra. Of course he cared for the girl, she was his friend but fancy her? Cuyler was certain that was the farthest thing from Ayra’s mind.

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Before she went to her own room, she turned back to Malekith, "Oh, and do try not to harm the little ones, Mal. They are still very much useful." Fleur knew having Malekith handle the children was probably a silly decision, but she wanted to show that she was still in charge. She left to have Nera and Mal deal with their respective tasks as she made her way into her bedroom.

She needed to look the part. She had no fancy dresses to speak of, though. What use would she need of them anyway? Instead, she looked into the mirror she kept in her room and waved her hands as a dark mist cascaded over her. Her current outfit began to elongate and wrap around her. Soon, the fabric changed, the color muted, and she was left with a dress much more fitting for a formal event.

She put on her best sandals and fixed her hair in an up-do. Satisfied with her work, she made her way downstairs to meet with the others.