Amalia smiled warmly at Onyx. She was as kind as she was beautiful, as wise as she was brave. “Truly the Great Mother blesses me with you as my sister-bride,” Amalia told her, squeezing her hands.
The thought of fear being a positive thing had never crossed her mind before. Did the thought apply to all supposed negative traits? Could things that seem bad about a person actually be good in a way? Could their Drakken husband’s cold exterior and his people’s penchant for violence possibly be good? She didn’t see how...

Once their bath was complete Amalia stood before the fire, runnging her fingers through her hair to help it dry faster.
“As there is only one bed, does he perhaps mean for all three of us to share it?” Amalia asked Onyx curiously. “I have never seen a bed big enough for three people.”

Surely... surely he did not mean to... bed them in the same bed at the same time? He wouldn’t... he couldn’t... could he?
The train of thought unnerved her so she pushed it aside. Her cheeks did turn rosy though as she shook her head to dislodge the images her tutors had made her visualize. She knew the mechanics of... the act. It had sounded, and she had pictured it, as messy and painful. To have to endure such things with her sister-Bride there was more embarrassing than she could possibly endure.

Drying and putting on the thin shift she had worn under her gown, Amalia waited to take Onyx’ hand before leaving the room. A servant immediately directed them to the bedroom. Amalia’s breathing got quicker and her grip on Onyx got tighter the closer they got to the room. Her crystal blue eyes were wide with fear. She bit her bottom lip and halted at the door. Closing her eyes, she said a quick prayer to the Great Mother before opening the door and entering the room.
Whatever awaited them, she would face head on.

Xaelia bit back a whimper, her body trembling as the knife trailed its way down her body. The few breaths she dare take were shallow, not trusting any movement, less it cause the ruined dress to slip away. Tears slowly started spilling from her eyes, running down her face as she kept her arms stiffly by her side, clenched in fists.

“Do you like exploring? I heard you talk about your homeland so I bet you do. You must’ve seen many places the bright sun touches. Though I am much more interested in what the sun doesn’t touch.”

Xae was never one for meek actions. But all she could do now was stand there and tremble. He could have whatever he wanted and there was nothing. Absolutely nothing she could do to stop him.

A few deep breaths were drawn in as Xae readied herself for the inevitable. Her eyes closing tight to block the drakkan from her mind.

There was a loud crash of thunder and a shout. Xae cracked open her eyes to see the little drakkan standing as her savior. In the next moment Keregar entered through the door. Tracking in mud and dropping armor as he went. A shred of hope flared in her chest as Keregar walked across the room. Only to be crushed by the bitter truth. He is the fire, and the son is the frying pan. And you are the fishThe holes in Keregar’s amore showing layers upon layers of scars and other wound. So many that Xaelia couldn’t believe that a single creature could have survived them all.

Following Karagen were the twins. Left in their current state, Xaelia was certain that she could have taken them. The pair limped in, one taking note of the knife in his brother hand. The pair bickered a moment, throwing insults. But the words of their father made them wary to linger.

“I hope you’re not a deep sleeper. I’d hate it if you’d miss my little visit tonight”

Xaelia let out a silent sob, at his words, hugging herself tightly, even as the drakkan strutted off, deeper into the house.

And the little drakken remained her silent guard.

“Are you alright? Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to…”

In Spite of it all, the poor boys reaction brought out a choked laugh. She nodded, finally reaching a hand up to wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. Her other one still struggling to hold the martial that was her dress together enough to provide the slightest bit of dignity

“Varzar. The Gems are tired. Lead them to their chambers”

It seemed that the little drakkan was just as quick as his brothers after being given a command from his father. He quickly lead the girls down a hallway, passed a few closed doors. Deeper into the house.

No doubt to keep their treasures well protected, should the occasion every arrive,

Like the main room, the rest of the house gave off the district aura of being temporary. What little furniture there was looking worse for wear and the walls were bare and cold.

Varzar finally stopped in front of the heavy wooden door. The entrance was nearly hidden in the shadows of the house. Varzar pushed the door to reveal a small room. There was a fire burning in the corner, giving off the only light in the windowless room. There were four beds pushed against the wall, but only two of them were adorned with grey blankets and tan pillows. The rest of the room was plain, built for function above all else. But it was warm, warmer than any other room in the house. At the foot of each bed, stood a tuck. Although plain by the standards of the Gem’s, both trunks seemed out of place, far too pretty and fragil for the harshness of the rest of the room.

“ I-it locks he said weakly. He stood a moment longer waiting for the girls to say anything. Before adding a faint “If-I’ll come check on you later. It would be better if you...didn’t leave the room tonight. Good night...Mothers
The last word coming out far more quickly than any of the others before shutting the door behind him.

Xae gave Nadia a wide eyed look. Before turning from her and head to her personal truck.

All of the clothing inside were various shades of brown, blue, green and white. Simple clothing. Comfortable, functional and so different from the ruins of the dress. Xaelia reaching inside and pulled out a long white shirt. Letting the ruined dress fall quickly to the floor. Her movements were quick, matter of fact, as though she had done it a thousand times before. The white shirt had been designed for a man and had baggy sleeves. The shirt ended just at her knee. After that she ran a quick comb through her hair and then stood for a moment, looking for another task to be completed. But there was nothing more to be done.

She stood in the center of the room, looking lost for a few seconds. With a cry she fell into the floor, crumpling into a tight ball as tears started falling down her face. Her body shaking as sobs wracked it.

It would seem that the exertion from her husband and sister bride's activities caused them to feel worn and sleepy. From her place on the bed, she heard them rise from the chair. Adore lifted her eyes from the book she had been reading, a romance novel of sorts. She had not anticipated that this would be something Kagan would own but she found it delightful. It was an insight into the mind of the Drakkan. She watched the two approach and set aside her book, curious as to what would happen next.

Kagan lay Bree on the bed and himself next to her, the two cuddling close. He said something about sleep and Adora sighed. She should have known better than to expect a virgin to go a second round. This had been a new experience for the two. She took the time to blow out the candles before returning to the bed. Curling up against his back and closed her eyes, fingers gently tracing the muscles there.

She could not quite sleep though. Adora was feeling rather lonely and abandoned. She had gotten her hopes up that perhaps this night could bring her some sort of pleasure and instead she was slightly frustrated. Not that it mattered in the end. As time passed she opened her eyes and could hear the deep breathing of the pair beside her asleep. Adora sat up slowly and watched them a moment. They looked lovely together. She smiled and as carefully and quietly as possible removed herself from the bed, brushing a light kiss across his shoulder before leaving.

Fixing her robe, she padded silently across the carpet strewn floor back to the window she had first looked out. As quietly as she could she opened it and leaned out. She pushed back her sleeves and let the raindrops pelt her open hands. The coolness of the water was calming. Again, she closed her eyes. Her heart was hurting. Adora thrived on physical affection. A simple pat on the head, a soft touch, sitting side by side. It was comforting. But here she was alone. She wondered if she would spend quite a bit of her coming life by herself. With a shaky breath, she began to prepare herself for that possibility.

A thought, an old wives tale, came to her mind. If a marriage was not consummated in the wedding night it would be bad luck for the relationship at hand. Of course, this was no real marriage but she could not forget something so often repeated by the woman who had raised her. Suddenly, another thought accosted her calm silence.

She had failed. Adora had been told she was to make herself worthwhile to the Kinner. She was supposed to have slept with him this night. Her eyes flashed open. She was going to die. Kagan would return her to the prince and she would be killed. Panic set it. She had been too confident. She had not anticipated that her partner had never been with a woman before. Her heart raced and her vision became blurry with tears. Withdrawing her hands from the night air she looked back at the sleeping pair on the bed. What was she going to do? She wasn't ready to die. There was still so much she wanted from life. Not everything she had dreamed of since childhood, but there was still plenty for her to accomplish here in Drakka. Right?

What if she escaped? She tried to calm her breathing but it was coming out raggedly. She could not risk waking the sleeping pair. Carefully she walked across the room. She could barely see from the tears in her eyes and the darkness of night. Slender fingers reached out and touched the door handle. If she escaped perhaps she would not need to go back to the Prince. But... What about the other Drakkan? What if she was caught and tortured the rest of her life? What if she was killed anyway? No, escaping would be a bad plan.

She removed her hand from the door and her eyes found the bottle of wine from which they had been drinking. She made her way to the couch and picked up the bottle from the table. Ignoring the glasses, she took a swig straight from the bottle and sat down. She could watch her partners from here. Drawing her knees up to her chest she took another drink.

How dare they sleep so peacefully. How dare they... If she killed Bree she would be the only one left right? She wouldn't have to go back. Or maybe she should kill Kagan. She thought she'd seen a knife beside the platter of fruits that had sat with the wine. Angrily she buried her face in her knees. Of course, that was a foolish idea. If she killed Kagan she would go to someone else. Probably still be killed by the prince. If she killed Bree Kagan would make her life a living hell. These simply were not viable options. Maybe the prince would take pity on her once he learned of the situation... She severely doubted it.

Lifting her face, she watched the forms again and chugged some more of the wine. She cursed them. She cursed their happiness. She cursed the rest of their very longs lives they would get to live. She cursed the children they would bear. Fuck them. She downed the last of the wine, as there had not been much left, and set the empty bottle back onto the table. Adora let herself fall to the side and hide her face in the couch as she sobbed silently. She didn't want to die. She couldn't yet.

Time passed and her sobs dissipated. Soft words filled her head. "We are but leaves on the river of life. We drift and go where it shall take us. Don't be afraid of what is to come for the river takes us exactly where we need to go in the end." Yes. In the end. That could even mean the actual end. She sniffed and wiped tears from her face. A flush appeared on her cheeks, ashamed for the dark thoughts and evil deeds she had considered doing. How foolish. How childish. With a deep breath, she accepted what her fate would be. It could not change.

Adora turned her back on the pair and curled toward the back of the couch, falling into slumber.

---

When she awoke again it was to the morning. Curiously, she found herself snuggled against Kagan yet again. Adora did not remember getting up after falling asleep on the couch. It did not matter much. The sky was just turning a soft shade of blue. She had woken up later than usual. Once again, as silent as an Olka, she started her day. She did some stretches to allow her body to regain its movement for the day. She removed the robe and looked through her trunk of things. She found a pair of long, close-fitting leggings, a low cut dress that ended at the knee with a slit on the left side to allow for greater movement, and a jacket which hooked under her breasts to really bring them out to the forefront and accentuate her curves. It had been a favourite outfit before she joined her parents. Lastly, she pulled on soft leather boots that were made of dyed leathers.

Using her precious sash, she tied her hair up, the curls falling just below her shoulders. Once dressed for her day she cleaned the girls' dresses. Her own she folded into her belongings. Bree's she draped across the couch. Adora pulled her own secret recipe for a good morning tea from the bottom of her trunk. Her fingers skimmed the cover of the child's book she had brought with her. Just knowing it was there brought her strength for her day. Today she was to die after all.

She found three mugs into which she placed the loose leaves, poured water, and waved her hand in a circular motion over the cups, heating the liquid. She would let them steep as she cut apart and prepared some of the fruits for consumption. Once satisfied with the spread of fruits, bread, and cheese she set everything out on the table. Lastly, she took each cup and removed the water from them. She shook out the dry leaves and placed the brew back into the cups, setting them on the table as well. She placed a small pot of honey out as well, should either Kagan or Bree need to sweeten their drinks. Adora took her own, heated it further, and went to stand by the open window. She watched the sunrise and the city awaken as she calmly sipped her tea. The flavour was akin to a mixture of Earl Grey and Lavander. Calming, slightly bitter, and with a slight hint of citrus. The drink would allow the person to wake up and give them energy for the day without the crash that some of these drinks could cause.

The wooden floor was cold beneath her body, even though her husband was gracious enough to provide them with bed rolls. It was almost strange to her, how uncomfortable she was given the temperature of the room. She was used to sleeping on the ground and with less than what Ineraz had given her, but the climate of Drakka was more harsh than her home.

Was it ever really a home?

A smiling boy… cheerful and laughing.

It was a home then.

Sera’s forehead knotted into a wrinkle as her brow quivered slightly. A small tear formed in the corner of her eye but it would never kiss her cheek. It remained there, as the girl stared harshly at the door, silently praying for his memory to disappear. It would take countless hours for the girl to fall asleep between tossing and turning, until finally… she settled.

Crimson eyes shot open, startled by the ghosts in her dream. She gasped for a breath that wasn’t there, heart pounding against her chest. After a few long seconds, which felt like minutes, her breath steadied and her heart calmed. Sera’s eyes wandered around the room, looking for any threats that had managed to creep their way in while she was sleeping - there was nothing. She looked up to where the bed was, her sister bride? And husband were sleeping soundly.

It’s just in your head…

The girl quietly lifted the blankets off of her and slid out of the bed roll. She stood erect, quietly observing the sleeping couple. There was no way she was going to sleep now and she was curious about the new place that she was in. Surely, there would be no harm in peeking around? Her bare feet walked silently across the room, the moonlight from a nearby window lighting her path. Her hand reached out to the doorknob and fell still on it as she looked back over her shoulder to make sure Ineraz and Zeldria were still sleeping. There had been no movement in the bed; it was safe to proceed. The doorknob turned lightly and she pulled open the door enough for her to slip out quietly. As Sera emerged in the hallway, she left the door ajar behind her. She took three quiet steps forward before allowing herself to take a breath; she had been holding it for a reason unknown to her, she didn’t even know she was doing it.

Sera walked quietly down the hall, admiring the murals on the wall. She had passed most of the magnificent paintings on her way to the bedroom, but she never had a moment to enjoy them. Her hand reached out to the wall as she walked, trailing her fingertips across its surface. She felt the heat beneath her fingers as they traced the grain in the wood; a slight hint of sulfur tickled her nose but she didn’t stop. Sera continued to walk down the hall, leaving behind fingertip sized scorch marks as a trail. The girl’s feet slowed to a halt when she found herself in front of a particular painting; it was the largest one she had seen yet. It was bordered with a golden frame and inside it was a man that looked like her husband, but older, a lot older. Next to the man was another that looked like him, this one was younger… Sera was completely mesmerized by the grand picture in front of her that she stood completely still in front of it.

An almost inaudible rustling sound interrupted Ineraz’s sleep and at first, he thought he was dreaming. When faint footsteps joined in, his mind startled him awake, convinced that an assassin had come for him. This line of thought led him to keep up the pretense of sleeping, while he waited for the person to do something. The soft click of the door opening a few moments later woke him up fully. He sat up on the bad, and glanced at Zeldria, who still appeared to be sleeping. His eyes moved over to Sera’s corner, and she was gone. Not entirely unexpected. If it had been an outsider, he would have woken up as soon as they attempted to enter.

He slipped out of the bed, hoping Zeldria would not wake up or at the very least, not attempt to do anything unnecessary if she did. Just in case, Ineraz picked up his crossbow, which was hanging from a hook on the wall, and took the accompanying bag with bolts as well, slinging it over his left shoulder. He readied the weapon in his right hand, and exited the room to chase after his prey. He stalked stealthily along the hall, and the trail which the Gem had left behind her did not escape him. Does she want to be caught? He raised a brow in disbelief, but followed it until his bride came into sight at the end of the hall, where she stood in front of some of the Evrenarth family portraits.

“Couldn’t sleep any longer?” he murmured the question. He was curious whether she had slept at all; there was a slight possibility she had only pretended to do so and waited until a time when she could make her escape. The fact that she was now admiring the manor’s art, however, made that unlikely.

The voice behind her startled her somewhat, her head turning quickly to see who it belonged to. When she had noticed her husband standing there, even though he was her captor, the familiar face eased her slightly. Her eyes flicked over to the crossbow over his shoulder. Was he hunting her?

“I had a nightmare. I can’t usually sleep afterwards.” She responded, alluring to the fact she had nightmares often. Her eyes returned to meet Ineraz’s. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to look around. I’ve never seen a house so big before.”

“So you often wake up because of nightmares...What do you dream about?” he asked, but shook his head just as suddenly, changing his mind. “I don’t believe it matters. As for waking me up, I would be concerned if you didn’t. Most Drakken don’t die in their sleep, and being killed because of carelessness would certainly be shameful.”

He looked at the Gem curiously. She was so different from Zeldria. At some level, he was aware that the latter’s reaction was the more common one, but Sera’s fearlessness in their interactions was truly intriguing.

“I can show you around,” he offered, then cocked his head to the side as he considered the slight Gem. “Is there anything that could help you sleep? Food, or some wine, perhaps?” Bad sleeping habits combined with being in such a foreign environment could prove lethal for the Gem, definitely a situation to prevent if at all possible.

Ineraz’s question sparked an image in her head, one of giant shadowed figures looming over top of her. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished. Luckily the Drakkan decided just what her nightmares were about, were not important. She was not interested in sharing with him that haunting memories of burning her bro…

A quick painful expression swept across her face but she pushed it away, allowing her blank stare to return. Her husband insinuated the idea that she had wanted to kill him while he was asleep. Her face contorted into a confused look as she tried to think of why… it seemed more so, that [i]he]/i] wanted to kill her; he had come with a weapon after all.

“I have no reason to kill you.” She offered, rather bluntly. For most gems, it was a peculiar statement, but for Sera it seemed normal. This man had done nothing wrong to her, if anything, he had provided her with more comfort than she had ever been given before. The way he looked at her curiously caused the girl to reach to her face, as if something was there. “Is there something wrong…”

Did he already figure her out? Was he starting to see the same monster that everyone else did… Her doubt was diminished by his courteous offer to show her around and his interest in her well-being. Although she knew very well that nothing would help her sleep, the gesture was still received well. “Wine? I’ve never had wine.”

Amused, Ineraz chuckled. “Not yet?” he smiled at his quip. “I’d certainly prefer for us to cooperate than try to kill the other,” he stated matter-of-factly.

He shook his head fondly when she touched her face, seemingly worried. “Not at all. I simply like you, sweet one,” Ineraz invoked one of his endearments for her again.

He smiled devilishly at her revelation, a wicked glimmer entering his eyes. “Oh, then you simply must have some! We have several splendid vintages here. There’s a cellar right below the kitchens,” he loosened his hold on the crossbow a bit, now that there was no evident danger, but still kept it ready next to his thigh. “I don’t imagine you will mind a bit of darkness? The lightning has to be kept a bit lower down there,” he explained. He then smirked and added in levity “You could always use some of your fire, hm?” He did not wish for her to actually do so for this venture, so he followed up with a more serious statement. “However, the wines can be sensitive, so it is honestly better not to.”

As he spoke, Ineraz nodded in the direction they would go, gesturing for Sera to walk at his side as he led her to the manor’s cellar. As they went, he wondered how the Gem would be affected by the alcohol.

Sera blinked at the man as he chuckled and made, what she could only assume was a joke. She wasn’t sure how to react, should she laugh? She didn’t bother with a response and watched him curiously as he shook his head at her. “I simply like you”. His endearment caught her off guard; he liked her, why? No one had ever liked her before. There was nothing to like about her. She looked at him puzzled, opening her mouth to speak, but deciding against it. Although she was curious, her husband seemed excited by the fact that she had never tried wine before and for once, she wasn’t going to spoil the moment.

The dark. It was something she had been uneasy about ever since the incident. Funny enough, as she lived the rest of her life mostly in the dark. It was almost a strange form of self-punishment. Sera simply nodded to Ineraz, he had made it clear that the wine needed to be kept such a way, she would not disturb it with her own preference for a light. She joined him at his side opposite of the crossbow as he lead her down the hall, the stairs, and to the cellar. She kept silent until they reached the cellar, and as the door was opened into an abyss of nothingness, her body instinctually grew nearer to Ineraz’s. He had a weapon after all.

“Why.. does wine have to be in the dark?” she asked, her arm now almost touching his with how close she had drawn, not entirely realizing it herself.

For a moment, the girl seemed confused, but said nothing, and just followed him silently. They reached the dark and cramped stairway leading to the cellar, and Ineraz took a moment for his eyes to adjust. There were a few oil lamps which he could and did light down the way, but they provided barely enough visibility so that there would be no unfortunate crashes down the stairs.

Ineraz noticed Sera gradually drawing closer to the point where she almost pressed into his left side. He put his arm around her shoulder and answered her question softly. “Too much light harms it. It affects the taste. Some occasional lightning is alright, but long-term exposure would ruin the wines.” They reached the actual room, which was rather extensive but would still be considered normal for a house this size.

“While we’re on this topic, is there any taste you’d prefer? Sweet? Sour? Bitter? A mix? There are many varieties, but I doubt you would be familiar with the Drakken names, or even the Gemmenite ones, if you’ve never had any. So try describing the sort of flavour you might enjoy. If you remember any types of grapes, fruit, honey or spices you ever liked, that could also help in choosing a bottle.”

The arm came around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Sera glanced over at it, unsure whether or not she liked it, but for the moment she considered it a necessary safety precaution. Her feet finally found solid ground and she looked around the room, curiously surveying it; another large space. Ineraz had begun explaining wine to her, and she did her best to listen, but her eyes were content on remaining on the darkness in the room. What lied within it… the possibility frightened her.

Ineraz had asked her preference, but nothing came to mind. There was so little that she enjoyed in her home, and what she did enjoy she wanted to forget. Without moving her eyes from their fixed spot on the shadows, she lightly turned her head toward him to at least signal she was listening. “I will have whatever your preference is… I don’t have one myself.”

Her head turned back, her body inched closer to her husband, and she swallowed hard enough to make a noise. It was clear she was uncomfortable in the space, and as her nerves grew, her body began to become warmer. Ineraz would notice the temperature change in her, surely, as his arm was wrapped around her.

Ineraz watched as Sera stared into the darkness. Was it possible that a fire Gem was actually disturbed by such a thing? He would find it strange if that were the case. “I wouldn’t recommend what I’m having, Drakken generally prefer much stronger beverages, or so I’m told.”

He was about to proceed and pick out a bottle or two, when Sera’s body heated up and she whimpered quietly, almost curling into him. Ineraz furrowed his brows in mild confusion, but attempted to calm her down. “Don’t worry, little one. I will be done here very soon and then we can leave,” because it seemed like the thing to do, he kissed the top of Sera’s head. Hopefully, she would not cause damage to the cellar if she panicked any more. He had heard rumours that hysterical Gems could do actions which were usually considered unlike them, such as attacking and harming others or damaging valuable property.

The feeling of his lips against her head drew attention to her own rising body temperature, even more so when Ineraz offered her comforting words. Sera drew three deep breaths, attempting to sooth her nerves, it worked mildly as she began to cool. Ineraz removed his arm from her, moving to pick a wine. She stood as still as a statue with no one beside her to protect her from whatever loomed in the darkness. She didn’t care what wine he was picking, she just wanted to leave. As soon as he returned to her, she turned and began her ascend up the cellar stairs without a moment's warning. Her pace was much quicker than it was on their descent, she barely even waited for the Drakkan.

Sera emerged from the cellar into the kitchen. As she walked into the moonlit room, her heart slowed and her temperature returned to normal. A slight of embarrassment washed over her; such an emotion was odd for her to have. Her face fixed on the floor, as her red eyes peered up to Inereaz from the corner of her face in what could be described as shame. “I’m sorry. I don’t care for the dark.”

Ineraz left Sera’s side for a moment, and picked up a very mild and sweet wine for her, then took one of the stronger spiced meads for himself. This time it was him following Sera up the stairs and he watched her back as she practically ran up the way they had come.

Once they were both in the kitchen, she looked up at him shyly, seemingly self-conscious. “No need to apologize,” he waved his hand dismissively after he set the two bottles down on the table. “I wasn’t aware you were uncomfortable with darkness,” he commented, as he took a few steps to the nearest cabinet and fetched them two glasses. He opened the bottles and poured for them both. He set the wine in front of Sera, and warned “Sip slowly.” He, on the other hand, took a rather generous measure of mead, and it slid easily and pleasantly down his throat. “We can move to a sitting room,” he noted after he almost emptied his glass already. As long as he could drink companionably with his bride, he didn’t much care for the setting they did it in, but if the Gem wanted to relocate, they could.

Sera recomposed herself and watched as her husband poured her a glass of wine from a different bottle than he was heaving. He hadn't listened to her about wanting the same thing as him; she didn’t blame him. Her hands wrapped themselves around the glass placed in front of her, a small thank you escaping her lips. She watched intently as her husband drank a large gulp of his beverage, she wondered why he had cautioned her but did not heed it himself. “I thought I said I would have the same as you.” she stated, anyone would find her words a challenge but she didn’t mean them to be. Her blunt expression was often misinterpreted.

The girl looked down at her drink, there wasn’t much in the glass, only a few mouthfuls. Sera lifted it off the table, sniffing at the rim of the glass. She contemplated for a moment and without taking the caution that accompanied the beverage, she quickly guzzled it down in one swift move. The harsh taste painted her throat, a disgusted look appeared on her face, and small repetitive coughs escaped her. She quickly placed the glass back down on the table and stared at it, as if it had assaulted her. “You like this?” she questioned, her big eyes now looking up at him.

It was possible she had simply drunk it too fast to enjoy its taste, but she wasn’t ready to give up so easily and pushed her cup toward Ineraz. “I want to try the one you’re having.”

Sera accepted Ineraz’s offer to relocate and she started toward the other room, passing a look behind her at her husband to make sure he would follow her and bring their drinks with him. “Are you coming?”

Ineraz gave Sera a rather feral grin at her assertion of having wanted the same, torn between amusement and provocation, and bared his teeth to her, but did nothing beyond that simple warning. Despite his caution, the Gem drunk the wine swiftly, then coughed, looking displeased at the taste. Ineraz rolled his eyes at the sight. Amateur. Exasperated, he raised a brow at her, smirking at her disapproval.

“Alcohol takes some time to get used to,” he explained to her. Had he been younger, he might have teased her about her inexperience, and that she had her refusal to listen to a superior to thank for her miserable experience with the wine. However, he simply continued observing her in amusement.

He looked at Sera with consideration when she pushed her cup towards him, and finished off his own drink. Before he could fulfil her request, she once again moved ahead of him. Baffled, but also in a good mood, he stoppered the bottles, held both under an arm, picked up the two glasses with the same hand, and followed her.

“Oh, and you know where to go, do you?” Ineraz questioned mildly, but did come after her, then directed her to a nearby sitting room. He lit it as they entered, mainly for Sera’s sake. His crossbow, he set on a high drawer, where Sera would be hard pressed to reach it, though she didn’t seem inclined to attempt murdering him so far. He sat on a comfortable leather-cushioned chair beside a table, and set down the drinks yet again. This time, he poured the mead for both of them, and gestured Sera to take the seat opposite of him.

“You might like this one better,” he shrugged a shoulder in a very unconcerned manner, and sipped his mead. If she wasn’t inclined to listen to his suggestion, perhaps she would take her cue from him as she had before.

Sera herded in the direction of the sitting room with the help of Ineraz. She could feel a slight flush sweeping over her face, an obvious result from drinking an entire glass of wine in one sip while also having a mostly empty stomach. She watched as Ineraz took a seat in a chair, she sat opposite of him as he had suggested, and reached for the glass he offered. Again, the girl sniffed the rim of the cup but this time she sipped it lightly. Despite taking his caution, the taste was still awful. Her face twisted into a knot once more but she shook it off and took another sip.

“Ineraz, Sir.” She started, her eyes fixed on the rippling of the mead in her glass as she made small circular motions with the dish. “What does a bride… do?” she asked, curiously though flatly. Her gaze moved from the glass to her husband. “I know I belong to you now… but I still don’t know, what is a bride?”

Pure innocent curiousity flowed from the girl. Sera hadn’t spoken with someone in this manner, or at all, in what felt like years. She had never belonged to anyone or anywhere. No one had wanted her. And for some reason, this person did. The question as to why still filled her head, there was a reason for her being there. It was to be a bride, but what did that mean for Drakken? What was expected of her?

Ineraz softly snorted when he saw Sera grimace at tasting the drink. “Not for everyone, I suppose. Though you might enjoy Gemmenite alcohol,” he mused. If it weren’t such a wasteful expense, he would have considered buying a vintage from her homeland, but saw no reason to do so.

He blinked at her next question. Hadn’t the Gems been told at Shadow Worth what was expected of them? “Brides are intended for procreation with Drakken males. There are very few Drakken females left, and those that are, typically choose themselves whose wife they will become,” he took another leisurely sip of his drink before continuing. “Being a bride means that you will never be considered my equal. You will not be able to become my wife. Even if I wanted it, it wouldn’t be proper. In the eyes of the Drakken, you are my property. I could do whatever I wanted to you or with you, and no-one would have any issue with it.”

He caught her blood red eyes with his own gaze, and stressed his next words. [/color=008B8B]“Indeed, you belong to me. And I do want and expect a child by you. But equally, I desire for you to be my lover. To have you agree to the pleasures I could show you, and take joy in them as well.” [/color]

Another sip of mead fell on the girl’s lips as Ineraz blinked at her curiously. It was obvious he was surprised by her question, and he had every right to be, Shadow Worth should have taught her these things and they likely had but her experience there was nothing but a blur. She hadn’t retained anything but the punishments the Drakken had given to the girls. Those Drakken were nothing but brutal monsters, impatiently waiting for the opportunity to force their power upon the Gemmenites. This Drakkan, Ineraz… her husband, however, did not seem to be the same brutal monster as the ones she had encountered already. Sera listened contently as Ineraz explained what it meant to be a bride. Procreation. Property. A child. A lover.

Her purpose was to bear him a child. He had free reign over what he did with her, no one could protect her from him. And yet, he didn’t choose to simply take what he wanted. He wanted her to be his lover. The concept was foreign to her as she scraped through her mind to what that meant, or even looked like, outside of simply procreating, as he put it. Pleasure. Joy. A memory of her parents locking lips before one of them parting came to her mind; the look on their faces after the act, their smiles spread from ear to ear. Pure joy. Sera’s eyes fell on her mead once more, taking another sip (this time with less of a disgusted twinge afterward) before placing the glass on a nearby table.

The girl removed herself slowly from the chair she was in and walked lightly toward Ineraz. Her feet slipped in between his legs and she looked down at him now, curious eyes studying his face. She reached out to him in the same manner she had done in the room, her hands finding a place on either side of his face. Her head dropped to meet eye level with his, closely observing him. He wants me to be his lover… this must be the first step.

Sera closed her eyes, her face drawing closer to his. As the two neared, she could feel his breath on her lips. An instinctual tongue wetted her own before she allowed them to press into Inerez’s. It was delicate and soft, but with enough force to tell him she had meant to do it and even more so, wanted to. As his lover. The girl removed her mouth from his after a few moments and took a couple gingerly steps away from him. It was either the wine she had chugged earlier or the very action she had just tried for the first time, but either way, her face was flushed. A small, almost pathetic smile (as if she had never done it before), appeared momentarily before leaving once she opened her mouth to speak.

“I think… I’m tired now. I’m ready to sleep.”

Ineraz watched with a restrained eagerness as Sera closed in on him, stepped between his legs, and once again put her hands to his face, very similarly to how she had done but a few hours ago. He endeavored to show patience outwardly, but his anticipation was too great for him to appear entirely nonchalant.

As her lips met his, he sneaked one of his hands to her waist, holding it there gently, while he moved his other one upwards, his fingers meeting the back of her right palm softly and stroking it as he returned the kiss. He moaned quietly - though this was a very innocent act, there was still a willing bride before him, and the manner in which she engaged him was a great progress towards Ineraz’s eventual goal.

The Drakkan reluctantly released the Gem as she moved backwards. His pupils were slightly widened in lust; her blush was just as appealing as her kiss had been. He returned her smile with a pleased one of his own. “That was very good,” he complimented her earnestly. Behavior like that was certainly something he wanted to encourage and hopefully Sera would take it to heart.

[color]“Very well,”[/color] he murmured at her request. He left the drinks on the table, picked up his weapon - how very much unneeded it had proven, but he would never regret his preference to be armed rather than not - and headed back to his chambers, Sera in tow.

The two of them entered the room quietly, as not to wake the sleeping bride in the bed. Ineraz placed his weapon and ammunition in their proper locations and practically dropped into bed, back into his spot next to Zeldria, satisfied with the events of the evening. Sera watched as her husband moved about the bedroom before finally settling and as she passed the bed toward her bed roll on the ground, she stopped for a brief moment, turning to steal one last look at Ineraz before crawling into the blankets on the floor.

The girl yawned as she thought about the evening, more importantly, as she thought about her husband. For some reason beyond her wildest dreams, he fancied her. Maybe he was just as crazy as she was? Crimson eyes grew heavy as she watched the door to the bedroom, despite the distraction with Ineraz, the monsters always remained.

Scyrven had not meant to fall asleep so readily, but she supposed it was to be expected after the fights and overall .... excitement of the Choosing. As the bride settled, the cool cloth easing her fever, she herself eased into slumber.

She woke up upon the bride slamming out the door, the sound waking her, though outwardly she gave no appearance that she’d woken, keeping her breath even and eyes lightly shut. After only a few moments, the door eased open again, Alfhi’s voice and the bride’s as well. There was a splashing sound, a quiet gasp, and then quiet laughter.

Scyrven sat up in bed, a wry grin on her face. “Alfhi, dear. You know the water goes in the glass, not on poor Hestia’s head.”

She turned then to Hestia, the mirth fading from her eyes. “Our husband has gone... hunting. It is better not to know what, exactly, is his prey.” Her grin was pasted back onto her face and she unfolded from the oversized bed, stretching her arms up over her head and letting out a loud yawn.

“Alfhildr, you should be returning to bed soon, my dear. The morrow dawns early. Hestia, would you prefer to stay in your own bed or come in up here? I worry for your comfort down on that small mattress, pretty one. And I assure you, this bed is entirely big enough for all three of us, should it come to that.”

---

---

As Aurora’s words crashed over her, Miry found she couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe.

Shattered. She hadn’t heard that word in years. And even when she’d last heard it, it had been in whispers. In the Gemmenite court, whispered as the barest rumor of a gem who had, despite everything, fallen in love with her captor. It was the worst insult one could hurl at someone. And NEVER spoken to one’s face.

It was true, of course - she loved Zakroti, loved him with all her heart - but .... it was not her fault her husband was so much more wonderful than his other people. Had his horns been sawn off and he been born on the other side of the Spine, he would’ve fit in. Any gem would have fallen for him.

Surely - yes, it was a terrible situation, but she convinced herself she could not be blamed for the gods having given her this chance. She did not deserve that label.

Her eyes drifted shut and she turned from Aurora, wrapping her arms around Zak’s waist and pressing her face into his side, letting the heat of his rage warm her and melt the fine layer of rime ice that had formed on every inch of her skin.

Aurora wouldn’t require the input of a shattered Gem, would she? Even one who shared more experiences than the feisty Gem could know. Well. Miry would simply refuse to acknowledge the other girl’s existence, either until Ro begged it or until Zak ordered her otherwise.

She barely noticed the commotion in the background, letting herself be held against Zak’s side and swept under his cloak as they turned to leave, the guards falling in step around them.

Shattered, eh?

Better to be alive and of whole body and spirit and “Shattered” than to die in agony, than to die of broken bones and internal bleeding and desperate suicide in a shattered mind.

This was just how things were done between their kingdoms. There was no sense in fighting it. If one happened to have good fortune in this arrangement it could not be held against them.

But however much she reassured herself, she couldn’t rid herself of the foul taste left in her mouth.

Shattered.

It was deep in the dark of night when Zel found her eyes snapping open. She couldn't say what had called her to aking so soon; she had not been through a nightmare, or at least she had not dreamt one, by the darkness of the room she couldn't slept enough for a complete rest, and the room's quiet meant it had not been a noise.

Her eyes widened at that thought. It was quiet- far too quiet. Absent were the sounds of any other creature in the room. She turned her gaze toward the corner where Sera had been sleeping, only to find an empty space. With a start she realized Inarez was also not there, and sat bolt upright in the bed. Where could they have gone, at this hour? Surely he hadn't decided to punish her for refusing him totally now, in dead of night. Had she tried to escape and been caught, then? Somehow that didn't seem right either. The rest of the estate was silent. There were no shouts of guards, nor was there baying of hounds that would surely have been employed to catch a wayward bride. Perhaps, then, one or the other had woken up and stepped out, with the other accompanying them.

Zel took several deep breaths to calm herself. How long was she going to panic at every impetus? Fear had dogged her ever since she'd arrived at the capital, and she had no doubt the Drakken could all but smell it on her. She would have to find a way to steady herself. If she didn't, she would not survive. It was that simple.

As her mind wandered, she held her hands together in front of her. With a push of willpower a small, flickering flame appeared between them that sent shadows dancing about the room. Small though it was, and little help against the cold grasp of the evening, it was still familiar and comforting. It was part of her, in a way, and if that part was still able to dance and shine like so, then perhaps not all hope was lost.

"I do not flinch before the rain and storm," she whispered softly to herself, "I will not flinch here."

The sound of footsteps approaching from down the hall set her to snuffing her flame out and reassuming her place under the covers. Lying down with her eyes closed, she was vaguely aware of two shapes entering the room. One circled for a time before climbing into the bed, the other headed straight to the corner. No doubt it was Sera and Inarez. As they both went back to bed, Zel willed herself to breathe slowly and she soon returned to rest.

She would wake again much later, this time with the glow of the sunrise entering the room. With a stretch and a yawn she roused herself from the bed, as early a riser as she had ever been, and looked around the room to see which, if either of her... she was unsure if she should call them her family, were awake with her.






Wilhelm waited quietly in the bedroom while his brides bathed themselves, occasionally discussing tomorrow's plans with the servant of the house. The messenger he'd sent ahead rode the fastest horse Wilhelm owned, and would no doubt reach Nachtstone before midnight if all went well. He and the brides would be slower, however, and more cautious. The roads of Drakka could be treacherous, in more ways than one, and he had every intention of seeing his possessions transported home unharmed. There would be much to attend to, both on the road and once they reached their destination, and he would suffer no fool to ruin it.

The servant knocked on the bedroom door to alert Wilhelm of his brides arriving. He turned, his hands folded behind his back as they both entered. "I see you've finished washing," he said as they approached, "And you seem to have done a thorough job. Very good. Now then, I will be retiring shortly. I suggest you each do the same, as tomorrow will be a long day. And I will not tolerate delays because of something so petty as lack of rest."

With that said, he removed his upper garment, showing his powerful, well muscled physique as well as a variety of long healed battle scars, carefully placed his sword atop the headboard of the large bed- which would hold all 3 of them but would force some degree of proximity- and laid himself down in the center of it. He carried with him two letters, which he opened and began to read by the light of the lantern hanging on the wall, before noting that neither girl had moved much since they entered. "Well?" he intoned expectantly, "Does something trouble you two? Is the idea of sharing a bed with your husband so abstract that you cannot fathom it? And yes, I do expect you both to lay next to me, before either of you asks."

Despite outward appearances, Morganna’s interaction with the two small brides did not hinder her observations by much. She could sense the man beside her scanning the room like a predator surveying a field before him. A shift in his energy and his posture alerted her to what she could only assume was the find of a satisfactory target. While she awaited a response from the girls, she turned her gaze back to Höd.

”Pardon me, miss. I hate to cut our conversation short, but there is something I need to take care of. Maybe we can continue this later, if I am so lucky. And I do apologize, for what comes next… but I’m sure you’ll understand."

Höd spoke with a slight bow of his head, respectful yet not submissive… Had he been speaking to anyone else, they might have wondered what it was that stole his attention so. After all, the opportunity to interact with a woman of her caliber was by no means an easy feat. However, Morganna was not anyone else, knowing before he even spoke where he was off to. The real question now was who the unlucky target was going to be.

She had to compress a smile itching its way to the surface as he singled out a Drakkan across the room. Even by her standards, the subject was far below par. While he had the horns of a Drakkan warrior and the brides to ‘prove’ his worth, he simply could not fit in. Flashy, skinny, and really an unimpressive specimen, Morganna would never had given him a second look. The woman had no doubts that Höd felt the same way as she did, using this as an excuse to overshadow the disturbance made by the intruder.

Morganna did find it interesting, however, that Höd had chosen to abandon the prize he had so rightfully earned. While she had her theories, she tucked away her curiosity to be addressed another time. The two would speak again, and when they did, she could inquire about it then. Tracing his exit with a smile, Morganna returned her full attention back down to the two girls who were clearly on very different pages. She might have even found it amusing if she had not found herself being insulted… Twice.

While the one that had initiated the whole scene had kept her voice low, Morganna had not missed the comment made about her offer of a deal. She figured with the Gems just about worshipping the concept of diplomacy, such an offer would have been heaven sent… It would seem this particularly girl had other views on the matter.

Still, despite conversing with a ‘demon’, her brother’s bride still picked her head back up and questioned the terms. How predictable. Morganna thought to herself, staring down with a lazy expression.

The other girl’s cooperation was not so easily earned, however, having to have her head physically turned by her sister bride in order to focus on what was in front of her. Morganna tracked her gaze back to its source only to find it the man demanding her as entitled paid. Eyes rolled internally, Morganna opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sudden sound of the second bride’s voice. She sounded anything but pleased, turning on her very own and belittling what was clearly an attempt to keep her safe. The first she knew to have been a bride before, certainly she recognized the benefits of being with her brother over other warriors… otherwise Morganna would not have had the pleasure to toy with them a little. All her efforts were met with the hostility of a girl freshly picked from a posh city somewhere in the Gem’s homeland.

Morganna almost felt bad for the girl… Almost.

"You coward," she spat, "So timid are you that you grovel at the feet of the bear just to escape the fox?"

The woman’s eyes narrowed at this, all signs of amusement vanishing from her features.

“It is usually best when grovelling at the feet of bears to remember where the bear is standing, don’t you think? You should have listened to your sister here, kitten, she knew full well who she was dealing with and was ready to accept on your behalf. Distracted by the fox you insulted the bear, and now you’ve been thrown to the wolves. You had better hope this is a decision you can live with.” Snagging a handful of each girl’s hair, Morganna dragged the two forward through what little crowd stood between her and Rynek’s men.

Catching the attention of those closest to her, Morganna half threw the pair forward.

“They’re yours. Now get out before I change my mind.” She hissed, turning her gaze back to her brother who glanced back with fury. He was too far from her and too close to the challenger to be able to make it before the girls were taken away. There was nothing he could do, and the royals had no say either as they had been handed over freely by a member of the family. Things would have to be settled privately now, the real question was if Azilon was willing to do anything about it.

Flicking her dark hair over her shoulder she turned and glared at those still remaining, family and stranger alike.

“Pathetic, the lot of you.” Morganna huffed before making her exit, men moving out of her way as she moved. Stepping outside, the rain had dulled to a light shower, the darkness allowing her all the cover she needed to make her way to the estate without incident. Her elder brother could be heard still working on his bride, but she paid him no mind, instead retiring to her own room for the evening. Her younger brother’s qualms were a problem for tomorrow.

There had been a handful of times throughout the night where Bree had stirred. Not enough for full consciousness and rational thought, but enough for her to get echos of some of the emotions felt the night before. Her body always willed back to sleep by a more stubborn mind. When she finally awoke long enough for her eyes to open, she found a heavy unfamiliar weight across her chest and a warm breeze shifting her bangs. Glancing to the side, she saw Kagan’s sleeping face not three inches from her own. His even breaths causing the warm breeze.

It was unclear if Kagan was trying to hold her or simply take up as much of the huge bed as possible. His arm tossed over her, rather than holding her. Bree watched as Adora slide out of bed and Bree envied the ease at which she was able to slide out of bed and make her way around the room. When Adora drew closer, Bree quickly closed her eyes and feigned sleep again. The idea of having to speak to anyone, or make an effort to avoid doing, was far beyond her willpower just yet.

The room warmed quickly however, as soon as the desert sun rose. Kagan’s hold soon became stiflingly hot. Her first attempt to slip from the bed earned a sleepy grumble from Kagan and Bree found herself tangled up even tighter in his grasp, his arms pulled her till they were chest to chest. All without ever properly waking up.

Her second attempt was marginally more successful. Slowly piring him off limb by limb until he gave up his hold, favoring the less resistant pillows with which to force his affection.

Bree took a few tentative steps once out of the bed. An unfamiliar ache echoing between her legs, accompanied by the feeling of something dried cracking between them as she took her few steps. She refused to look down, not wanting to know what she would see if she did.

Giving her sister bride a silent look, not dissimilar to a predator sizing up a competitor, Bree gave her a wide breath as she made her way to the tub, longing to feel clean once again.

The water was cold to the the touch, the embers having long gone out during the night. The water held remnants of last nights bath, but seeing no alternative and not having the patience to wait for the water to heat, Bree crawled in, careful to twist her hair into a bun on the top of her head to keep it dry. Goosebumps erupting across her skin as she adjusted to the temperature. She found that the cool water soothed the pain between her legs. Still, the bath wasn't a place see wanted to linger, less it enticed Kagan again so soon. She scrubbed at her skin quickly, riding herself of all evidence of last night, before crawling back out of the tub. Pulling one of the many towels around her as she silently tiptoed across the room to her trunk.

Wheres her sister bride tried to flaunt her figure, Bree tried to hide hers. From the depths of her tunk she pulled out a long, flowy skirt. Burgundy in color, but it also had a thousand different flowers dyed into the material. Her shirt was short, barely brushing the top of her skirt. Black, simple, covering her shoulders and chest. She accentuated it with dangling gold earrings.

From there she pulled out different creams and oils, taking care to apply just the right amount of each in just the right order. Once again she struggled to keep her make-up minimal, but after the events of last night, she was more accepting of it.

She also took the time to pull her hair back in a braid across her head, collecting it in a bun in an attempt to disguise its length.

It was only once she had her ‘armor on’ that she finally faced her sister bride. She eyed the food and drink that was laid out warily before saying “Is that for me then?” Taking the mug in her hands she settled across from the Gem.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” she said lightly, twisting the tea in her hands by rotating the cup. “I’d like to not hate you,” she said, her eyes meeting Adora’s “After all, we might be strangers, but you are still from home,” The grip on her cup tightened as her eyes flashed. “But if you want us to get along, you better heed what I tell you to do. No matter how much you want to ‘help’ no matter if you disagree. Do you think we can come to an understanding?” her voice carried a vague hint of a threat, but it was by far the kindest interaction she’d had with Adora thus far.

Zakroti led the group back through the courtyard of the city manor house, past the fountain and towards the door. As they stepped into the great hall, one of the servants approached them; the tables of the great hall had been moved off to the side and temporary bedding had been set up for the soldiers Zakroti had brought with him. Their conversations stopped once their lord had entered, some stood and straightened themselves to salute him, others shouted hails and greetings his way. This was not the place for this conversation, far from private.

"You have returned early, the new brides room has only just been made ready-" The Servant began, but Zakroti cut her off with a nod. He removed his cloak and cast it over for the servant to take. The last to enter were Kzaar and Narlemaewel, who had closed off the small protective group (Although he imagined to Aurora, the black guard surrounding her, him and Aymiria must have felt as much her prison guards as they did her protectors, ensuring she did not leave the group nor be taken by any other Drakken. Zakroti had made sure to keep an eye on her and keep himself and Miry relatively close to them. Thankfully, it hadn't been a long journey back here, and most had abandoned the streets, leaving it an uneventful journey to.

"That is fine. We must speak to each other first. We shall be in the solar, bring water to us, and food. Grapes, peaches and some other fruit, maybe a bowl of Fae Stool. Nothing too heavy." Zakroti replied. One of the two servants bowed and moved away, while the other followed. Zakroti waved for Aurora and Miry to follow him across the hall. They stepped through the hall and ascended up the spiral staircase, his voice carrying back to them. "Aurora. Your room is the far end of this hallway. The Castellan here can show you to it if you wish to retire now, and handle any requests you might have. Narlemaewel will guard your room."

"At your service." The Castellan grunted, apparently somewhat unamused that he had been reduced to showing brides to their room. Zakroti understood why; he was fairly certain this was the servant who had been crippled in a war in the north. To lose his ability to serve as a warrior was never going to be a happy transition, even with his service to the family having been rewarded with a safe and prestigious position as castellan of the city estate.

"Za- Oeiz Taki, O-" Narlemaewel began to object as they exited out into the hallway from the staircase, Zakroti motioning along to the door at the bottom of the hallway for Aurora's benefit. He doubted she'd have any particular reason to object to anything in there. Perhaps one or two of the decorations, though the servants would most likely have removed the statuette of Sorrak (or was that room the one with the statuette of Drun?) from the alcove and swapped it with one of the other ornaments. A vase or a more secular statuette perhaps, he knew there were some of Wyverns or busts of prominent ancestor that could replace it.

"Ede epeew." Zakroti cut him off with a glance back towards the Blackguard, who let out a heavy sigh. Zakroti looked back to Aurora, motioning with his hand down another corridor. "The Solar is this way, which is where me and Miry are going. If you'd like to speak about your sister now, follow us there. It may wait until the morning if you prefer. Breakfast is an excellent time for heavy conversations about death and suffering."

Taking Miry's arm gently in his own, Zakroti led her off down the hallway towards the Solar. He waved away most of his blackguard so that they could rest in shifts and be alert, keeping only Gaikus with him for now. Never go anywhere without a bodyguard.

He opened the door and led Miry inside, glancing over the decorative stonework that culminated in a large hearth on the far side of the room, between two large stained glass windows; one was a religious scene, depicting Vivari standing above fresh creation with trees and vines growing up to surround her. The other was as if it were the night sky, with many frames tinted slightly black with smaller panes of clear, white and vaguely tinted glass that represented the stars. At the height of it was a single large crystal frame to represent the moon or the sun, that in daylight refracted a bright rainbow of colours as the sun caught it in midday, while by moonlight let the white beams flow into the room. A painting hung on the wall opposite the fireplace, a landscape of the city of Laloria pained from the far side of the lake that surrounded it, the orange autumn leaves of the lakeside trees matching brilliantly with the lighting of a setting sun. There were no martial signs of equipment in here; no mannequins of armour or fresco of conquering warlords. The decorative stone walls had also been coupled with wood panelling, and the decorations of the walls themselves were not even carvings of Wyverns as was the cast in most other parts of the building, but rather vines with flowers and leaves growing from them. Even the book case that stood across from the door bore no books on warfare or strategy.

The room had a low oak table within it, with several large floor cushions around it. In the centre of the table was a silver candlestick, bearing a long and thin candle that he lit with a wave of his hand. Raising his hand towards the fireplace; a small flame leapt from his fingers to the fireplace, lighting the wood within it. He sat himself down upon one of the large cushions and gently held Miry to him, smiling at her and gently kissing her

"What does Shattered mean? As in what she said to you, I understand the literal meaning but I got the feeling it was some kind of insult." Zakroti asked Miry with a reassuring smile, tracing a hand along her face to brush her hair aside. Zakroti glanced to the door to see whether Aurora had followed them. If not, they'd speak to her in the morning.
He'd speak with Miry for a while, perhaps read a book with her. She'd made excellent progress learning their language and script; she'd picked it up relatively quickly, as he recalled. Shortly after she'd arrived here he had found her in the library, trying to learn the language from a book she had found a translation of. He'd helped her with the pronunciation and the word endings, tenses and the like.

Before too long, she'd learnt that the names of his family and most of the people in their region were typically composed of two words from the language. When she learnt what his meant, she had simply flung her arms around him. He'd explained why they had been chosen for him, and by whom. But the name was his all the same, and he wasn't ashamed of it, not really; after all, it had turned out to be quite prophetic for his father.

Miry had been good to him. And he had nearly betrayed her earlier. It had been a while since he had felt particularly guilty about anything; even the guilt of slaying three of his siblings and keeping his father in chains had all but gone away now. After all, those were easily justified given all that had happened. But this? It won him nothing. Saved nothing. It had been stupid and hurtful.

As the rain had picked up He spread his cloak and wraps it about her, to keep her dry and warm. It wasn't out of any wish to impress or protect her, but rather more of a 'It'd be a waste for her to get sick already' thought. Maybe that was just his own way of down playing it, but perhaps he really didn't care, he wasn't one to judge himself based on a moments reaction. He led her inside as the rain had picked up "The rain is rare, but when it comes down it pours." He sighed on the steps to the manor. "Now... I don't live here, but I do own it, and many of my people are likely inside, in fact many of my trainees will likely be inside. Many will attempt to touch you, maybe even harm you, if you try to leave my side or leave the same room I'm in... Do not be surprised if I have to break one or two of them in front of you for attempting to take or harm you."

The outside of the manor was very unassuming, you wouldn't think anyone of power or wealth lived there, the smooth sandstone walls almost made it just blend in with the nearby buildings. As he threw open the doors to the building, it was a very different story. The floor was the only sandstone here, and the inner walls are of carefully cut slate and granite keystones, and here in the main building and hall, the walls and roof were supported by wooden beams, looted and taken from earlier battles from both Vannoth and his ancestors. The men here were loud, as the doors open it grew louder for a moment as many stood and were going to oppose the intruder, and as they saw the warlord himself being he who threw open the doors there was little to no sound. Dead silence, due to a mixture of confusion and fear. "Welcome, Kuki, to what seems to be my vassal's little party in My Manor..." he walked forward into the warm hall, all eyes on the very grumpy looking warlord. "You have your own wing, GET OUT OF MY HALL!" his bellow almost a roar in the host's face, as he grabbed his blade that hung at his side, preparing to draw as raise it as most of the men in the hall began to scatter through the corridors and into their own wings. "Those of you who belong here, clean this mess up." he sat down in his vacant chair, grumbling as he gestured to one of the warriors "Bring my new bride a seat of her own and something to eat." the warrior may be no servant but there is a risk that comes of ignoring a 'request' from a warlord in his own home and it is not a risk one willingly takes when said warlord has a reputation for an explosive and violent temper. Needless to say, before long the table in the hall was set back into place, and a new chair was brought in for Kuki.

Kagan awoke deep into the night, the call of nature pulling him from his rest. He dragged himself from the tangle of crimson hair he was currently buried in, his eyes adjusting slowly to the dim light of the room as his vision passed over the object of his unconscious affection. Despite her protests otherwise, Aubree had proved to be a very enjoyable plaything. Hesitant, maybe, but that would only improve with time. “Not that she has much choice in the matter...” he reminds himself as he awkwardly shuffles out of the sheets, stopping only to pull the covers back around the redhead.

He stumbles groggily to the bathroom, taking his place in front of the chamber pot as he let his mind wander. As lovely as getting laid had been, the Ehkota problem was rapidly coming to a head. The fact the man had deigned to gift him with a second bride spoke volumes, and very few of those volumes were good. The only real thread he had at the moment was the case of Giel and his older brother Petra. An oft forgotten peice, the sort of thing only priest few priests would bother to commit to memory if they were not forced to. Giel was the younger sibling to Petra, a soon to be clan leader who refused to grant his mother a final peace due to years of subservience. Not wanting his mother to suffer such an indignity, Giel appealed to the Kinner of Krenta’s Crest, eventually striking an agreement that if he challenged his brother formally and won they would perform the ceremony.

But the story was an old one, from long before Drakka was unified under any one entity. As such, there were dozens of conclusions to the tale. None of which the High Church held up publicly as spiritual canon anyway. The other problem was scope. It was one thing to challenge for a clans leadership, but to rule all of Drakka? Even if Ehkota won, there were going to be those who would dispute the challenge.

Kagan rubs his temples as he finishes his business with the chamber pot, cursing Drun for the invention of politics. Bashing a mans skull if apparently wasn’t good enough, no. The Big Bad God of War wouldn’t be satisfied if they also didn’t if they also didn’t wage war with pen, paper, and the splitting of difference. “This...” He grumbles, washing his hands with a silent fury, “Is why Sorrak gets all the fun clergy.”

A flash of lilac caught his eye as he made his slow agitated trudge back to the bed, nearly missed in the gloom of the darkened room. Adora had, at some point, decided to escape his bed and was now curled tightly against the cushions of his temporary couch. A flash of agitation filled him as he approached, gently lifting the sleeping figure with a stifled grunt, half tempted to demand an explanation if sleep were not so eagerly calling him.

“It will wait till morning...” he grumbled, placing the small gem lightly back beneath the covers before crawling in himself. He slowly drags the gems arm around his waist before burying his face back into the trusses of Aubree’s hair, pinning the smaller gems arm between them.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The gems had managed to awaken before he did. He knew this as, currently, his face was comforted by the soft embrace of a pillow rather than a bosom of nape of the neck as his groggy brain expected. He rose slowly, bleary eyes spotting the flashes of red and purple across the room that signified that (if nothing else) they were not foolish enough to try and run while he was asleep. The Kinner cranes his neck, four loud pops of bone drowning out the faint din of their conversation in his ears. He very much doubted it was one he had any interest in hearing anyway, given what they were.

A light grunt was all they received as greeting as he made his way to the tub, his mind too fogged by the morning for conversation. He lazily plunged into its depths head first, uncaring that the water had yet to be changed. Even in his half awake state, he could smell the reek of sweat and sex on him, over powering the faint whiff of tea that hung in the air. And with a busy day ahead of him, that would not do.

The water shot cold spikes through his body, already pulling at the grim that clung to his body and further filling the water with it. A shiver erupted from his as he surfaced before wordlessly setting to cleaning himself, silently watching the two girls speak without really listening. The bath was hurried and joyless, but it none the less did it job. The soaps replacing the stink of last nights entertainment with the hushed subtle tone of ceder and the cold stabbing the sleep from his body.

He dried himself quickly before walking to his luggage, thankful the warmth of the day had managed to fill the room as he stepped from the water. “Eat quickly.” He barks, pulling a pair of plain gray breeches on. “We’ve things to do.” He adds, pulling a strange looking (for the gems at least) shirt out. It was a tunic of sorts, once navy perhaps but now darkened to black from years of use, formerly white (now some shade of blue) embroidery along every inch of its surface. Most of the design was abstract, a mix of swirling lines and oblong shapes surrounded by roughly detailed figures; almost all of which were dying in some way or another. The sleeves were overly long with slits running along their length and ending in heavy brass rings at the wrist.

He pulls the shirt over him, the sleeves hanging away from his arms as he fit the brass rings in place. “Fucking formal wear...” He grumbles, clearly not fully comfortable in the odd piece as he takes a seat at the table and grabbing the remaining mug. The tea was...acceptable. It was by no means poorly prepared, far from it. But the bitterness sat in the back of his throat, the drier more floral notes more alien to his palate than the quietly sweet fruity ones that filled Drakka’s sparse tea houses. “You didn’t get this from the hotel’s stock did you?” He asks, rolling the cup in his hand before adding honey. Perhaps a little more than was entirely necessary.

Adora watched her sister awaken, struggle to free herself from Kagan's grasp, and then start to ready herself for the day. A morning bath in cold water. She shivered just thinking about the touch of cold on her skin. She'd had enough of cold to last her a lifetime. She turned her eyes back out of the window, watching the hustle and bustle below. A few men with newly gotten brides tearfully and fearfully following behind them. The small women struggled to keep up with the longer legs of their new husbands. A bemused smile came to Adora's face, wondering how much trouble she'd have keeping up with Kagan.

She was brought from her thoughts by the voice of her sister. "Yes," she replied quietly and watched Bree pick up the cup. The words that came next made Adora bristle. Was Bree actually telling her that she was to follow her sister's orders? Was this woman going to direct her and give her commands? Adora thought not. Yes, back home she would have outranked the woman and her words would have been cause for punishment. Her eyes narrowed at Bree as tears came to the corners. Her usually smiling mouth turned to a frown. She quickly turned to look back out of the window. Using the heel of her palm, she brushed away the threatening tears. Adora sighed, coming to realize she was perhaps being a bit too overly sensitive. She was letting her fear and jealousy get the better of her.

She sipped the last of her tea before making her way across the room to begin brewing more. The silence hung for a long time in the air. As she went through the preparations she replied, "I sincerely apologize for my actions, sister. I was so overcome with a desire to help and protect you that I had not considered that you might have been capable of that on your own. As you have wondrously proven." As she began to let the leaves brew she turned to look at Bree. "I promise that I will no longer offer help unless it is asked. And certainly no more touching. Just know that if you should ever need anything I am happy to do as is needed. However, I will not be made into a slave." Adora heard Kagan rise, the pops in his neck, and turned her attention to him. His naked form groggily crossed to the tub, a grunt of greeting to the girls. Adora couldn't help but smile and fought down a small chuckle.

The new cup was completed and she sat down near Bree but with plenty of room between them. "I should very much love to become allies. Perhaps one day friends. But, at the very least to be on cordial terms." She sipped her tea as Kagan removed himself from the cold bath and dressed in the most interesting garment she had ever seen. He grumbled from them to eat Adora had no stomach for food. "I have already had my breakfast," she replied to him lightly. It was a lie. Nothing sounded appetising beyond the tea.

His question regarding the tea raised her eyebrows. She had not expected him to notice. "No, it is of my own creation. From home. The blend of herbs are designed to give energy and awaken the body for the day. Without the tiredness that can come later from other such beverages. I have other types as well, though more used for calming or curing fever. Not all of my creations came with me though, there was only so much room in the trunk." Another thing she had not expected was the amount of honey he placed into the tea. She had not thought him to be the sort to have a sweet tooth. "If the bitterness of this tea displeases you, adding cream or even lemon may help along with the honey." She would have to consider experimenting with other herbs to create a similar, sweeter tea. Another bright smile lived and then died on her lips as she considered the fact that this information would live no longer than today within her. The would be no need, no ability to do such a thing. A certain somberness came over her form. As he replaced the honeypot she noticed an angry gash across Kagan's hand.

"Husband, have you hurt yourself?" she inquired. Before she could help herself or really think about it she reached out and touched his hand, slim fingers tracing along the outline of the cut. She turned her face up, eyes worried. As her eyes found his she remembered the exact thing Bree had chastised her for and she immediately released her grip on him. "My apologies husband. I did not mean to... That is... I was concerned, I did not intend to touch you out of turn." Her tanned cheeks burned red with an embarrassed flush. It felt like tears were going to escape her once again. She turned her face down to her tea.

'Damn,' she thought 'I should have better control of my emotions. Daily meditations and the thought of death scares you so much you can't function for the day. Come now. You have seen a lot of death in your years you silly girl. You knew someday your time would come.' Adora abruptly stood in an attempt to hide the feelings that were threatening to force their way out. "I have a salve we can put on the wound. It would be a shame if you were to develop an infection after all." She crossed the room, knelt in front of her trunk and began to dig through her belongs in search of the medicine in question. Adora took deep calming breaths. This was not their fault. Not their problem. It would be unfair to involve them in her own turmoil.







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Hestia just about jumped out of her skin from the sound of her wife's voice. She had thought she had been sleeping. In her surprise she spilt some of the water down her front, drenching her dress further. She took the towel from her hair and patted herself down, repeatedly apologizing. Setting aside the glass she began to clean the floor. She paused when Scyr asked Alfhi to go to bed. Hestia righted herself and offered the girl a small smile. "Good night, thank you for your help." She offered a small smile and watched the girl leave.

The next thing Scyr said caught her off guard. Hunting? She didn't want to the now the prey? What did that mean? What animal could he hunt that she should not know? The thought terrified her. Hestia had heard that Drakkan monsters were even more terrifying than the Drakkan themselves. All sorts of dangerous beasts existed in Drakka and it was best for a girl like herself to keep close. Perhaps it was good that her new husband hunted such beasts. Perhaps she was lucky to have such a husband.

Lost in thought she almost didn't hear Scyr suggest she come sleep in the same bed. She raised her eyes up to meet Scyr's and the full weight of what she had spoken caused her body to stiffen. "I uh..." she shifted nervously, looking between her wife and the other bed. What was the right answer? The way she had spoken Hestia guessed she was supposed to lay with Scyr.

Taking a steadying breath she silently made her way to the bed. Her nightdress being wet, she was nervous she would make the bed wet too. She paused at the side of the bed, her fingers rested there lightly. "I think... Should I sleep here...?" Her eyes averted she lifted the nightdress and pulled it from her slender form. Her cheeks were aflame with her nervousness and fear. She dropped the dress onto the floor and slipped into the bed, pulling the covers over her body. She buried her face in the pillow, terrified she had chosen incorrectly.

I have made a mistake... how does I delete?

Alfhi squeaked as she spun around at the sound of her mother's voice. She could have sworn mother was asleep... She hadn't noticed Dad had left the compound. Uh-oh... Alfhi knew daddy only went hunting alone when he was in a "dark mood" and that it made him really scary. She took a step back and tried to hide behind Hestia, in case he came back unexpectedly. She looked more apprehensive than scared, but she was definitely worried. When told to return to her own bed, she nodded and scampered to the door, she paused to whisper a response to Hestia in response to her thanks. Then she closed the door and was gone.

“No problem, sorry about the cold bath.”

”However, I will not be made into a slave."

A short laugh escaped Bree’s lips before she covered her own mouth lightly, her hand making a poor cover for her smirk. “Oh dear, you do understand that a slave is exactly what you are?” She watched the woman carefully trying to gauge her reaction. Bree couldn’t pinpoint the feeling last night, but, now in the day, there was something uneasy about how eager the girl was to be here. How eager she was to please everyone. Bree watched with an odd amount of satisfaction as a Adora brought her hands to wipe her eyes, but the cause of it, whether Aubree’s words or something other unknown factor was unclear.

Bree’s eyes followed Adora as she made herself a second cup of tea, while Bree’s own started to grow cool in her hands. Somewhere behind her, her husband had awoke, a quickly sideways glance left her face flushed red as the image of her husband’s naked body brought back flashbacks of the night before.

Her sister bride soon returned and Bree took a sip of the liquid to avoid having to respond. The unexpected bitterness of the lukewarm liquid causing her nose to crinkle with distaste. She eyed the honey for a moment before simply setting the tea down all together and starting to pick at the food set out on the table.

“Fucking formal wear...”

“Formal wear?” asked Bree, her eyebrow raising as she took another bite of bread, her husband now finally dressed enough that she could look at him without the heat rising into her face. Brushing the crumbs away, she glanced down at her own outfit, before shooting Kagan a questioning glance. It was far from what she would call ‘formal’ wear, but she hadn’t figured out how much that matter here in Drakka….nor if what she was wearing matter much at all.

Her attention was once again pulled towards her sister-wife. The flash of emotions across Adorabella’s face flipped from joy, to sorrow, to despair, and finally landing on concern as she noticed a wound from last night on her husband’s hand. The air of seduction was gone as the girl switched into healing mode. Well, at least she has that going for her thought Bree lighting. She chewed a piece of fruit, her mind distracted by her sister bride until the exact second her eye met Kagan’s. She choked a little bit as a sudden idea hit her. It would have probably been wise to have at least greeted her husband before questioning him. “”D-did you sleep well?” She muttered to Kagan, the words coming out awkwardly.

Dark looming clouds gave way to a crack of light as the sun began to rise in the Eastern most parts of Drakka. The giant beast pushed out the moonlight as it rose higher and higher into the sky, until finally it claimed its rightful throne high atop Vivari. Light cascaded upon Moknasthul, kissing every corner of the world. It was almost as if it shone the brightest on Železna Kri, celebrating a successful Reaping from the eve before.

The city itself was celebrating the ceremony as well, with hundreds and hundreds of vendors and shops lining the cobblestone streets. The merchants that were displaying their wares were not the regular bunch that normally set up their shops. These men had travelled tirelessly for days with the best of their best to flaunt in the Capital, knowing all too well the day after the Ceremony would make them a pretty penny as the Drakkan impulsively spent their gold on any ware that caught their eye. It was the perfect time to be a merchant.

Quick footsteps belonging to average sized Drakkan surveyed the city. In the manner that they moved, it was clear they were looking for something, or someone. It had been less than 24 hours, and already the city was whispering about the return of The Berserker. Most Drakkan were nervous, scared even (though a Drakkan would likely never admit that), but there were those who wanted to lay claim to the bounty attached to The Berserker’s title. And even those who were stupid enough to pursue it. The Drakken who were searching for The Berserker were doing so based on nothing more than rumours of what he looked like; unfortunately (or fortunately?) for Höd, he often stood out with his massive size and deep violet eyes. The bounty hunters would not deter him though, if anything, it provoked him into the open.

Höd casually walked through the streets, his eyes wandering to the vendors that lined them. He wasn’t interested in the wares that the Drakken were selling, he simply was looking for something to do while he lost his thoughts to the events of the night before. Sneaking into the Ceremony was a calculated move, one done out of pure intelligence, but his brilliance was thwarted by the ignorant white haired pretty boy. Instinctually a scoff released from Höd’s chest; to any onlooker he was scoffing at the merchant’s goods in distaste when really it had nothing to do with them. The brute had never faired well when his strategic planning had been kiboshed and it always resulted in someone dying because of it. Höd was quick to think on his feet and when he had a goal in mind, he achieved it no matter the cost. In last night’s case, the cost was a girly looking Drakkan. A lavish grin appeared on the Berserker's face, he could still feel the warmth of the Drakkan’s blood spilling over his bare hands.

The Ceremony night wasn’t all bad, not only did he have the chance to satisfy his blood lust, he also stumbled across a rarity. Höd’s memory flashed back to Morganna as she smiled at him exiting the hall after watching him deliver penance to the pathetic creature. He was impressed with the woman just by speaking to her, but watching her take pleasure in his murderous act (even in the smallest form of a smile) left him hungry for more. Morganna had intrigued him enough that he wanted to have her. His eyes were now set on a prize that he was determined to win. How he would win it though was unknown to him.

Höd was snapped out of his thoughts when a Drakkan smaller than him had bumped into him. A word of caution, erring on the side of threat, spat from the Drakkan’s mouth as he told Höd to “watch it.” Although the Drakkan commoner had not walked into him with enough force to knock him off his feet, he was now annoyed. Höd latched onto the sides of each of the Drakkan’s arms, his massive hands gripping into the Drakkan’s flesh. Höd was much taller than this Drakkan, though that was something he was used to. He amounted the smaller Drakkan to being direct results from cross-breeding with the weak Gemmenite race. For all Höd was concerned, he had enough evidence; all half-breeds he came in contact with were much smaller or weaker than his pure-blood self. The Berserker leered over the Drakkan, who was now yelling at the face of danger in opposition to what was being done. Höd’s deep purple eyes looked down upon the man; he would’ve let the poor soul go if he hadn’t had opened his big mouth.

”Now, now. That is no way to speak to the Berserker, now is it?" Höd exclaimed with a calm breath, his grip growing tighter and tighter against the Drakkan’s arms.

”B..b...berserker!? The now fearful Drakkan questioned with a shaky voice.

The way the weakling looked up at him in fear reminded him of the Drakkan he had come across following his monumental introduction at the Ceremony. Slaughtering the pretty boy amongst the crowd had quenched his thirst temporarily, but he had to leave behind his bride knowing all too well that the Royal Family would have pursued him further if he had taken her. But what he yearned for was a woman’s body; more importantly, the pleasure that he could forcefully take from it. When he came across a wandering fool and his bride in the night filled streets of Železna Kri, he couldn’t resist any further. It was almost too perfect. The way the Gem looked up at him, her eyes not daring to look at the mangled body on the street behind him as they shook with fear, reminded him of the same look this pathetic Drakkan was giving him.

Höd’s devilish grin returned, excited from the horrific face displayed on the Drakkan in his grasp. ”Today is your unlucky day, my friend. If I am feeling particularly generous, I might let you live. At least long enough to feel each drop of blood leave your tiny little body.”

”His unlucky day?” A voice sounded behind Höd. ”I think you have it all wrong, Berserker. Today is YOUR unlucky day, friend.”.

Höd’s iris wandered to the outermost corner of his eye, attempting to see who the voice belonged to. There were a few sets of feet to his right. His eyes moved to the other side. There were a few more sets of feet to his left. Höd snickered and released the Drakkan in his grasp, who made no point in waiting and hurriedly scampered away. The brute turned his body three quarters, not paying any respect to the group who had approached him to face them completely. His eyes fell on the Drakkan in the center; clearly the ringleader of this unfortunate group of imbeciles. There were five of them. Five of them to have fun with. Hod’s grin returned. It lingered on his lips for a few brief seconds before a low chuckle began to pour out of his chest, eventually erupting into full entertained laughter.

”What do you think you’re laughing at, ape! We outnumber you, fool. Are you too stupid to see that you’re going to die here!? I, Mazus, will claim the bounty on your head!” The ringleader spat, his voice steady with confidence.

The laughter subsided, replaced with a harshly serious expression. Höd’s eyes now fixed on the Drakkan in the center, ”I’m laughing at the fact that you truly believe you’ll be able to kill me. Five men is all you brought for a Drakkan titled the Berserker, a title gained by slaughtering the masses who stood against him. Did you not take one moment to think of the stories about me?”

”It’s alright though, what’s another five to add to my tally.” His voice carried with a slight comical tone. ”And don’t worry, I won’t even use my own weapon. You know, to give you even just some kind of a fighting chance”

Mazus ground his teeth together in frustration at Höd’s cockyness. The Drakkan’s fists clenched together as Höd continued to mock them. Mazus would not let the Berserker get away with it. He would claim the bounty on Höd’s head. ”You heard him boys, he isn’t going to use a weapon. It’s time the Berserker died!”

All five men lurched toward Höd simultaneously…

“My… brothers live there too. You’ve already seen the twins. Then there is Kieran. He came with us so he should be around. But you have to look out for him. Then there is Bregrek. He never leaves his furnace so he didn’t come along. Then there is Karog and Drugal. My oldest and second oldest brother. Though they don’t live in Kereg-Kor anymore.” Varzar answered as Nadia fought to keep her eyes on him instead of watching over his shoulder at his brother. So that must be Kieran then. She thought, taking note of the fact that Varzar decided to warn about him, but nobody else so far.

“Kereg-Kor is… different.” Varzar continued, and Nadia listened carefully as he moved on quickly. “Then there are the other Gems. They’ve made their room pretty. Like you described home. Auntie Kyr makes sure everyone feels happy there.” A sanctuary then, with other gems already living there! Nada's heart began to feel a little lighter at the thought, and she smiled slightly to herself as she began to picture a calm place filled with plants and beautiful works of art- a place where it was peaceful and perhaps even untouchable by any Drakkan.

He went on to warn her about the dangerous creatures in the woods around Kereg-kor... but he also said she probably could go out there if someone was with her! A dangerous hope, and still not what she truly wanted, but perhaps the forest would not be as bad as Varzar thought? If there were only the creatures to fear, then with Vivari's blessing she could still go and be among the trees, couldn't she? Or even, what if the wilds of Drakka were only dangerous to those who treated them as such? Gems were of the earth, Vivari's children. Nature was their domain. Surely the Drakken were simply unable to be among nature because of how unnatural they are?

She shook her head slightly, bringing her thoughts back to reality. She smiled at Varzar, standing up as she spoke. She almost hugged him, but held herself back at the last moment. "Thank you. I... I think I will be fine there, if it's as you say." Before Varzar could answer, a loud explosion- much too close to be thunder- pulled his attention away. He finally noticed Kieran in the room then, and in a flash of fury too quick for Nadia to comprehend, he dashed across the room and pulled Kieran away from Xaelia, putting himself between his older brother and the Gem. Nadia went over to Xaelia then, standing beside her as the stand-off between the two brothers continued.

Thankfully, nothing more happened, as Keregar chose that moment to re-enter the room. Nadia glanced at him as his armor suddenly fell off, revealing the scarred flesh beneath. Too many scars to be real... unless he walks through prickly bushes for fun? He said something about business, and then disappeared into another room as the twins came back inside as well. She watched as one of them, she wasn't sure which was which yet, immediately went up to Kieran and took their knife back.

"So much for that." She whispered to Xaelia just before Kieran threatened them and disappeared as well. She wanted to hug Xaelia, to try and tell her that she'd be okay, but but before she could do anything, Keregar ordered Varzar to put them both to bed. The young drakkan lead them down a hallway which ended at the door to their room. All the while Nadia felt the emptiness of this place closing in on her. There were no decorations or things of comfort here, there weren't even any plants in the corners of any room... This house was clearly not meant to be lived in. It was little more than a waypoint. Little more than a prison.

"I-it locks." Varzar said, motioning to the door as Nadia and Xaelia entered the room. "If- I’ll come check on you later. It would be better if you... didn’t leave the room tonight. Good night... Mothers"

"Good night- and sleep well." Nadia said softly as Varzar closed the door and his footsteps faded away as he left. She shared a look with Xaelia and the two of them investigated the trunks at the foot of the two beds in the room that were meant for them. The trunk was different from the one that her father had packed for her- it was bigger and less ornate, but still obviously of Gem design. As she opened it and rummaged through a little, she found that the three simple dresses and her sewing kit that had been in her father's chest had been moved into this one- and there were a few more, even more plain dresses and shirts and trousers in this new chest for her. Everything was simple, functional. Blue, brown, green, bland, with no patterns or bright color at all.

Noticing that Xaelia had started to change out of her ripped dress, Nadia turned away and began undoing the laces and ties of her own dress, letting the heavy silk fall to the floor around her once it was loose enough. As she picked it up to fold and put into the chest, she felt her two mementos in the pockets- the strange engraved cylinder from her father, and her idol of Pyrus. Pulling them out of the dress, she placed them both in a stocking in the bottom corner of the chest, before remembering to also take off her mother's necklace and put it with them.

Once she'd pulled on a blue tunic and brown trousers from the chest, she wondered what else there was to do, before Xaelia suddenly fell to the floor beside her. "X-xae? What is it? Wh- what's wrong?" She stammered as she knelt beside here sister-bride, pulling the Gem into a hug. Probably the stupidest question to ask is "what's wrong?" considering their situation, but Nadia knew no other way to phrase it. She just pulled Xaelia closer to her, trying to impart some sense of safety or stability, just by being there.

She didn't know how long they'd sat like that, but after a while Nadia remembered what Varzar had said. "Hey, I've gotta lock the door quick, alright Xaelia?" She spoke quietly as she released her sister-bride and stood, glancing around the room for the key. She found it, hanging on a hook in the wall, next to one of the unmade beds. She pulled it off its hook and went over to the door, locking it and trying to open it a few times, just to make sure it was locked before putting the key down and going back over to Xaelia.

"There. He can't get to us now, see?" She said with a reassuring smile as she held a hand out to help Xaelia up. "We can sleep now, if you want. You must be tired..." She didn't know what to do, this was so strange to her. "I've never been the one not in tears before..."

Once Xae was at least sitting on her bed instead of the floor, Nadia would hug her again before moving to sit on her own bed. "Please, don't worry too much... I know that, everything's so bad right now, but... When you reach the bottom, the only way things can go is up." She smiled, hoping to the gods that Xaelia understood what she meant. "We have each other, and that's all we really need."

---

Onyx nodded as Amalia began to cheer up, glad to have succeeded in helping her sister-bride get through her feelings of... Despondence? Inadequacy? Onyx puzzled over words in her head for a moment, but eventually just let it be. Emotions were too complex usually, too hard to pin down with just a single word or phrase.

As the two finished up their bath, Amalia seemed just a little more confident, or at least, Onyx couldn't clearly see that she was worried anymore. She hoped she'd said the right things... She wanted Amalia to be happy, if it was at all possible in their future. Even though they'd only just met that day Onyx already could feel a closeness and care for her sister-bride that, if she were being honest with herself, she'd never really felt for anyone before. Her father had never done anything to gain a place in her heart, and the townspeople back in Pyrvi- while generally kind and pleasant to talk to- had always been something other to her. She coexisted with these people, but was left alone with her books for the most part.

As she got out of the bath and pulled back on the dress she'd been wearing at the party, she questioned herself. Why is Amalia different? Perhaps it was only because Onyx hadn't been allowed to read anything since the two had met. She'd been forced to stay in the moment and, it might be getting to her. Onyx let Amalia take her hand as they left the room together, a guard or servant pointing them to their husband's room as her thoughts kept circling in her mind. She didn't notice that they were stopped in the doorway until Wilhelm spoke.

"I see you've finished washing," He said, standing in the middle of the room, waiting for them. "And you seem to have done a thorough job. Very good. Now then, I will be retiring shortly. I suggest you each do the same, as tomorrow will be a long day. And I will not tolerate delays because of something so petty as lack of rest." Onyx said nothing, glancing at Amalia next to her instead as Wilhelm moved to get into the bed. She looked terrified still, and suddenly Onyx cursed herself for zoning out. She needed to stay in the present, for Amalia at least.

"Hey... It's okay." She whispered, squeezing Amalia's hand gently as she continued. "You heard him, right? He wants us well-rested for travel, so there won't be any-"

"Well?" Wilhelm called over to them, interrupting Onyx's whisper "Does something trouble you two? Is the idea of sharing a bed with your husband so abstract that you cannot fathom it? And yes, I do expect you both to lay next to me, before either of you asks."

"I didn't think otherwise." Onyx said, releasing Amalia's hand with a small look of apology. She walked around to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge, watching Amalia for a moment before shrugging and lying down next to Wilhelm. He'd put himself in the middle on purpose, to force the both of them to lay next to him, but it also served to separate them from each other. It was too early for Onyx to tell if this was what he wanted from them, but she supposed it could be. Having two brides become too close with each other would certainly be a problematic situation for any Drakkan who proved unable to control them.

She turned so she was facing him, her head lying in the nook of her arm as she tried to keep some space between them while also not falling off the edge of the bed. It was difficult, but after a few moments she managed to find a comfortable enough position that she could fall asleep. She closed her eyes, debating something in her head before she finally caved and said it.

"Goodnight, Amalia. Goodnight m'lord."

---

As the scene played out, Drakkan yelling at each other and various lords leaving the ceremony to keep out of it all, Kendra stuck close to Kaivor the whole time. She may not have had any choice in anything that led to this, but now that she was here she wasn't about to allow herself to be snatched away by whichever Drakkan wanted to try.

When Kaivor told her to stay close however, he was looking at someone else. Kendra followed his gaze, to see a Drakkan who'd just killed another, leaving a Gem standing there alone. She was already standing as close to her husband as she could, but to comply with his order, she put her hand on his shoulder. "I've no intention of leaving your side." After the killer Drakkan left the area, Kaivor seemed to settle a little, and Kendra moved to stand at his side again, keeping her hand on his shoulder until he'd move it himself.

"Kaivor... should we leave?" She spoke quietly, looking at him as she asked. "Many other groups have left, and considering the type that seem to be hanging around... perhaps it would be best to find your brother and go."

Sorrin gazed at the monstrous creatures warily, the grime from their bodies soiling the beautiful cloth they had been given for the occasion. She didn’t necessarily fear them, in fact she might have even thought them kind of cute had they not been so utterly creepy. The pair were singing some kind of song, chanting names she did not know, and detailing scenes that at best could be described as horrifying. Before their new master had pulled the creature away from them, he had even begun making obscene gestures that led Sorrin to pull her arms closer to her chest.

She had all but silently sighed with relief when she felt her body being yanked forward, forced into motion by the chains that bound her to the terrifying man. Every muscle in her body tensed once her mind had caught up with the sudden motion, her captor speaking terrible things as he ran his fingers traced across her torso. Words of torture and threats of returning to claim loved ones from the homeland, it was enough to make her chest tighten.

Short breaths were all the small girl could manage, oxygen failing to reach her lungs no matter how many breaths she took. Sorrin could feel her thoughts clouding over, her head becoming fuzzy and body weak inside the cruel man’s ever tightening grip. As he pulled her arm away from her body, she fought with all her strength but it was barely enough for him to notice, easily isolating a finger for the creepy creatures to drool over. It was clear from the looks in their eyes that her flesh was not out of the question if ever offered like that again, a thought that helped none in her attempts to gain control of her emotions once again.

Eventually the Grave Warden had turned his full attention to her, answering a question she had already forgotten she had asked. Most of the words he spoke floated through her mind finding no perch on which to remain any longer than a few seconds before being purged. Any progress she made in calming herself back down were lost the moment the man’s fingers wrapped around her neck. His grip might not have been enough to do more than bruise the skin, however, in her panic Sorrin stopped breathing of her own accord.

"So, Arden, will we proceed with your punishment now?"

Eye’s glazing over, Sorrin never heard her sister-bride’s response as the world around her warped and faded into an entirely different scene.

A tiny Sorrin sat huddled beneath a wooden table situated at the center of what was the family dining space. The room was covered in an unnatural darkness, the air thick with the musky scent of wet soil. Her breath and heartbeat had been the room’s only sounds for what felt like an eternity, the pounding rhythm becoming louder as her breathing strained. Somewhere off in the distance, the little Sorrin thought she could hear voices shouting to one another but she made no motion to move from her place under the table. A throbbing on the side of her head caused her to reach up and touch her fingers to her left temple, a thick and sticky substance coating the tips that brushed against her skin. It carried a faint metallic scent that Sorrin could not place but had grown accustomed to over the last several hours.

The blonde awoke with a gasp, body jolting up into a sitting position where she had previously been laying flat. It took her more than a few moments to gather her bearings, her eyes still stuck in a setting that was clearly not the present. Eyes scanning the room, she found her surroundings completely unfamiliar to her.

Events from the previous day came rushing back to her, the morning seeming lifetimes ago. A day that had started with a comforting trip to the hot springs had twisted so quickly. A large room full of warriors and crying women popped into her head, the sound of chains ringing in her memory. Chains…

Sorrin’s eyes opened wide, seeking the face of the man they had been handed over to. She jumped a little when her eyes fell upon him, his eyes staring her down from his seat across the room. He didn’t seem to be moving, just simply… observing. Her eyes shifted around her, wondering if he was looking at something other than her and her new sister-bride. Completely out of her element, the sleepy girl was at a loss for what she was supposed to do now.

“Um… Good morning?” Her words escaped as more of a question than anything else. Sorrin was sure to keep her voice low so as not to bother Arden if she was still sleeping.

“Excuse me sir… But, um, where exactly are we? This doesn’t look like the carriage.” She asked, glancing around the room again. Turning her nose up into the air, she breathed in heavily through her nose.

“It certainly doesn’t smell like it either. It’s so much cleaner, and kind of refreshing! Say, Mr. Grave Warden sir? What is that smell, I don’t think I recognize it?” If she had to compare it to something, it was almost like home. The air smelled open and fresh like the meadow she had been taken from… But it wasn’t quite the same. She thought that maybe the rain had played some part in the odd scent, however, she couldn’t smell the dirt that usually followed a storm back home.

Sorrin opened her mouth to speak again when a faint tingle around her neck caught her attention. Slowly she reached her fingers up to poke at her neck gingerly, wincing slightly as she did so. That part of the night had become fuzzy for her, only remembering the feeling of the man’s hands around her throat. She could recall neither what had led up to that moment nor anything after, leaving her more than a little confused and with a great deal of sadness in her eyes.

“D-did I do something wrong? If I did, I’m very sorry and I’ll try not to do it again… Although to be perfectly honest, I don’t exactly remember what happened. It’s so rude, I swear I was raised with better manners than this. Is there anyway I can make it up to you?” Sorrin looked up at the man staring back at her, a faint but apologetic smile on her face.

To Ineraz, waking seemed to involve simply becoming aware of his own breathing, usually when the first rays of sunshine teased at his eyelashes. He shifted in his bed and as his gaze landed on Zeldria, he realized she was awake already. “Morning,” he whispered in a greeting. Then he stood up, and unperturbed by the possibility of Zeldria getting an eye-full, shucked off his tunic and put on his usual leather armour. He frowned when he saw the still missing left vambrace, which had unfortunately been charred and destroyed in the tournament the day before. His left forearm still had obvious signs of being burned, but its state was already much better than it had been after his fight; it was now a pinkish soft red with scarring which would lessen but not completely disappear given time.

When he was done, he checked Sera’s corner, but she still seemed to be sleeping. This morning might be interesting for her, seeing as the previous night was her first time drinking. Dismissing her from his mind for the time being, he turned back to Zeldria. “You may wear the dress you brought with you yesterday. If you’d rather have something else, I can easily arrange a child Drakkan’s armour or day wear to be brought here.” He gave her some pause to think, while he went and picked up all his weapons, though having both the bow and crossbow (as well as the bolts and arrows, not to mention his melee weaponry) on him was slightly unwieldy. He’d put the ranged weaponry somewhere else, but for now, he had to remove such things from a room which would shortly be occupied by only one or two Gems.

He spoke to Zeldria again. “I’m going to spar. As long as you have one of the guards accompanying you – and I’ll soon send at least two here – you may explore the manor,” he didn’t even bother telling her not to try escaping or attacking anyone or destroying any property, she seemed smart enough (or at least, cautious enough) not to do that. “If you want a taste for what Drakkan combat practice is like, you should follow me though,” he offered the invitation with a smirk. Without particular care what she would decide to do, Ineraz left his bed chamber and found a pair of guards in one of the manor halls soon enough. He sent the two Drakken to stay outside of his room, but with instructions to accompany either Gem if any wished to go elsewhere.

As for himself, he went to the outside training ground, a simple circle of dirt in an otherwise grassy backyard. Some Drakken were already there – some could be found practicing combat (whether inside or out) at just about any time of the day. Ineraz greeted his fellows, deposited his weapons to one of the racks, and engaged one of them in a good, old fistfight. Knowing each other so well, they forewent with circling each other in an attempt to gauge the other’s skill, but simply clashed furiously in a swirl of fists, knees, elbows, feet, and horns. They weren’t shy about grappling and throwing and rolling, doing anything to gain a temporary advantage, which would be enough for a victory. Some minutes into the fight, Ineraz managed to elbow the other Drakkan to the nape of his neck, which staggered the male momentarily, and Ineraz pushed him to the ground easily, pulled his arms behind his back and held him there. The male Drakken on the ground nodded and they were done.

After several similar practice rounds, some with weaponry and element-use in addition, Ineraz worked up enough of a hunger to head back inside. He strolled the halls in a confident and satisfied manner, one which was generally a sign of either having had a good lay or a good fight. He walked to the manor’s great hall, since the hour was such that plenty of Drakken would be having their morning meal. If his Gems had been hungry during the hour or so that he was gone, this was where the guards would have led them. In case he didn’t find his brides here, Ineraz intended to eat first, then look for them to make sure they didn’t go hungry either. When they all ate, they could begin the day in earnest. And more importantly, he could introduce his brides to his hounds, after which he intended to take the Gems to the market, for they seemed to have no possessions of their own. It was now his responsibility to clothe them, and he preferred for them not to wear ill-fitting Drakkan hand-me-downs.

When Onyx let go Amalia felt like a child that had lost it's mother for a moment, not certain of how to proceed. She stayed rooted to her spot as Onyx climbed into the bed on one side of the Drakken. Amalia took a deep breath, willing herself to move. One foot in front of the other. One step at a time. One day at a time. One... night at a time.

She didn't like the feeling of separation she had with Wilhelm between them. What was his motive? Was this how they were to sleep from now on? If he had another wife then how would that work, unless he had a very large bed at his keep. Amalia winced at the idea of sharing a bed with three other people. Having had her own bed her whole life, this was a change and one she wasn't certain she could get used to.

Since she didn't want to make him angry Amalia got into the bed a minute or two after Onyx did. Her sister bride offered good night wishes and Amalia returned them. "May your dreams be blessed," she said.
Amalia laid on her back, staring at the ceiling. How was she to ever go to sleep? After everything that had happened that day she felt overwhelmed and incredibly nervous. She felt very exposed in her shift, feeling the heat emanating from Wilhelm's body even though they barely touched.

Amalia focused on controlling her breathing, trying to get her body to relax naturally. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Repeat.
Throughout the night she was plagued with nightmares of monstrous creatures devouring everything in their path. But they were not Drakken. They were something else entirely. Something much, much worse...