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Luna listened to both Amarantha and the mysterious woman speak up about their encounter with the Port Witches after she had used the window as her small escape route. She looked over towards her sister for a moment biting her bottom lip, she did feel a little bit bad for her sister since the Wendrons even though they did raise her they did CradleSnatch her when she was very young. Luna still felt very weak, as she tried to warm herself up a little bit more. "We can figure something out when we get back to the Castle.." Luna said towards Valda she was grateful for her to come up and help recue her and Reversed the CradleSnatching as well. But it did leave her sister open for someone to attack Valda and herself.

Luna turned to look at the woman who was holding her, she had never seen her before but she was also grateful for her help as well, as she looked up at the Castle now as they go to the landing that would take them to the Castle. "Who are you? And also thank you for helping rescuing me from the Port Witches.." Luna said softly as she watched Harlieanne tossing Amarantha some kind of flask, and mentioning the name Asha. Luna still intended to pay Harlianne for her help as well once they got into the Castle looking towards her sister. "When we get back home could you pay her for helping me?" Luna said gesturing towards the pirate woman.

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Lyra nodded her head in agreement to Asha, before her attention was pulled away as they were interrupted once again, but this time by Lord Laine. She blinked slightly, her lips thinning. He had a point that the Lady Maehers, a Tyme dragon of all beings, would likely have the knowledge they needed about this ancient writing. She felt a pang of guilt for not consulting Thalia earlier, feeling that in some way she had been disrespectful to the woman. "Indeed, my apologies," she stated earnestly, glancing between their two guests. Looking back over at Richard, she frowned as he clearly made light of the situation. Normally, she would make some bold retort, but right then, it just felt more like he was adding insult to injury. She bit her lip, before mentally shaking herself out of that mindset. She didn't think he had meant it as such.

Her attention turned to Thalia as she examined the book. She shook her head lightly, eyes widening in surprise at the woman's sudden recognition of the writing. It took a moment for her to gather her thoughts and form intelligible words. "I--Prince Myrus gave it to me to take to Mavis Moll as a gift," she explained. She glanced over at Asha before looking back down at the book as her brows furrowed. If this book was so important, she should probably let Prince Myrus know and see what he wished to do with it. After all, it wasn't her possession, so she had no right to decide what was done with it. However, the last time she saw the Prince, he didn't seem to be in the best of conditions. She supposed she would just have to keep it safe for the time being.

She suddenly spun around with a gasp as the baby suddenly lit Puck on fire. "Oh my god!!" she exclaimed. Grabbing her fire smothering blanket from earlier, she rushed over to help the man put out the flames. She glanced back over at the others, biting her lip as he yelled at them. Though the baby couldn't really help itself, she supposed she couldn't blame the man for being angry given the situation. She gave Asha a slight look of disapproval at her laughter, before she looked back over at Puck with geniune concern. Sure, she and him hadn't really met under the best circumstances, but nevertheless, she was far from heartless. "Are you alright?" she asked, looking him over.

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Atkin didn't particularly enjoy being designated as the errand boy, but he was the youngest here, and the apprentice. It was something he expected to be made to do. And as far as errands went, it was pretty minor but relatively important. So there was no real reason for him to begrudge being sent away except that he was just in a really bad mood. But this was the kind of situation where if he did grumble, Bryon would wallop him on the back of the head and tell him to stop dragging his arse.

So that's what he did. Wordlessly, he went over to the bell and gave it a ring. In the meantime he dug up a coin from one of his pockets to pay the rodent when it decided to show up. It may have been a time of crisis, but that probably wasn't going to stop them from demanding payment for the message.

"Speak rattus rattus," he commanded when the messenger rat showed up. "This message is going to the Port Authority. The ExtraOrdinary Wizard requests a report on the status of the Port Witch Coven's home. What was the outcome of the battle between the Wendron Witches and the Port Witches?" Short, simple, to the point. He gave the message rat the bit of cash and sent it away to complete its task. He was already fairly certain of the outcome, so the status report wasn't of much interest to him.

What was of interest was the fact that Luna and Valda had managed to end up right outside the Palace. The Wendron Witches had failed, but did the Young Army actually pull through and do something useful for once? Atkin's ears perked up, and his body language immediately changed. It didn't read like somebody who wanted to sit and skulk for the rest of the night, but of somebody who was about to act, and not a thing was going to stop him.

"I'm going to go outside and check up on them," he said, already making his way out of the Long Walk. Atkin's stride was fast, but even he had the mind to not run around through the Palace halls. Well at least not without good reason, which he could reasonably argue he did now, but the Royals were evidently not in mortal peril anymore (Myrus notwithstanding), so he just had to walk as quickly as he could out to the landing.

---

"It was my honor, your Highness," The woman was quick to respond to Luna's thanks. Truth be told, it wouldn't have been her prerogative to try hunting down the princess. When she first saw her disappear at the coronation, she was almost certain that she'd remain missing for quite some time as the Palace tried to track her down and retrieve her. The fact that she had made it back within 12 hours, let alone that she was one of the ones that allowed it to come to past was a miracle.

But then came the tricky part. The princess asked who she was. Her master would greatly prefer if she had maintained absolutely secrecy in this mission, letting nobody know of her presence, but that had gone out of the window halfway through. But it could also be an issue of how exactly to answer the girl to not accidentally end up disturbing her in her fragile state or giving away more than was absolutely necessary.

"My name is Anya, your Highness." At the very least, the girl deserved to know her name. Trying to squirm her way out of telling either of these two girls what they wanted likely would not end well. And the last thing anyone would want would be to end up on the personal bad side of the royal family they lived under. In the back of her head it also occurred to her that giving away her name in the presence of a witch, even if she was the new Queen could end up coming to bite her in the rear end, but it was unlikely to ever come into play, she told herself. But they had made it to the Palace landing. All she needed to do now was see them off into the Palace, slip out, and report back with how the mission had gone.

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Cuyler’s attention was already on Arya, so when her hand came to rest on top of his he wasn’t alarmed but he was surprised. He glanced down, feeling a shift as he relaxed from the previous use of Magyk and a curious warming sensation spread through his body. Although it was odd, Cuyler did not shift away from the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, instead he placed his other hand over top of hers and rotated his bottom hand so he held her hand securely between both palms. It wasn't normal for one to be this cold. When someone was this cold they didn’t last long.
More relief flooded through Cuyler when he heard that the party who had left to find Princess Luna had returned and were in fact just outside at the Palace Landing, coming from the Port landing.
With Atkin’s task completed, Cuyler watched him go out and greet the royal party. With them looked after he turned to look at Arya.
”It’s time we got you in front of a fire. It is only going to get colder and the last time I checked, you aren’t immune to cold. You aren’t are you?” Cuyler asked, throwing in a bout of humor to break up his serious tone.
He was genuinely worried about Arya. She had been a true friend to him over these last couple years. Listening to his fears and she knew everything about his family. A friend yes but something pleasant had twisted in his stomach when she blushed from their closeness and it continued to stir as he held onto her hand.
Cuyler shifted, ready to pick up the Wizard if she refused him and in doing so is arm bumped an object hidden on his person. Arya’s gift. He nearly forgot about it in all the commotion of the day; however, now was not the best time to give it to her but he now had a bargaining chip if she refused him.

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No matter how hard Amarantha would beat herself up for not securing the Princess sooner, the Queen had seemed to forgive her. She glanced over her shoulder at the sisters, watching their encounter and gave a curt nod. Well, at least she had given them that. The pirate woman, Harlianne if she remembered correctly, drew her attention away from the reunion and tossed her a flask. She caught it with her good arm, not even able to move her broken arm even if she had attempted. Seemed the cold had completely numbed that apendiage along with her broken leg. Compared to Amarantha’s cold hand, the flask was intensely warm. Magyk. There had to be a potion contained in here, a potion that would speed up healing. Amarantha held the flask up to Harlianne and bowed her head in thanks before she pulled the top off with her teeth, spat the cork aside and took a healthy drink. Poisoned or not she would have drank the mysterious liquid. It either would start to make her feel better like the pirate said or kill her. Either was acceptable right now.
As the warm liquid slid down her throat, it had a rather distinct earthy taste to it but it was more than that and Amarantha had a brief vision of pulling earthworms from the dirt and chasing the other girls in the Young Army with them. What potion was made with earthworms? Interesting. However curious the taste was, the drink began to work and Amarantha felt her limbs loosening, along with that burning ache from before and the numbing pain of now ease. Relief flooded through the woman’s features as it truly did begin to work. She glanced over at the pirate, the flask still at her lips as she took in the pistols at her hip. Amarantha pulled the flask from her lips after she had taken her drink, having decided that she wouldn’t like another wound to inflict more pain on her.
”You said Asha gave this to you? Asha the Magykal?” she asked. The wizard was currently in the Palace, she had attended the ceremony but looking at this rouge pirate and thinking of Asha’s appearance, it was rather peculiar to think how the two had met.
There was a light bump as the barge reached its mark to the Palace Landing. Amarantha breathed a sigh of relief, surprising even herself at her gratefulness. She looked behind her at Boy 512 who was shivering still.
”Go, get warm and find someone to help bring me in,” Amarantha spoke, feeling more generous than usual in her unusual state.

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Richard gave a roll of his snake like eyes. "Ah, then who wrote it?" He question the dragoness, reaching a hand down to tousel his child's scaled head. Little did he expect the small child to sneeze a fireball. Yanking a hand back before it could be singed. Though he noted with slight amusement that Puck was not so lucky. While he held no ill will towards the man, and catching on fire was never a fun experience. The scream was a added garnish. A hand waving off Lyra's apology. It was not necessary to his eyes.

But then Puck threatened his baby girl and his child's mother. Richard let loose a dangerous hiss at the small man, his body in motion as he steered Thalia and Zekarra behind him. "I would chose your words carefully, little man." His eyes flashed in anger as he stalked towards Puck with a deadly grace. "While I do not agree with my child lighting things on fire, my wife does speak true. She is just a child and a babe." The mutant's fist wrapped into the front of Puck's shirt as the fabric strained when the fool was lifted and slammed back into a wall. The assassin leaning in close as a knife appeared in his hand. "And she. Is. Mine." There was no little in how angry Richard was. He was a protector of his family, it was how he had always been. Now with a child of his own? It only magnified the drive.

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The rogue wizard gave a groan of annoyance at the crowd before him. Well this explained it all too clearly. Running irritated hands through his hair the man cursed the witch twins that had brought them to the Port. It had been well worth it! Hah! That was a laugh, all he had to show for his troubles was a bullet in his leg and people who knew his face. Cold rage seered the man's innards as he mused over the quickest way back. The quickest way to being forgotten and then dragging down ever single pathetic existence in the Castle.

So he muttered the simplest of spells, a teleport to his home. It was easy enough, he had done it before. He would feel the rush, the power- the utter sputtering of cracking failure as his spell crashed and burned. Rhys felt that ire grow. He was no blubbering apprentice, rather he was a grown accomplished wizard! Despite the insults his mentor threw at him. Gritting his teeth, the man stalked towards the Smuggler's Bolt. A foul smelling, putrid marsh. But a quick way home. Cursing out his luck the entire day. Rhys felt fresh air fill about him and the man picked up his pace. His leg would ache later but what choice did he have?

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Looking over at Asha when she spoke, pointing to her necklace, Thalia nodded. "Yes, it speaks greatly of that, and the others..." she said softly, before turning to address Richard. "It was Ms. Stark who wrote the original, this was translated into Serbian by someone along the line... It doesn't matter, what does matter is what it is talking about, those things are freaky, no offense to you, but I tend to avoid them at all cost."

Hearing Puck snap at Thalia, her skin started to shimmer, her eyes flashing with fire. "You are not to talk to my daughter like that!" she snapped, smoke practically coming from her mouth as she spat the words at him. The dragon within her was wanting to come out and swallow Puck whole, no hesitation, but she was holding her back, not wanting to cause any problems with Zekarra.

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"Yup, we can... And sure, we can pay her for her help. Thank you for helping my sister," Valda said, saying this last sentence directly to Harlianne, nodding her head. The woman didn't even seem to really recognize that she was talking to the Queen, or had helped the Princess, but that didn't really matter. She had helped Luna when she needed it most, and she would be grateful for that forever.

"We should probably see about getting you back inside the Palace... Get someone to have a look at you to make sure you are okay, as well as get the payment for her," she said simply, giving her sister a smile. She was practically ignoring the Young Army members who were there, not really caring that they were there at all. The fact that they were even there were irrelevant to things, as she had already had to deal with her brother collapsing, hopefully her sister was fine, and there was some good news regarding Myrus.

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"Well, yes, that is true I suppose. Though it also depends entirely on whether or not there ever will be a situation like that... Though you are right... We tend to believe that the four will return and help us out in our time of need. Now, whether or not I believe you're father is actually the Master of the Cosmos is not something I can determine, though the fact that they have the same name is a little bit odd if you ask me," she said in response to Marya's comment.

She turned away, before she decided to listen to the conversation between Bruce and Marya, wondering if there was any sort of clue about them. Things definitely were a little weird about them, but she didn't know anything about them really. Myth was an interesting person, not seeming to care that apparently the guy never had a girlfriend. She did still feel bad for him, but not sure what she could say about it.

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Myth was enjoying the back and forth between the twin girls and Bruce. It was kind of cute, in a way, how anxious and nervous he was getting over it. "Course we believe it, but I doubt we are in a crisis just yet. I dunno, it would be interesting to meet them one day. Any of them really." Myth took another sip of her drink as one of the twins told her that Bruce liked her.

She nearly choked on her drink. She hadn't expected that. "Oh well, no need to be modest, Bruce. I like you too. You're far more interesting than most other guys I've talked to. And those two with you are a riot. So are your sisters around here? I could help you look for them. Been itching for an adventure or two and it sounds like a lot of fun."

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It was kind of quaint when she looked at it, but Fleur was in no mood to be wooed by the scenery. She carried Nera's body indoors and placed her in one of the beds. Constance was right, they would bury her in the morning with a ceremony and honor her memory then. "Yes, that's fine. I trust there are protective measures around this? Wouldn't want another battle after we narrowly won that last one. We'll get preparations going soon. I could use a rest. I am worn out. See if you can get a sense of where the twins are, I'd like them here to help."

With that, Fleur entered and found another bed to rest in, closing her eyes as she let the event's of that day wash past her. She lost Mal. She lost Nera. She lost a few others, but they had won. They prevailed and lived to tell. And now the true work began. She would honor Nera, she would use her gift, and she would exact revenge.

But those were thoughts for another day.

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The Winking Duck Tavern

While Sylvi and Myth were both having interesting conversations, the rest of the bar was far from silent. Customers continued to order ale and FizzFroot, mixing them on occasion and one unfortunate fellow even got one dumped on his head. Yet beyond the usual juvenile antics, there was a woman sobbing in the corner. She hadn't come into the bar too long ago.

"My son....My baby boy..." she mumbled, holding a filthy handkerchief to her eyes.

"This is all that blasted witch Queen's doing!" a man snapped, with a half a dozen others murmuring in agreement.

"I heard it was a set up too, that the Queen paid the Port Witches to off her baby sister..." another chimed in.

One of them slammed their fist down on the table. "We've waited long enough for that purple bitch to do somethin' about this! It's time we took matters into our own hands and burned that damned witch at the stake! Just like in the olden days..."

Back over at the bar itself, where the twins, Bruce, and the bards were seated, Marya just rolled her eyes at her adoptive father. "Ох, велики проблем? Као да је узео два тинејџера који су изгубили родитеље, а онда су играли мртвог оца?" Marya taunted, sticking close to her twin sister. "Хоћеш ли да откачиш ово место, сестро?" she then asked Medea softly. She had started to get bored poking fun at Bruce. And Sylvi, sadly, wasn't giving the sort of rise that she had hoped for.

Road out of the Port


Rhys' luck has finally taken a turn for the better. For reference, he rolled a 17 on the d20 this turn. The Smugglers Bolt path is relatively deserted and as it heads underneath the ground, it stays firm. There's no signs of an impending cave in and the air quality remains relatively fresh. However, he is far from alone. As he continues to walk through the Smugglers' Bolt, a spectral form of a man Appears to him.

The man hasn't been seen at the Castle in almost a decade, though it didn't matter, as Rhys would recognize him instantly. The ghost was Fendrel Silvers, the husband of the late Queen Meliscente. Most in the Castle assumed that he had been killed by some illness, with Queen Meliscente forbidding the guard to speak of what had happened due to grief. He had been a knight, catching the eye of the Queen and causing her to forgo a marriage for political alliance.

Fendrel looked at Rhys, giving him a smile. "My daughter looked beautiful - didn't she?"

Palace Servants Quarters - Lyra's Bedroom

Lyra managed to put out the flames that had threatened Puck's life, though it was more fortunate for Richard than the Young Army commander himself. Puck stared into Richard's eyes as he was slammed up against the wall. He regretted for a moment dispatching his Deputy Hunter - but he did not oversee the entire Young Army for no reason. "Of course," Puck said with a sympathetic tone. "Forgive me - the sudden flames on my person took me by surprise...and brought out an ugliness within me. I mean no harm to come to your child."

Asha glanced at Puck, raising an eyebrow. "No, just like you wish no harm to come to the other children you call soldiers," she said simply. "In my country, you would be stoned for that. And it would be called a mercy." Baby Zekarra seemed to have calmed down, just snuggling in Thalia's arms and making the occasional cooing noise.

Puck laughed, looking at Asha. "Now I see you, my dear."

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Arya nodded absentmindedly as Atkin explained he was going to go out to the landing to meet the Queen and her sister. Her mind was hyper focused on Cuyler cupping her hand and there was something so thrilling about it, she half expected to remove the glove from her left hand and see that the scar had vanished entirely. "Unfortunately, I am not immune to it, no..." The chill had largely left her body and Rowland glanced over at the pair, chuckling.

"Arya, my dear, your surroundings," Rowland nudged her, before he went off after Atkin. He couldn't help but be amused with how hopeless his former Apprentice was when it came to matters of the heart. She had such promise and potential - as well as natural skill - for Magyk. But romance? She seemed to be lacking in that department.

"Right, of course," Arya responded, letting go of Cuyler's hand. As she moved to head outside to the landing herself, Cuyler would manage to catch her by the arm for a moment. Her green eyes locked with his for a second before she pulled away, shaking her head slightly. "I still have my duties to attend to - as the Castle's ExtraOrdinary Wizard," she said softly. There were other words that hovered in the silence, ones that she herself didn't even quite understand. For now, they would have to be unsaid.

"Fine, but I'm coming with you and I will be with you until you take a bloody break," Cuyler said and moved ahead to lead her out into the cold. He had seen his fair share of death due to cold and Ayra was showing all the signs but he knew stubbornness when he saw it. Too bad for her, there was a stubbornness within Cuyler as well.

Arya smiled slightly. "What if I care to take a break void of bloodshed?" She then headed out to the Palace Landing, Cuyler accompanying her. The sun was setting and brilliant hues of red, orange, and pink painted the sky. Snowflakes continued to fall from the sky, landing in Arya's dark hair and creating a vivid contrast. As she stood on the docks next to Atkin, she felt Cuyler's chest making contact with her back. Any shiver or tremble that went through her body, he would be able to feel with ease. Perhaps it was the chill or her emotions, but the blush on her cheeks only increased, looking practically crimson.

"Aye, bit of a fancy title if I do say so meself," Harlianne answered Amarantha, offering no more information than that. Asha the Magykal wasn't someone that Harlianne looked like she'd be an associate with by any means. Amarantha would instantly feel better having drank some of the potion, with Harlianne taking it back and tucking it away in a pocket. Sure, Amarantha's bonds were far from mended but the process had been accelerated quickly.

"Your highness - I am glad to see you and your sister have returned safely," Rowland said, a genuine smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

"Please, come inside, your highnesses," Arya then added. She noted that the Deputy Hunter was there, along with two women she didn't recognize. It bothered her as they were unknown variables, but what was important was that Luna and Valda had both returned to the Palace safely. There was no Magyk about Luna to suggest that she had been successfully CradleSnatched either. "Myrus Marcellus is with Becky, the healer," Arya explained, looking at Luna in particular. "She can tend to both of you and one of your servants should be able to fetch the coin promised to this....person."

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Constance nodded. "Of course - Antonije may be an idiot, but he isn't a fool," she explained. His talents were more with mechanics and machinery, but there was a reason Constance had adopted him practically the day his and the twins' parents died. His talents were incredibly rare and it was a shame that he refused to learn Magyk. He could have been a powerful and mighty Warlock, an asset to the Port Witch Coven.

Eventually, Fleur's peace was interrupted but not by Constance. She was having trouble locating the twins. Instead, Jezebel entered the room, looking at Fleur. "I had a vision," she told the Witch Mother, taking a seat on a bed next to her. She was clairvoyant, her own special gift. "You're going to want to pay attention to this one."

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"Thank you for your help, the three of you.." Luna said, towards Anya, Amarantha as well as Harlianne as the barge continued to make it's way towards the Castle Landing, her eyes wondered over towards the sky seeing the sun starting to set which was a very beautiful sight. Luna shivered ever so slightly in Anya's arms from the cold as she whipped away some of the snowflakes that landed on her face. Her eyes then turned towards Valda and nodded, she really did hate the cold weather she just wanted to get back to her room and warm up. The day was the worse that Luna had ever experienced, she didn't want to think about what the Port Witches would have done to her. Eventually they were at The Castle Landing now, Luna ignored what the others who were on the barge were talking about.

Luna turned towards The ExtraOrdinary Wizard, when she said that Myrus was with Becky which made her worry about her younger brother what had exactly happened while in the Port Witch Coven House. "Whats happened to Myrus? I want to see him." Luna asked and winced slightly feeling her head hurt slightly again. "Your brother is probably dead." The voice finally spoke again in her head which Luna started to worry about him even more. "Take me to my brother right now." Luna demanded looking over towards the others.

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Lyra let out a small sigh of relief when she was able to put out the flames that had engulfed Puck. However, her relief proved to be short-lived. Before she could hardly react, Lord Laine lifted the Young Army commander off the ground and slammed him back against the wall, apparently having taken personal offense to the smaller man's sharp words. She hopped up from where she had been crouched, her hand instinctively flying to the hilt of her sword. She took a deep, focusing breath, before reluctantly releasing the grip on her sword, realizing that it would likely only further provoke Lord Laine. She hadn't known the man for very long, and yet it had become quickly apparent to her that he had a short fuse. As such, she wasn't about to risk making the situation worse than it already was. She glanced sharply back over at Lady Maehers to see that unfortunately the situation was already escalating before she could even do anything to stop it. She knew that something had to be done, and quickly, but also very carefully. One thing was certain. She would not see her room coated in the crimson of murder.

Her eyes were laser focused on Puck and Richard, as she cautiously approached them. However, before she could even begin any sort of negotiations in order to spare Puck's life, a certain conversation transpired that took her totally by surprise. "WHAT?!" she practically spat, her head swinging over to look at Asha. The man, this Gwydion Puck, used children as soldiers?! This was news to her, and the depravity of it all struck a chord deep within her. Her nostrils flared, her blue-green eyes darkening as she returned her attention to Puck and Richard. A part of her, that powerful storm that laid just below her usually serene surface, wanted to just let Richard and Thalia do whatever they wished to Puck, the law be damned. But, in the end, the lawful good side of her that reigned supreme just couldn't let that happen, not on her watch. She took another deep, hopefully calming, breath. "Enough," she commanded, her words seemingly holding much power and authority to them. "Let him go. This can and will be handled by the book. Nothing more, nothing less. You and your family will not be able to leave here peacefully if you kill this man in cold blood. So, let him go now."

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Cuyler stopped, turning and scowled at Arya and her perfect stubbornness. It would be so much easier if she wasn’t higher up than him. He simply would have taken her away, protests or not but he followed her as she walked past and led the way out of the Castle and down to the landing. He understood the image she needed to present, the strength she had to portray but he wasn’t going to leave her side for a second. He stepped right up behind her until her back was pressed against his chest. He surveyed the people on the barge. For the most part it looked like everyone was doing well. Cold, but alive. Cuyler watched Ayra as she spoke of Myrus. Snowflakes had fallen into her hair and Cuyler’s mind flashed to his sister, running through the snow and trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue while she laughed. He had to resist the urge to touch Ayra’s hair and watch the snowflakes melt from his touch.
Winter held a special place in Cuylers’ heart. In the Land of Lost Nights, there were only a few months of warmth and long days but the majority of the year had below freezing temperatures and snow. He loved the magic of snow and what it possessed. The long nights back home provided a sky he could chart by and it was there that he learned most of his astronomy; however, it became difficult to stay outside the further into winter it got. When winter hit in the Land of Lost Nights, it hit hard and every year was different. The cold seeped into every crack and sometimes it didn’t matter how many furs you wore or slept with at night, the cold had a way of finding you. The cold here however, was far different. In this current state, it felt just like the beginnings of winter compared to what it would be like back home. The people of this land though weren't used to cold winters like Cuyler and the current cold was taking a toll on its people.
”We can discuss the prince and what has happened to the Witches and Princess Luna back inside. Beside a nice warm fire,” Cuyler urged the group.

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Amarantha bowed her head politely at Princess Luna’s thank-yous. Of course the woman would have enjoyed taking the soul credit for the Princess’s return but that was not the case. After Harlianne took the flask back, Amarantha adjusted her position, feeling slightly better as she waited for Boy 512 to return. She stretched out her broken arm, feeling the break still very present but it wasn’t agonizing anymore. With some help from the Young Army’s healer, she was sure to have a much faster recovery then what it would have been several minutes ago.
As Boy 512 disappeared, three other people walked out of the Castle to greet the party on the barge and join the ExtraOrdinary Wizard’s apprentice. Amarantha appraised the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, the apprentice and her teacher as they stood in front of them. There was also a rather tall man behind the ExtraOrdinary Wizard. He seemed anxious for something and Amarantha couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of the person he stood so closely behind.
Amarantha began to shift uncomfortably. She was at a disadvantage being broken and weak in front of so many people. Enemies they really were. The Young Army wasn’t know for working well with others and the Deputy Hunter shared the same feelings, so sitting here with no ability to just walk away or defend herself was proving difficult. It got worse when Boy 512 returned with Palace guards to carry Amarantha back in. She glared as they approached her but in all honesty, they would be able to easily carry her where she needed to go. The cold was really starting to set in as the sun dropped further.
”Well don’t just stand there, help me up,” Amarantha demanded. She held out her good arm to one of them and planted her good foot onto the deck of the barge so she could help bring herself stand and so they knew which parts not to grab on her. She tucked her bad arm against her chest as they approached her and lifted her off the ground.
With one last look at Luna, confirming that was indeed alright, Amarantha focused ahead as Boy 512 ran off ahead into the castle and disappeared. The guards took Amarantha down to the infirmary and laid her in a bed beside Prince Myrus. What had happened to him while they were gone?

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If nothing else, it was an absolute relief that there was something that managed to work out today. He had his doubts, but the Young Army managed to pull through and actually do something good for once. Even if they seemed to have lost half the members they had sent on the mission. But that was understandable considering the witches had been pulling each other's hair out at the same time. They probably got caught in the crossfire.

At the same time, he couldn't help but notice Arya show up with Cuyler. And he was being real comfortable with her. In a different time and a different place, he might have just went and socked the guy in his mouth right there. He was really lucky that there were more pressing matters at the moment and that he'd fucked up enough today that he wasn't going to do anything further. So the wizard apprentice settled for shooting the guy a look before stepping aboard the barge.

"You don't look to be in good shape, princess. Do ya need help?" He offered his hand to help her get up. The lady that was holding on to her gently removed herself and stepped away from everyone else. He had no idea who she or that other lass that was talking to the Hunter were, but they weren't making any trouble, so that was none of his business.

"Your brother's in bad shape. Somebody f- messed him up really badly. Went through his mind and did stuff to him. Had him knocked out for a good while. And when he came to he... exploded. Like made a magykal burst from his hands. But it wasn't Magyk. And then the cold hit him real bad." He decided to leave out the bits about the dragon, mutants and apparently some crazy bitch trying to kill everyone notable in the Castle. At least for now. She had already had a bad enough day as it was, and all of that was nonessential information to the topic of "what's wrong with Myrus."

"I'll help you get to Becky if you want it," he offered. Truth be told, she could probably use the aid of a Physician as well and it didn't seem like anyone else was jumping to voluteer for that specific job. Even that woman who'd been holding her just a couple of minutes ago. When he looked back to where she was, he couldn't see one sign of her. She must have slipped away while his attention was on the princess.

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Richard gave a small and cruel smile. One that spoke of serpents and sly deaths. A man who made children fight? It was one thing when it was Professor Xavier. But this? In such a setting as he was reading these were not the protected and sheltered children like at the Manor. His hold shifted and he had Puck's neck in his hand. "Children are not pawns." He had lost a sister to illness, another to his mother's cruelty. He would not watch more children suffer.

As the newly made knight demanded the half-man's release, Richard did not look away from his prey. But his voice was something of the frigid north he had called his home ages past. "Let us?" His grip tightened slowly on Puck. Squeezing the life from the man. "We are not from your kingdom, and you do not allow me anything little girl. The fact remains you could not stop us even if you wished to." There was murder in Richard's eyes, fueled by his fatherly nature. This short, stubby man was a threat. More than that, he was a proven threat. It would take a sharp word from Thalia for the assassin to drop Puck.

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Rhys had a bad enough time in his childhood. Save for a loving mother, which a part of his mind noted was balanced out by his teacher. A sharp, old fool whose tongue was what ended him. One comment too many about the woman Rhys had come from. A well deserved death, and his first. The rogue remembered the sick glee, yet the twisting in his gut. Worry about being caught, found, and punished. His first month away had been a nightmare. One that had ebbed over time. How annoying that the same feeling would grace him once more in the infernal marsh.

Yet spying a ghost Rhys Asher slowed his steps. Before him was Fendrel Silvers, the husband of the late Queen Meliscente. As the man spoke of his daughter, the assassin wondered if it was the one who was crowned or taken? But why tell the king of such things? His mind would be disquiet and Rhys was not of habit to trouble the dead. Making them dead? Yes. Taking their comforts in death? No. "Lovely enough. A bit young for me to judge, Lord." Of all the beings in the Castle or anywhere Fendrel did not deserve his hate. "Though I do wonder why you walk about here and not the gilded halls were you might better glimpse them? If you would humor me by walking with me Lord?"

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Now, Thalia ever since she was younger, has always had a soft spot for children, even those who were not her own. Folly was kind of the first one many years ago, before everything, that she had taken a liking to. Then there were some of the kids at the mansion that she had helped out years before, but turning them into soldiers? She had never met a more selfish person in her entire life, she'd know, she used to be somewhat selfish and vain when it came to things.

"How dare you do that to children. Sorry to you, Ms. Laurek, but I do not have any sort of tolerance for that sort of thing, especially when children are involved," Thalia snapped, before her skin seemed to shimmer slightly, and she took a deep breath. A second later a shot of silver energy came from her mouth in a stream, hitting Puck squarely. She didn't stop until he had turned to dust, a moment later, she looked at her daughter with a smile. "And that is how mommy deals with the bad people."

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Valda nodded her head, listening to Arya's words. She hoped that her brother would be alright, she worried about him, and was concerned for his well being. She understood Luna's concern, especially since she had vanished before the major problems with Myrus had started, and she didn't know what had happened to him. The fact that he was still under care made her worry even more, but she didn't voice her concerns out loud.

"Hurry, let's get inside, out of the cold, and we can check on Myrus then," she said, before she started heading towards the Palace. Valda was eager to get out of the cold, and hopefully there was some good news revolving around her brother. She returned Rowland's smile as she walked, partially pretending that no one else was really there. Her day had been hectic, and horrible, and she couldn't wait for everything to end finally.

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"...I'm sorry for that Marya..." he said softly, before looking at Myth again, "W-W-Well, my sisters don't generally stick around in one place for very long... I came in here looking for Astrid sort of... D-d-didn't really expect to find her though, she's kind of the nomad. My oldest sister Halley is probably back home knowing her. Then there is the youngest, Nova, she, well, she's a bit of a wild card when it comes to where she is..." he said, managing to talk to Myth without much stuttering.

Sylvi found the conversation between Bruce and Myth hilarious, as he stuttered a lot around her, the guy clearly didn't have much social skills at all. It made her wonder just how often he talked to girls who weren't his sisters. Hearing those names though, she couldn't help but notice the parallels between the names there, and the names of the ones in the Myth of Four. Could the twins have been telling her the truth.

He heard the woman's cries, and instantly perked up, hearing the words that they were saying. The Port Witches had killed someone? Then why the hell were they just randomly wanting to blame the queen for it? She literally just had gotten the role of queen, she hadn't even been crowned for 24 hours yet, why were they freaking out so much? Sure, she was a witch, and now Bruce was starting to see some similarities between now and the time that his parents always talked about. Clearly humans never learned from their mistakes.

She wasn't too happy with the sounds of the conversation going on around the tavern. It sounded like they were wanting to kill the new queen. Sure, she was a witch, and Sylvi didn't like witches all too much, but still, they didn't have any evidence to support their claims against her. "There has to be a better way to voice concerns," she muttered under her breath, looking at the group of people.

"Наравно," Medea said to her sister with a smile.

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"That was almost the first full sentence you spoke to me without stuttering. Proud of ya, Bruce." She held up her drink in mock form of cheers before downing it and placing it on the counter for a refill. His words were interesting and Myth, having been raised on such lessons like the Four, noticed the names of the man's sisters correlated pretty well. For all she knew, his parents just really liked the song and wanted to name their children after them.

Still, Myth liked poking the bear, as it were. "So Bruce, couldn't help but notice that your sister's names fit with the song I just got done singing about the Four. What, are your parents just big fans of it?" Before she could continue, Myth's attention was drawn to a woman crying and others yelling and screaming about witches and burning. Myth enjoyed a good riot as much as the next person, but she wasn't about to be caught in the middle of something she had no stake in. "Seems like things are about to get very heated here. Not sure I enjoy the thought of staying here tonight. Don't suppose you got ideas, huh Bruce?" Myth may have been coming on a bit strong, but she did like the guy. And she didn't want to be around this upcoming mob.

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Fleur wasn't asleep for long when she was interrupted. Jezebel came in, and Fleur knew it was trouble. The girl was a clairvoyant and, though the gift was appreciated, it often dealt bad news. This was no different. "Fine, fine. Tell me this vision." Jezebel hesitated, fearing she will anger the Witch Mother before she continued. "I saw a man, but I was not able to get a clear picture. He seemed angry. He holds the stars in his hands and has the power to destroy worlds if he chooses. He claims the Port itches did something to his family. He seemed very angry."

As Jezebel whimpered, Fleur brushed it off. "We just fought a battle and won. We had no time to go after some random man's family. This "world destroyer" is probably blowing smoke to get a rise. Hells, just the other morning we had someone screaming at us, but we took care of him. Fear not, petal. This man won't be an issue." Fleur knew she had the power to fight back, even if he wanted to cause trouble. Though she had to admit she was curious as to why he was angry.

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The first riot broke out in the southern section of the Ramblings at 5 o'clock, not too long after the sun had fully set. As is often the case with these things, it's hard to pinpoint what exactly triggered the rioting. The only casualties were in the Young Army, with Young Army medics removing the bodies from the scene once the riots had been quelled in the area. Per protocol, a large pit was dug on the roads outside of the Castle, near the Farmlands, for the bodies to be disposed of in.

The second riot lasted from 10 o'clock to 4 o'clock in the morning, terrorizing the northeastern section of the Ramblings. Citing anger at their new Witch Queen and the murder of an innocent boy near the Hole-in-the-Wall Tavern, the rioters accidentally set the Winking Duck tavern ablaze, igniting the ample spirits inside. Silas Carlan, estranged uncle of Nera Hawthorn, Lucian Periculum, Crown Princess Luna's tutor, and Halvor Odinsen, the Northern Trader were among those who perished in the flames.

The stores in the Centre Ramblings Market were looted, with poor Frances Pickerin, the last remaining Wendron Witch (other than Queen Valda), being tossed out a window by the angered citizens of the Castle. She wasn't the only one thrown from the windows - those who remembered the previous crimes of the Young Army, already angered with their unauthorized implementation of martial law, were also tossed out by angered mobs. The poor Young Army medics spent less time helping their fellow soldiers than they did dragging their bodies back to camp.

An entire group of the Young Army soldiers - those older than the age of 17, as the children were largely spared - were locked inside the practical room of the Ramblings Players and pelted with rotten food. And yet, with Field Marshal Puck being mysteriously absent and Deputy Hunter Amarantha stationed at the Palace, some of the younger soldiers deserted, slipping into the Ramblings Orphanage and pretending they had been there all along. It was likely for the best that they did, as Castle residents ran to the rooftop gardens of the Ramblings and pelted the fleeing soldiers with anything they could find.

By the time the dust settled, 75% of the Young Army was dead or otherwise unaccounted for. Only 3.75% of the Castle's population met a similar state. The Palace Guard had valiantly defended the Royal Family, keeping the riots and mobs from storming the gates of the Palace. There were several attempts by the rioters to do exactly that. In the morning, it took a coordinated effort between the Ordinary Wizards, the remnants of the Young Army, and the Palace Guard to restore the impacted areas of the Ramblings.

The Hunter of the Young Army was unaccounted for, as was Puck. Regardless as to whether she had been anticipating it or not, Amarantha was now the highest ranking officer in the Young Army. It was hers to command.

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@BlueSky44: Valda's sleep was constantly interrupted throughout the night. Early in the morning, she had to meet with the Palace Guard, the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, the Castle Alchemist, and other officials to discuss the riots. Fortunately, the coordinated effort managed to repair most of the damage, though there was structural damage to the Ramblings that would need to be seen to. Emperor Taj sat in on the meeting, remaining mostly silent. The news that Peter Wylie had perished was troubling - it could spell the outbreak of war with the Eastern SnowPlains.

In the Throne Room, at the present time, Emperor Taj went over to Valda, sighing slightly. "My sister just finished inspecting the damage at Port - it seems the two Covens collided and wiped each other out nearly completely..." he told her quietly. "The device used to kill your mother...It was there."

@BlueSky44: Sylvi's night would be a difficult one. Her room at the Ramblings was near the source of the rioting, but luckily, her door was only tried a few times and no one managed to break inside. The most annoying thing would have been the ghosts that were constantly fleeing. As a Spirit-Seer, she'd be able to see them all. One of them was muttering something about how they were going to ruin all of the cabbages!

In the morning, members of the Palace Guard were patrolling the Ramblings, looking for those who had instigated the riots. The Winking Duck Tavern won't be operational for a while, but as a bard, she has a right to enter Wizard Tower and knows its password. Perhaps a change of scenery might do her some good.

@FantasyChic: Myth and Bruce easily had the best nights of anyone at the Castle, aside from perhaps the CHS at the Manuscriptorium. But he is a matter for another time. Bruce's residence in the Ramblings is located in the dead middle, untouched by the riots. Bruce's bedroom connects into the living area/kitchen. The room closest to the front door remained unoccupied - it's where his sisters tend to sleep, as only one of them is usually there at a time. In the room over, Marya and Medea spent the night, the twin speedsters sleepily oblivious to the activities happening elsewhere in the home.

In the morning, Bruce told Myth that he would be back shortly - he just needed to handle a custody dispute. She was welcome to stay as long as she liked and he warned her that although the twins might pretend to not speak English, they were fluent in it. They just couldn't read or write it.

@mnkee: Asha had made hot chocolate with cinnamon in it for Lyra, hoping that it would soothe her after the brutal death of Puck. As a person who dealt with Magyk and lived and breathed it, Asha had seen troublesome and gruesome things before. She had failed spectacularly as well and could empathize with Lyra's feelings of guilt and horror due to her own experiences. She had offered to spend the night with Lyra to comfort her, but ultimately ended up using the Ancient Ways to return home. She and Emperor Taj had returned early in the morning by the Ancient Ways, assisting Queen Valda and the people of the Castle in dealing with the new mess.

As the sun rose in the Castle, there was a soft knock at the door. "Lyra?" Asha called out softly. "Are you decent?" she asked. Mavis Moll's gift was still in Lyra's room, which Asha had helped to restore mostly through Magyk, though the Fyre from a dragon was hardly an easy thing to undo. It itself had Magykal properties.

@LadyRunic: Fendrel had walked with Rhys for a while through the Smugglers Bolt, but the man's mind seemed disorganized. He would constantly go back to fawning over his daughters, speaking at lengths about how they had their mother's hairs and his grandmother's spirit. If Rhys didn't know the precise reasons behind the names of each member of the Royal Family before, he certainly did now. Yet at one point, Fendrel just gave Rhys a smile. "I enjoyed this walk," he said, before he vanished.

Rhys' street was relatively untouched by riots, yet a majority of those who lived there provided the material for the riots. They were the instigators, traveling to the Ramblings where the Young Army presence was the greatest. Tom, his prisoner/patient, hadn't made any effort to escape but he had carved into the walls with his fingernails, now caked with blood. ESREN MADE ME DO IT was written over and over again.

@Dragoknighte: Atkin was told to remain in Wizard Tower once they had returned. Arya would have preferred to tell him to stay on the 21st and 20th floors, yet she doubted he would actually listen to her if she requested that. She also decided to make the (likely horrible) decision to allow him to access the Pyramid Library without supervision. Regardless as to what Atkin had decided to do that morning, there would be breakfast and tea waiting for him downstairs, where Arya and Rowland were talking.

Oh, but there is one small detail of note... Atkin's Magyk? Well, erm....He's basically giving off the scent of catnip. On a massive scale. But he himself can't smell it. Only the cats can. The minute he opens his door, every single cat in Wizard Tower will pounce on him. (Thirty one cats. You're welcome).

@KazAlkemi: From Cuyler's boat, he will be able to see the riots at the Ramblings clearly. The gates were ordered shut on his end, with Young Army and Palace Guard sentries keeping anyone from entering or leaving through them. In the morning, most of the Northern Traders were refused entry into the Castle, under an explanation that it was unsafe to enter and the gate would resume service the next day. However, Cuyler will receive a message rat and a shiny purple badge - the symbol of the ExtraOrdinary Wizard - to allow him to enter and leave the Castle as he pleases.

Of course, not all of the Northern Traders were accounted for. Halvor Odinsen didn't make it. He never came back. His closest friend among the traders, whom he had traveled with to the Castle, was going into fits of planning the funeral with outbursts of painful sobs. Some of them are blaming the Queen for allowing this to happen. Others the Young Army, reasoning that nothing good could come of them. A few are whispering about what this could mean for the relationship between the Castle and the Land of Long Nights.

@KazAlkemi: Amarantha, oh boy... For every four people she knows in the Young Army, three of them are dead or missing. Maybe they deserted. Maybe they participated in the riots. Either way, it's not a pleasant morning for her. She was asked to participate in the planning early in the morning with other Castle officials, in order to determine a response to the riots and ensure the streets are safe. For now, that task is over.

A messenger will have informed her all the other high ranking members of the Young Army were gone. Puck is still missing. At any rate...She's now the Field Marshal of the Young Army. Your organization is in tatters. And maybe, having a conversation with Queen Valda about next steps would be a good idea... At least they were kind enough to give you a spare room in the Castle, not too far from Lyra's.

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Arya had not gotten as much as sleep as either she - or Cuyler - would have cared for. As the Castle's ExtraOrdinary Wizard, she had risen three hours earlier in order to meet with members of the guard and other ranking officials in regards to the riots that had broke out. From what they could determine, the casualties had largely been members of the Young Army. A portion of the Ramblings had become ablaze - home to the Winking Duck Tavern - and a few had perished in the fire. Among them was beloved bartender, Jack Hudson.

"Rowland, it's like the Castle is imploding," Arya admitted quietly, taking a drink of her cup of tea. She wished Cuyler was there with her.

Rowland nodded, his tea seemingly stirring itself as lumps of sugar floated out of the tin and splashed into the cup messily. He hoped that the young ExtraOrdinary Apprentice would sleep in. He had already confirmed that all of Atkin's family and close friends had survived the violent riots from the night before, a stroke of luck given that they largely resided in the Ramblings. Of course, not everyone had been so lucky.

"Have you heard from Athelyna? She's still in the Lagoon, yes?" Arya asked, skirting the painful truth. Of Rowland's apprentices, one had perished in the rioting that evening. Peter Wylie's mother lived along the path connecting the Palace to the Ramblings. Her house had caught ablaze and Peter risked his life to save her. While Mrs. Wylie lived, Peter had not been so fortunate.

"I sent Trevor to confirm," Rowland explained, referencing his falcon. He took a weary sip of his tea. "As much as this demands our attention, there's also the matter of the Queste... I spoke with Alther and he will let us know if a Gathering is called."

Arya's stomach twisted, fearing for Atkin's safety. She had no doubt that all of these events were connected somehow - the Queen's murder, the rioting, the return of the Queste. The danger it placed Atkin in caused her to regret asking him to become her apprentice after catching him inside Wizard Tower. "You believe this all to be connected as well," Arya said. It was a statement, not a question.

She bit her lip. She had asked Thalia if she knew by what means the late Queen had died - and the Time Dragon informed her that Queen Meliscente had been aged to death. "I have my suspicions about the representatives from the Big Wild Land... Why reach out now, of all times?" Arya asked, taking another sip of tea. "Millenia of isolation and refusals of even a trading relationship with the Castle... They know something to do with Queen Meliscente's death, I am certain of it."

Rowland raised an eyebrow with a chuckle. "Do you mean to MindRead Emperor Taj?"

"...Perhaps that is what it has come to...I cannot risk the safety of the Castle for the sake of manners."

Rowland was about to say something, when he noticed a pawing at the front door and he opened it. In ran Atkin's brand new cat friends and they tore up the stairs, heading to the apprentice's bedroom and pawing at his door. Arya couldn't help but laugh as they served to cut through the tension that had been building. "He never told me he wanted a pet cat so badly..."

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Becky had remained in the infirmary with Myrus throughout the night, administering various potions and drawing heavily upon her talents in Physik. She could look out the window and see the riots throughout the Castle, the occasional building bursting with light - perhaps catching ablaze, she did not know. Her duties were to the prince and it was a good thing that Becky didn't leave him, as he ceased breathing in the middle of the night and she was barely able to revive him.

He had not yet stirred, but Becky had placed a cold compress on his head in hopes that he would soon. His eyes closed, Myrus found himself trapped in a prison of his own mind. Memories and reality were converging into one and Becky stared at his hand with awe, noticing that in real life, he had turned his sheets a soft pink glow.

"Myrus Marcellus, what are you?" Becky murmured to herself, grabbing a broom she had repurposed for just this job. She yanked the blanket off with the end of it, tossing it into the corner of the room where it promptly exploded. Wiping the sweat off of her brow in relief, Becky fetched the eleventh blanket thus far and tucked the young prince back in.

"Valda...She's going to kill you..." Myrus mumbled, still unconscious. "Golds is coming to get you..."

"No one is going to be killing anyone," Becky scolded. She then went over to Crown Princess Luna, ensuring that the young girl's temperature was no longer fluctuating wildly. Luna's message rat had returned early the previous evening, informing her that they had been unable to locate Golds and that her message would be refunded to her in store credit.

"Now you two rest up - I imagine the Queen will be expecting to have lunch with her siblings, not coffins."

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It was a relatively uneventful night for the Port Witch Coven. Some of the children had night terrors and went to the adult witches for comfort, afraid of the sounds coming from the wilderness of the Badlands and missing the comforting ocean waves. They mostly quieted down after Constance conjured up the equivalent of white noise, placing a spell on their room to give them the sounds of the Port. Of course, the older ones had different terrors - nightmares involving Wendron Witches coming to kill them, with the Palace Guard supporting their terrorism.

"Any minute now, he'll arrive," Jezebel mused at breakfast, eating a piece of fruit. Bernice had gotten them for everyone. It was one of the perks of being a witch.

There was then the sound of hooves as a rider entered the stable on a black stallion. Yet when he emerged, it wasn't the man that Jezebel had predicted - instead, it was Antonije Magnisky, the legal owner of the observatory. He loved inventions and machines, preferring to live apart from society and tinker in peace. His siblings used to sneak out and stay with him after they had been adopted by separate parents, yet that had ceased when Marya and Medea joined the Coven.

"Wow, thanks for the heads up," Antonije muttered, though most called him Tate. It was easier for them to say. "Really appreciate it, assholes." He had a soft accent, similar to Marya and Medea's, that identified him as from the Eastern SnowPlains originally. He had various strange gadgets strapped to a belt on his person and goggles obscured some of his silver blonde locks from view.

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The Hefring was Cuyler’s home not only in the open water, but when it was docked as well. It had been his father’s ship but since his death Cuyler had made some changes to it. On the deck, one of the first things the young carpenter added was a creative design of Yggdrasil, with the symbol of Valhalla carved in the center of the tree. Under the bowsprit however, was Cuyler’s calling card and whenever you saw the God of the Sea coming, you knew it was the Hefring. He had painstakingly carved out a rough design of what he imagined the God of the Sea, Aegir, to look like. Ironically, Aegir was a known Magyk user and although Cuyler feared Magyk and what it had done, he respected it; therefore, represented it on his ship in hopes of safe passage across the seas. With such love put into this ship, Cuyler found no need to build a house on land back in the Land of Lost Nights. Besides, he had no real ties to that place anymore. So when the rioting started in the Castle, this is where Cuyler sat with Thia. She sat beside her companion, in her wolf form, watching the other Traders walk up and down the docks to converse about what was going on. The firelight from the riots danced in her yellow eyes, making it look like fire was in her eyes itself.
Cuyler was already safely at the docks before the rioting started, so when the Palace guard, along with some Young Army personal, pushed all of the Northern Traders and other traders back onto the docks before locking the gates, Cuyler was busy below deck. When he heard the increase in noise and shouts, he came above to see the fire and hear the shouting and crys of people beyond the Castle walls. It was a sight to see with all the burning occuring to the right of them but the screaming seemed to come from all around. On the other side of the wall though, it was eerily quiet. The waters were still below the ships and even the Traders watched on in silence. Those from the Land of Lost Nights all had their mind on one thing. Instinctively, Cuyler looked up at the heavens and sighed.
”Halley, what have you done?” One by one the Traders boarded their own boats and fell asleep to the sounds of rioting. Cuyler went below deck but Thia stayed above, keeping on eye on everything while her companion slept.
First light came and Cuyler was already sitting on the deck of his boat. He wore the same furs he took back from Ayra when he left her the evening before. His mind drifted to her for a moment but he didn’t have time to worry for her. Even though Halvor had arrived to the Castle with his friend, the pair of them had had a friendly competition going and Cuyler was surprised to have not seen Halvor board his boat to talk. Cuyler jumped off his ship, leaving Thia fast asleep back in her Norwegian Elkhound form and went to confront the guard at the gate. When Cuyler questioned them, they didn’t even turn to acknowledge him but continued to stare into the streets and ignored him. Frustrated, Cuyler hit the gate with his fist before he turned and walked down the docks towards Halvor’s ship. Along the way he stopped and talked to other Traders to see if they had seen him. No one knew anything other than the Traders would be kept on the docks until further notice. Apparently, there was a possibility that this was started by them. Ridiculous.
Cuyler reached Halvor’s ship and found his best friend sitting there, head in his hands as he trembled from the cold. Cuyler boarded the ship and walked over to the boy who was not much older than Cuyler. It was here that Cuyler heard the sniffling and realized that the boy was not simply shivering from the cold. Fear gripped Cuyler’s heart.
”Olaf, where is Halvor?” He placed a hand on the boy’s knee as he questioned him. It didn’t take much coaxing for Olaf to tell everything that had happened last night. He spoke through tears but Cuyler heard it all. People pouring out of the Winking Duck tavern, yelling for the Queen’s head and the next thing Olaf knew, the tavern was on fire. He tried getting back in, for Halvor was still inside but people continued to run out and then the building collapsed.
“How are we supposed to bury a missing body? What do I tell his family? Do we even have a funeral? How are we supposed to have a funeral without a body?” Olaf questioned no one in particular before he burst into sobs again.
Cuyler shifted and sat beside the boy and rubbed his back while he cried. The comforting didn’t last long as a rat came scurrying aboard and stopped a foot in front of Cuyler. It questioned his identity before revealing it’s message and handed over a badge to Cuyler. He flipped the purple badge over and over in his hands.
”I will go to the tavern and see what can be found. If there is a body to bring home, I will bring him,” Cuyler told the crying boy. He rested his forehead on Olaf’s head a moment before he stood and left the ship. He gripped the badge tightly in his hand, walking down to his ship to collect Thia before returning to the gate. He shoved his hand through and tapped the guard, showing the badge but refused to let it go.
Many things flooded through Cuyler’s head. Surely if he had received this Arya was fine, but what if Rowland had been the one to send this because something had indeed happened? The fear already in Cuyler’s heart held him tighter, refusing to let go.

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After the Physik looked at Amarantha and told her she essentially would be perfectly fine come morning, she was led out of the infirmary and taken to a room to spend the night in the Palace. Apparently they didn’t want her in the same room as two royals. Pity really. Where she spent the night did not matter. Amarantha didn’t sleep much with the rioting going on outside. She was attuned to everything and even if she tried to drift, a shout or an explosion would signal her awake again. Her army was out there, her people and she had no idea who led them. Amarantha was always in the thick of it with them, she had a general idea of what everyone was doing at all times. Not to mention, Puck had not come to see her or let her know she could sleep forever because once again, he would pick up her slack. Actually, it was more alarming that Puck hadn’t come and enforced himself on her at all.
The night went by slowly and Amarantha perhaps got one solid hour of sleep; however, the little sleep did not seem to hinder her healing process. Gingerly, Amarantha stretched her broken arm to find she had full range and zero pain. She sat up and moved her leg in the same motion. It was hard pressed to ever see a smile of pure bliss on the Deputy Hunter’s face but at this moment, it filled her entire face. She jumped from the bed, ecstatic but the joy was quickly disrupted by a knock on her door and she was brought to a room with other Castle officials, including the Queen and ExtraOrdinary Wizard. She scanned the room as she sat. Puck was nowhere to been seen. It did not take Amarantha long at all to discover what had happened. So who had killed him? There was no possible way that Puck would have gone out into the riots. He would have happily stayed behind the Palace walls until the rioting stopped. So it stood to reason that her commander was now dead. The death toll continued to climb as the meeting went on but none of the numbers were concret. She listened silently, flipping one of her knives back and forth while discussions continued on how to set order to the streets. Amarantha could make no decision until she knew the official numbers of her Army. Killed or deserters, the list of possibilities went on.
With her part currently done and the Palace guard doing most of the maintenance outside, Amarantha retreated back to her rooms. She removed her knives and began throwing them at the wall. One spot for the Wizard that fell on her, that witch that threw her out the window, the Castle and for Puck. This one was considerably lower and proved more of a challenge to hit the center each time. There was another knock on the door and Amarantha swiveled and threw the knife at the door. It hit hard, sticking in well. Frowning because it hit a fraction off center to where she had been aiming, Amarantha walked to the door and opened it to find a messenger. They did not bring good news. One of the medics was there to reveal some information about their numbers but Amarantha hesitated. Why come to her? It only confirmed that Puck was dead. Now she was in a position of power and although most of the Young Army did look up to her and follow her instruction, she worried what this would mean for the presence of the Young Army in the Castle. She walked down the hallway, to the front entrance and met a medic from the Young Army. The numbers weren’t good. They had been cleaning up bodies all night, many of them faces of the Young Army. From what they could gather of those unaccounted for, 60% had been killed, 34% fled to the Port or the Forest and 6% tried to pass themselves off as orphans.
”Return to the caravan, I will be along shortly,” Amarantha instructed before she turned back around and headed into the Palace.
Being in the Palace has its advantages. Running water being one. The water here had been enchanted to run and there seemed to be an endless supply, a luxury Amarantha was going to take full advantage of. Yes, perhaps there were more pressing matters but Amarantha was not going to let the opportunity pass her by. As she approached her room, she noticed a familiar shape a few doors down. Asha the Magykal. Perhaps she could gather some insight on the death of her commander.
”Asha, may I trouble you a moment?”

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Luna was grateful for the help, as she was escorted by Atkin to the Castle's infirmary, seeing her brother there made her worry about him quiet a bit. As Luna was tended to she eventually started to get very tired, and the voice continued to rattle off in her head which made her think that her mental state was becoming worse as well. The last thing she did was send a messenger rat to Golds, she waited for awhile, her eyes wondering over seeing the various flames go on around the castle itself as the riots started. Eventually the young princess felt her eyes getting very heavy and eventually she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

She was woken up briefly when the messenger rat returned, and that he wasn't able to be found, she started to think the worse that maybe the riots ended up killing him, or her. Eventually Luna fell asleep once more in the bed, however her sleep was very restless for her, various dreams and images in her head would come up after being taken by the witches. And everything else that happened in the room that she was held in.

When she came to once more it was the next day as her eyes wondered over towards the window seeing the last bits of smoke around the castle, as her eyes watched Becky tending to her brother. Luna listened to her brother as he spoke, and couldn't help but wonder if it was the witches who took her wanted to kill Valda as well. And the last bit of Golds as well made her second guess who the person actually was.

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It had been a long night for Lyra in more ways than one, and she had hoped that once sleep finally took her it would erase the pain and guilt of failure. Well, it hadn't. As her eyes fluttered open in the early morning hours, for one second, one precious second, she forgot, but as her gaze landed on the spot where the Young Army Commander Gwydion Puck had died, it all flooded back to her. Sure, he hadn't been an honorable man, using children for soldiers certainly disqualified him of that role. Nevertheless, no one person had the right to decide who lived and who died. Puck at the least deserved a fair trial, not an execution. Not to mention the fact that he had been appointed into a position of authority by Queen Valda. By default, that meant she was suppose to protect him, and she had failed miserably at that. It made her feel as if she was ill fit for the title of knight. But, perhaps not even all this was what truly upset. No, what upset her the most was that a small part of her had felt that justice had been served, that the murder was justified and even--satisfying. What had she become if she thought, even if for a fleeting second, that senseless violence was the way to attain peace? The notion truly sickened her.

She took in a shuttering breath, before rolling over in bed to stare blankly at the ceiling. In retrospect, her only saving grace from the trauma of last night had been Asha. That woman was truly something else entirely. She would like to think that there was something between them, something more than a friendship, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking. Then again, Asha had stayed behind to comfort her and had even offered to spend the night with her, to which the usually so composed Lyra had been reduced to a blubbering idiot. She let out a groan and covered her eyes with her arm as if that could shield her from that embarassing memory. She was never going to live that down, was she? Probably not. After a few moments of just lying there, she eventually sat up in bed, throwing the covers off of her and swinging her legs over to where they dangled off of the edge of the bed. She absentmindedly ran a hand through the knots in her platnium blonde hair as she looked around her room bleary-eyed. Her gaze eventually gravitated back to that spot marred by death. Puck's ashes had since been removed from the room, but she knew that the memories of that night would last a lifetime.

With a sigh, she finally got up and readied herself for the day. Honestly, she wasn't looking forward to it. Puck's disappearance would be noticed, and she knew that no matter how much it would suck she had to report what happened. It was the right thing to do. It would be difficult, but since when was the right thing always the easiest thing to do? As she got herself ready, her mind went back to the shapeshifter family. They had gotten away scot-free, which was yet another blow against Lyra, the so-called knight in shining armor. She rolled her eyes at herself. She most certainly seemed to be wallowing in self pity. As she mentally went over the details of the previous night, something Thalia had said in passing before leaving stuck out. She had stated that Prince Myrus had a variation in his genetic code, which gave him minor control over kinetic energy charging, whatever that meant. She hadn't given her any other details a part from stating that this newfound ability was not life threatening as long as Myrus didn't try to bottle it up. She pursed her lips, not really knowing what to think about that little tidbit.

Just then, there was a knock on her door followed by the voice of none other than Asha the Magykal. She about threw her brush across her room in sudden excitement. Geez, girl. Get a grip, she thought, shaking her head at herself. She took a calming breath before smoothing out the fabric of her dress and walking over to the door. Opening the door, she gave Asha a warm smile. "Morning," she greeted chipperly. However, her face quickly fell and even paled slightly as she saw who else had just walked up: the Deputy Hunter Amarantha.

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Atkin could see the riots from the top of the Wizard Tower quite easily, the flames were rather difficult to miss as they burned throughout the night. Today really had been an absolutely atrocious day. Probably the worst day in Castle history for at least a few centuries. Certainly ranked up there for worst days of his life. He couldn't even get to sleep, any time he tried he'd think about Bryon or Pa trying to maintain order out there, or Shay getting caught up in the midst of all, or worst of all: his own home being broken into and ransacked. However, as liable as he was to mouth off, disobey orders or just go out the learn something himself, he wasn't so big of a knobhead that he'd go out into the streets during a riot. Only a body with a death wish would do something like that. For the fifth time that day all he could do was stand back and watch as bad shit happened.

By the time morning came, his eyes were sore, but he didn't feel tired. At least not any more. He didn't really feel hungry either. Or really doing too much of anything other than pacing around the tower, trying to keep himself occupied on anything other than the chaos the Castle had sunk into over the last 24 hours. The Queste and its associated bullshit were chump change. He wasn't too concerned about that. Worst came to worst, only he'd have to bite the bullet. The apparent fragility of the Royal family had far more severe ramifications for the country, and the immediate break in good will between the people and the crown would be difficult to mend, at best.

But then there was a noise at the door. It was rather muffled, so he couldn't quite make it out at first. Meowing? Atkin stopped where he was and turned around to the door. He checked the peephole. He didn't see anyone there, but the sound was still there, and growing louder. So he opened the door a wee bit. And then suddenly it was flung open as he was assaulted with a tidal wave of fur. It took him a few seconds to realize that there were cats all rubbing against him, purring, and trying to muscle their way in to get to him. And they were all so cute. He couldn't stop himself from kneeling down and trying to pet them. He'd get a calico under the chin, follow it up by scratching a black cat on the butt, before diverting his attention to a particularly portly Persian. There were just so many kitties, he couldn't handle them all.

By the time Rowland or Arya went up to check on the apprentice, they'd find the door still wide open and Atkin sitting on his bed surrounded by cats, petting a relatively beefy tabby that sat in his lap. They were everywhere: on the floors, the tables, in the dresser, everywhere. Miraculously, not a single book or pen had been knocked over. He turned to face his teacher and grandmaster, still smiling, although a less so now that his attention had been drawn away from all the cats and back to the present situation.

"I couldn't stop them."