---

Valeri had wondered the halls of the palace for a long time, trying to familiarize herself with the halls and rooms, but to no great amount of luck. No very interesting had come along either, much to her dissatisfaction. It was a maze to her, and as smart as she was, Valeri was only have concentrating on her surroundings. The Princess tended to daydream quite frequently. Whether about her next schemes, politics, or other activities, her head was always busy. She had long ago dismissed her guards, but the men instead chose to follow her at a respectable distance, occasionally chatting with her maids. She supposed happiness came in all forms, but where would her happiness come from this day? Or rather, as she felt the crack of lightning and listened to the rain, the night?

She stopped, beckoning her guards and maids to come to her. "My lovelies, take me to my room." came her aloof voice. And so her command was headed, she tried to be nice to those that served her, she found it gave them less of a reason for betrayal. One could never be too careful though.

She at last came to her room, and was welcomed by an assortment of food, drink, clothing, and more handmaidens.

As her garments were stripped, and a bath was waiting, she asked, "Has the food and drink been tested? One can never be too careful on foreign grounds."

The oldest handmaiden, a woman in her late thirties whose name was Sia, responded, "Yes my princess, all has been tested and all is as it should be. Food and drink, no poison."

As her lithe body waded into the warm water, Valeri smiled. "Very good Sia, leave a few dears and you may retire with the rest."

Sia bowed, while thanking the Princess. Everyone but three maids, and herself remained. Two were busy arranging the small table with food, and the other was preparing her sleeping attire. Feeling very comfortable, Valeri settled down into the water, letting the pleasant aromas waft around her. She was content in that moment.

---

After having finished her bath, eaten some spicy Exodus food, and drinking herself tipsy, Valeri looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was no longer in a bun, now resting down at her back, very curvy and white. She twirled a finger through it, as she gazed at her outfit. It was a simple beige robe that fit her, yet it was made from some material that made it practically see through. She quite liked it in all honesty, even if it was a bit modest. But her in current state, she found herself not really caring. Her black lipstick had washed away in the bath, revealing two pink lips. She blew a kiss to the mirror and giggled.

Two of the maids had left her after dinner, leaving only one to stand outside in case she needed anything. She knew the maid would be alright, two guards would keep watch of the door in the night, but how unfortunate that was. Valeri began to pace, she was full of energy and not really tired in the slightest. She looked around the room, trying to find something to do, but gave up in frustration. Perhaps a walk would do her good? It might make her tired.

She walked to the door, and opened it, only to find one guard, the other one gone and so was her maiden. The guard looked at her, his face going red.

"I-I, U-uh Princess! Uh, thought you would be asleep by now, your grace."

Valeri giggled, "You're a silly little guard." she said while opening walking onto into the hallway. "Now! Where the other two!" she asked in a sing-song tone.

The guard, try as hard as he might, kept glancing at the Princess' figure, and stammered more.

"P-princess t-they, w-went off to, well uh.." he began to shift uncomfortably as his voice fell quiet. The poor man's face, even for an Andorian, was a shade of pink. Embarrassment! Valeri read the situation. One guard here, and the other two, a man and woman, off somewhere else. She could only imagine what they were doing.

She laughed then, "Oh you poor thing! How mean of them to leave you all by your lonesome. Hmmm." She thought for a moment before exclaiming, "Ah! Did I not see how you talked to Elise earlier? Do not be lonely on this stormy night my dear, go. Go talk to her!"

"B-But Princess wh-"

"Do not worry about me, little guard. No one would dare harm a royal such as I. Now go, it will be our little secret! If anyone asks, just tell them I dismissed you to enjoy the night."

"I... Thank you, your grace." And with that, the man began to jog away. Well, he was obviously excited, and who could blame him?

Valeri then walked down the hallways, stopping every now and then to gaze outside at the storm. The cool wind licking her face was enough to send her back inside though. Refreshing as it was, she was hardly wearing anything to stay warm. She only met a few Exodus guards on patrols as she walked, and they gave her mixed reactions, which greatly amused the Princess.

After what felt like forever, Valeri finally found herself in a new area of the palace. A study of some sort, full to the brim with tables, books, and soft chairs. She enjoyed reading occasionally, but most books escaped her grasp of meaning, especially old tomes from before. They were hard to read, much less understand.

She browsed loosely, not really paying anything to mind. She hummed a small tune as she went from book shelf to book shelf. She walked over to another bookshelf and much to her surprise, she gazed at Amaya. Even without all of her jewelry and fine dress, even without makeup, it would have been foolish to think it was anyone else. She wore such an elegant little gown, and her hair! It was so long.

She leaned against the bookshelf and spoke after a moment with a large, genuine smile, "Well, I must say, I did not think I would find anyone out at this time, much less you Princess Amaya."

Aziza left the king, tiny bottle carefully tucked away in one of her secret pockets. Her heart was beating faster, her hands tremble from excitement, but she stopped and calmed herself with a few deep breaths. As thrilled as she was to finally get some action, she could not let that influence her work. There could be no mistakes from now on, this was finally an important task for her, perhaps the most important one in her life so far.

The hallways were filled with people, the festival guests were searching for their rooms, or standing around chatting, discussing the tournament. For this brief moment the servants stopped being invisible – none of the nobles wanted to spend their time wandering aimlessly through the palace in search for their chamber. And why would they, when there were dozens of people ready to fulfil every single one of their whims. Aziza had to hide an impatient frown when a man stopped her and demanded to be guided to his room. A thought of killing him creeped into her mind, dangerously tempting, but she shook it away. He was drunk, and it would take no effort to shove a blade into him, but a discovery of another body might take the attention off the events the king had planned.

She helped him into his room and disappeared into the kitchen before anyone else could stop her. At least the short detour gave her time to think about her plan. First item on the list was finding the Exodus soldier, who struck the bodyguard of princess Evangeline. She needed to identify him and get him somewhere isolated, but without anyone noticing him leaving with a woman – the king demanded that it would look like he was trying to escape. The fact that the Earthicans were supposed to be blamed for his death also limited the choices of a murder weapon – it could not be a knife or a spear, but rather an axe or a sword, or maybe even a bow. Aziza had a small crossbow, but that was too unusual weapon for such task and the arrows were too short to be mistaken for the normal bow arrows. Sword it was then.

With that thought, she snuck out of the kitchen and headed to the armory of the arena. As she expected, some of the weapons were still stored there, their owners being either in the infirmary or relaxing in the spa. The spear with the decoration was one of these weapons, such luck. Aziza quickly scribbled a short note on a piece of paper, attaching it to the spear handle so that only the owner would notice it. One of the shorter Earthican swords disappeared under her gown and then she turned back to the palace.

---

Few hours later she was hidden on a beam under the stable roof, almost invisible in her black leather attire, fingers tightly wrapped around the hilt of the stolen sword. Her heart was beating slowly, no sign of nervousness or excitement, just a perfect predator waiting for her prey. Of course there was a chance that her plan wouldn’t work, that the soldier would just ignore her note or even show it to someone, but she instinctively knew that it was the right thing to do. The warrior was just a boy, no doubt excited about being able to join the royal guard and not wanting to tell anyone about his inability to follow the tournament rules. The Earthican warriors probably scared the hell out of him, their fierceness and recklessness in a fight going beyond the expectations. Him coming here was the only logical solution to his situation.
One of the horses nickered quietly as the palace back door opened, briefly illuminating the stable and showing a shadow of a man who quickly entered and closed the door behind him. Aziza looked away from the light, to keep her eyes adjusted to the dark. The man coming from a brightly-lit hallway into nearly complete darkness fumbled around, trying not to hit anything. “Hey!” he whispered. “Are you here?”

Aziza quietly jumped down in front one of the occupied boxes. “Over here,” she replied quietly, changing her voice that in nearly sounded as a male one. She wouldn’t have to, but it will be better not to raise suspicion now. The man made a few careful steps, still not being able to see much. “Come here,” she whispered to guide him into right position just at the entrance to the box. The horse inside was saddled and there were some coins and supplies for long travel prepared in the saddlebags. ‘Make it look like he was running away,’ her king said and so she did.

The man stumbled and nearly fell down, stopping right beside her, squinting at the horse. “I don’t…” he started, but never got a chance to finish his sentence. Aziza snuck behind him, one hand covering his mouth, muffling the desperate sounds, and the other shoving a sword right into his back. She held him for a few seconds, just until he stopped squirming and then carefully laid the body on the ground next to the horse, who was looking at her completely uninterested. The sword remained in the corpse, although it would be nice to plant it in someone’s chambers, running around the palace with a bloody weapon was probably not a good idea. Plus, she had another job to do.

Solveig sang loudly, with fellow Earthican's next to him, in a very busy and loud Exodus tavern. They sang many tunes, their boisterous display being eyed by many different people, some even joining in. They drank and drank Exodus beer, and even though it tasted like piss, it was the only thing that could be afforded in quantity, and that little group was surrounded by empty glasses. Next to the bear of a man were other fighters who had been eliminated from the tournament, but it didn't phase them, for Earthica had won!

The large man stood up, laughing as he almost tripped. With a glass in his hand, he shouted, "For Ultfic!" he tilted back his head and chugged the beer down in one sitting, "At least one of us can fight!" he proclaimed, and the Earthican's in the tavern erupted into a chorus of laughter and mirth. Solveig sat back down, grabbing another beer to drink slowly. His little bout in the arena had not gone as planned, but at least his friend had won. It was all good fun the tournament, but he had been eliminated quiet early by a couple of Primfira's with lances. Despite his brute strength and power, they had tired him out and finished him. The man smirked however, he could have won if it was for real, but there was no need to loose himself in a frenzy over a game. So he took it like anyone could, and left with his head held high.

He hadn't needed any medical attention, but instead chose to nurse his pride with beer, so he gathered the other fighters who weren't seriously hurt and hunted for a tavern. He would congratulate Ultfic in the morning, he imagined his friend was very busy being a champion and all. He would also find out what happened with Laurel, for he had heard some strange rumors about fighting with a Luthran. Other then that, his day had been most uneventful besides the tournament, and he had missed the grand party or whatever it was, not that he cared! Bunch of politicians and royalty had a way of ruining fun.

He was deep in a beer when a man ran in screaming, his face contorted in fear. The room died down as people helped him sit down, someone even shoved a beer in his hand and he spoke in a haunting voice. He told of a creature, something large and terrifying, ripping through guards down in the lower city. He had been outside to piss when he heard the shouting and screaming, and when he looked, well he broke into sobs then.

This sounded like a challenge, perhaps another opportunity to show off prowess of the Earthicans! Without even waiting to discuss what to do, he grabbed Bloodforge and shouted for his men to follow. Though he was slightly intoxicated, he almost slipped on the wet stones then, he was a bit trashed honestly, but his duty demanded that he check out if the man's tale was true.

Adrenaline began to pump into Solveig, as he heard men screaming. They were deep in Exodus now, close to the outer wall. They rounded corners and ran through streets, the shouting and blood curdling screams getting closer. They began to see Exodus guards running in the direction they were coming from, some bloodied and others so frightened that they dared not stop to talk. The only few words they could get out was, 'monster' and 'voice stealer' but Solveig shrugged it off, whatever it was couldn't be too terrible. Right?

His little group at last rounded the final corner, coming face to face with a creature he could only describe as a demon bear. The ones he heard stories about as a child. It's skull was coated in wet blood and viscera, as well as it's fur. Multiple cuts and arrows stuck out from its hide, a thick red blood poured from its wounds. The ground was littered with bodies, limps, and more blood. It was a gruesome display of violence, and he could hear several of his men vomiting at the sight. He fought the very same urge to do so. The Exodus guards still standing were not doing well, and as one slipped upon the water mixed blood, the man was mauled. There was no more time for waiting!

"Come men! For glory!" and he charged at the bear, Bloodforge held high. About halfway there, the bear snapped to look at their direction, letting open it's mouth to roar. Solveig, ran to meet the enemy, the bear charged him but Solveig sidestepped the beast, then plunged his ax into it's mighty flesh, upon the right shoulder. The bear opened it's mouth to roar again, but this time the thing screamed like a man, a desperate final wail he had heard before. This made Solveig pause, fear gripping his heart, but the bear stood suddenly, forcing Solveig to let go of his ax. He tried to roll away from the bear, but he was too slow, and he felt a mighty paw smack him on his right side. Bone crunched, giving away at the force of the blow. He felt his body fly for a few seconds, then land with a terrible splash in puddle of blood and water.

He desperately tried to breath, but his body was in shock. He could only gasp for air, each moment seemed to last a lifetime. Then he breathed, quick gulps of air. He groaned, looking down at his body where there was a large gash, his own blood now mixing with those that had come before. He also knew that a couple of his ribs had broken. Solveig's troubles were far from over, as one of his men screamed for help, and he turned to look just in time to see the man get his face caved in by a paw. He had tripped on a corpse. Solveig cursed, getting up slowly. Another Earthican fell, his throat being ripped out. He watched, as the man grabbed his throat, squirming on the ground, trying to breath. Solveig did not have time to watch him die, he couldn't look.

He shouted at the others, "Get away from it! We need range!" But his voice fell on deaf ears as an Exodus man was thrown to the side. It was killing so indiscriminately, caring not who it ended. At the sight of another Earthican dead, Solveig broke into a rage, grabbing a fallen spear, the Bear of Fortunheim, would not let it kill another soul! He began to jog, pain ripping through his side, but as his rage set in, the pain was only a reminder of that the foe had done to him. The giant man, soaked with rain and blood, ran at the bear.

He screamed at it, and the bear turned around only to meet a spear tip, stabbing right into it's head. The bear wailed horribly, flailing about before it fell slowly and moved no more. Solveig breathed a sigh of relief, removing the spear with a sickening sound and then put his right foot on the creatures head. He then held his spear high above his head. Exodus and Earthican alike began to cheer. The bear was dead, it's terror over! He had won his pride back! Oh this was going to put Ultfic to sha-

Lightning flashed, and the bear jolted awake, biting down upon his left leg. Solveig fell backwards, hitting his head upon the stone. He lost the spear as the men's shouts turned to yells of horror. The beast had him, it would not let go now. It bit down further and Solveig screamed. As men began to pelt it with arrows and spears, the bear let go of Solveig's leg, and for a brief moment the entire world seemed to calm down.

He looked at the bear, and the bear looked at him.

The bear then lunged for his neck, tearing it open with one painful bite. He gurgled blood, flailing about while clutching his neck. The world began to go dark, his vision failing. The last thing he heard, was his own screams.

Thyrri just rolled her eyes when she saw that her advice will probably be completely ignored. Dalious and Mahita were giving sidelooks to each other, smiling and winking. “All right you two, I will be going. Just don’t die, please,” she said to the Luthran and headed out of the house.

To her surprise it had started to rain, tiny drops falling on the ground and rooftops. The streets were nearly deserted, the light downpour sent everyone either home, or to continue their celebration in one of the many taverns. Thyrri frowned as she stepped into a puddle – normally she wouldn’t mind a bit of rain, but this looked like she will be soaked wet and trembling with cold before she gets back to the palace. There was an option to go back to Mahita’s house, she could always sleep there, but the walls were a bit too thin there to be able to get some rest.

Sigh escaped her lips, as she ventured the main avenue, the palace walls still far in the distance. She walked fast, not giving any attention to her surroundings, just watching the ground so she wouldn’t slip on some muddy patch. At first, she didn’t notice the distant screams, her brain dismissing them as unimportant part of the tournament celebrations. But when she nearly got knocked out of the street by a bunch of guards rushing towards them, she finally realized something is not quite right. Those weren’t screams men would give out when fighting in front of a tavern, but rather screams of pure horror and incredible pain. She stopped to think what she should do. The palace was so close, its warm hallways ready to welcome her, dry clothes ready in her bedroom, warm drinks available in the kitchen. She was already shivering, not a single spot of her body and clothes dry anymore. But what if someone there needed her help? Another tortured scream pulled her out of her thoughts and she started running towards the noise, following the group of Exodus warriors.

She slipped while taking a turn, ending in the dirty water on the ground, not even noticing what happened as she stared on the street in front of her. It was a scene like from the worst nightmare, blood everywhere, injured men yelling, screaming and begging for help, trying to crawl away. And in the middle of it, a creature from the deepest place in hell, swiping its sharp claws at the men around, throwing them away like dolls. And blood. Blood everywhere, turning the rain puddles red, splashing on the houses around, creating abstract paintings.

Thyrri was lying on her side, eyes and mouth wide open, completely petrified. There was a tiny voice in her head that told her she should get up and help the wounded, but it was quiet and unconvincing, compared to the urge to run to her bed and pull the sheets over her head like she did when she was a little girl. Something touched her hand and she screamed out and jumped up, nearly falling again as she stepped on her dress. When she looked down, she saw an Exodus soldier, still a young boy, looking at her, begging for help quietly. Thyrri moved to help him, but then she saw the huge cut on his abdomen and his entrails stretched out like some horrifying snake, maybe three or four feet behind him. She shook her head in shock and stepped away, shaking and mumbling some indifferent words, maybe prayers, maybe begging for help, maybe just repeating ‘no, no, no’ over and over. The man on the ground gave her a desperate look and used his hands to pull himself to her. She could see how his innards got stuck on some stone sticking out of the street and the whole bloody chain stretched more and more, before finally ripping in half. They both let out a tortured scream, Thyrri just sobbed and took a step back and the man extended his arms towards her, a silent ‘please’ formed on his lips before he finally died.

Thyrri didn’t even notice that the boy was not alive anymore, she just continued to back away from him, terrified that he would move again and ask her for help which she should have given to him. As her eyes were glued to the guard on the ground, she didn’t realize that she was in fact moving towards the monster in street, in her panicked state she just wanted to get away from his accusing look. Suddenly something big flew towards her, knocking her against a wall. When she opened her eyes, she saw another Exodus guard lying next to her, covering her from another attack. Sobbing, she mumbled thank you and moved so she could look into his face. It took her a few seconds to realize, that there in fact was no face, that the man’s head had been brutally ripped off and his body tossed away like a broken doll. She screamed, trying to push herself away, but the weight of the dead body prevented her from moving. Her conscious mind finally gave up and she just curled next to the dead soldier, her eyes closed tight, her hands covering her ears, sobbing and trying to imagine that this was all a very bad dream, that she was in her bed, hidden under covers so the monsters could never get to her, and her dad will come and chase them all away like he always did.

The night was quiet and the rain beat a soothing rhythm on the eaves as it drenched the streets below. The inn was still and peaceful, those within sleeping deeply from too much food and drink. Yet, not all were so oblivious.

In one of the upper rooms there sat three pairs of watchful eyes. While some slept, others kept vigil. Such caution might seem excessive to those accustomed to the safety of walls and soldiers. But, these were commoners. They had little to protect them from the terrors of the night but each other and the scant defenses of their villages. Their caution was a hard won prize of terrors past. Tonight, it proved a valuable prize indeed.

The first sounds of death were enough to draw those watching eyes. They sought the source from the relative safety of their dark room. As battle was joined and the beast came into view the three pairs of eyes became six as their companions joined them at the window. It would be a good chance to see the warriors of Exodus at work. But, the beast survived, survived, and continued killing. It took wounds and did not slow or seem to be weakening.

“I’ve hunted beasts like this. They should have killed it by now…” The voice of that same older man was a whisper, barely audible to those beside him.

“Something’s wrong. It’s… different than the others.” The younger man replied as his hands found his bow and sheaf, stringing the bow and checking its tension and bindings.

Then the two fell silent as a small group of Earthican warriors charged into the fray, waving their weapons with abandon. Yet, instead of relief and confidence, their charge brought only fear and weakness to the men in the upper room. Solveig was not unknown to them. Before his death, several of the men in the room had been getting their weapons ready to join the fight by his side. In the brief quiet that followed his death, those weapons fell from suddenly worthless fingers.

Through this, all that the young man and his father did was watch and prepare. The older man checked his axe and gathered a shield from his pack. The younger one loosened his blades in their scabbards and checked his bow one more time. The arrival of the Primfiran soldiers and their King was a surprise to them, but while those who had dropped their weapons in fear began to grumble bitterly against the cockroaches for coming so late to steal the glory the young man stood from his perch and stepped out the window onto the heavy wooden overhang that kept the rain from the room below.

“Klase!” The old man’s harsh whisper carried farther than he had intended in his surprise. “Don’t get yourself killed!”

Klase raised his bow and pulled a heavy arrow with a strong tip from his quiver. “I won’t. I was trained by Telt, retired captain of the guard. I know how to survive.” He knocked the arrow and drew it back to his ear as he lined up the shot.

“I’m going below to lend my shield.” Telt said, rising from his place to go downstairs and use the door, like a civilized old man. The other men voiced protests against fighting alongside ‘Primferan cowards’. Telt only responded with a ‘harumph’ as he brushed past them and walked quickly and quietly through the inn and out the front door. He made little noise as he moved into a space between two of the Primferan soldiers. He kept pace with them, neither charging nor retreating. Yet, whenever the beast’s claws seemed likely to break the formation he placed his shield in the path and deflected the strike before dodging back behind the fence of spears. He was one who knew the value of surviving a battle, but more than that, he also knew that a beast didn’t care if its foe was honorable or not. Beasts didn’t need killing by soldiers. They needed killing by hunters.

A few moments after Telt joined the fray the first arrow found its mark, driving deeply into the body of the beast. Yet, it seemed to stop too soon. The beast stretched and struck again at the offending spears and the arrow within its body snapped… twice. Klase heard that sound as it carried well and far through the organized chaos below him. “Twin-bone…” He muttered as his eyes narrowed and he readied another arrow. This time, he aimed for the knees, the hips, the shoulders, the elbows, the neck. Arrow after arrow cut through the rain with far more power than normal for a bow. Their impacts sounded like distant thunder as they audibly cracked bones. But, time after time, the sound of the shafts breaking inside the wound echoed the impact as the twin skeletons of the beast shifted around each other, levering against its muscles to snap the stout wood.

The pain of its wounds was starting to show and the beast’s movements finally seemed to slow. It was taking its time now, listening for openings and trying to lure the soldiers in closer. It was clever, for a beast, but its vision was too poor for it to find where these painful strikes were coming from. The missiles cast by the Primferans were successful in confusing it but they hadn’t been biting deep enough to strike anything important. Against a normal beast of this kind, the Primferan King’s strategy would have already proven lethal.

Klase dropped his bow back inside the room along with his empty quiver and softly jumped the six feet to the ground, landing as softly as a man his size could. His piercing gaze marked the location of every man and corpse in view as well as the beast itself as he began to make his way along the faces of the buildings, keeping quiet and maintaining a watchful eye on the Primferan King as well as the movements of the battle. He moved softly and carefully, avoiding the wounded and the dead alike, until he reached a place where he was downwind of the beast. Here he stopped and drew his swords as quietly as he could. The flash of a distant lightning bolt reflected off his glacial eyes and cold steel alike. He was ready to kill and cautious but neither eager, nor afraid.

Klase and Telt shared a glance and a muted nod. Telt knew what his son needed from him. He spoke to the men around him and to their king without turning his eyes from the beast.

“Hold or give way but keep its eyes here!”

With that he began striking his weapon against his shield and singing an old and bawdy warrior’s drinking song to the rhythm of the blows. The beast became agitated at the noise and lunged at the line in that place again and again. The spears kept it at bay but several of them broke from its confused swipes. Yet, the soldiers held their nerve and did not break. The presence of their King clearly bolstered their morale. During this cacophony, Klase used the distraction to close the distance until he was just close enough.

The lightning shone off of the axe that still remained in the beast’s shoulder. Then he struck. Lunging forward, he coiled his body tightly into as small a space as he could by the beast’s right side while he used a hooking thrust to stab his short sword into the beast’ left leg from behind. He had not underestimated the beast’s reaction.

It spun instantly, swinging both forepaws in a powerful swipe that would have sent Klase flying. But, he was crouched so low that the blows missed him by inches. For a brief moment, the beast’s forelimbs were extended to its far side and its head was extended, seeking the new threat. Klase suddenly uncoiled his body in an explosive surge of power, sweeping his sword in an upward arc with enough force to carry his own body a foot off the ground. His blade stopped just before contacting the muddy street. It had flashed through its arc as though it had struck nothing at all. Yet, a moment of stillness followed that strike.

Then the beast’s head fell free from its body to splash into the mud. Its body lingered upright for a moment before joining it with a great splash of mud and blood as its own veins emptied their contents to complete the staining of the ground. Klase stood where he was. The splash had covered his back and his left side in filth. His victory was clear. Yet, he did not cheer or shout out his triumph.

He simply straightened his posture and began to check the fallen for life, sparing a moment for a brief nod of respect to the soldiers of Primfera and a short bow to their King whose experience and strategy had made his maneuver possible. Telt, however, stepped toward the kill to retrieve the axe from its shoulder and the other weapons that the fallen Earthican men had wielded. They would be sent back with their bodies, if it could be safely done. Then he signaled to the inn for the others to come down and do what they must for the fallen. And wounded.

The fighting was over. The real work was next.

---

---

MENTIONS:@Haeo

---

Curious eyes would rise from the literature that enthralled them, a puckish smirk forming in response. Aamaya would lift a dainty hand, brushing a strand of silky hair behind her ear. "Princess Valeri, what a pleasure it is to see you here.. Couldn't sleep?" The woman would tilt her head slightly, openly allowing her eyes to sweep over the other woman's figure. It was no lie that Andorian women were unique in appearance, beautiful nonetheless. "I love literature, makes you smarter, exercises the brain."

Valeri beamed a pearly smile, tilting her head as Aamaya spoke. When she finished speaking, Valeri chuckled, "It's far too early for sleep."

She wasted no time in getting closer to the Princess, walking curtly to face the bookshelf right next to Aamaya, reading over a few book titles and stroking their covers, while she pondered what to say. She spoke after a moment, her voice soft, "I have... Well, a lot of energy at night. I find the day to day curriculum of royalty somewhat tedious anymore. I know what I'm doing, yet I still have to do certain tasks that are to my station, as I am sure you are most aware Princess. So, I guess I don't do a lot during the day that one would consider physically exerting. I should be tired after today's events, but I'll sleep later, after... other activities." Valeri paused with a sly smile. She was being very open with Aamaya, for some reason or another, probably due to the wine she had earlier.

Valeri then turned her gaze away from the bookshelf, having found a far more interesting story then what books could offer, and looked at Aamaya. "I never seem to read enough anymore... Being whisked away to far places, reading a poets favorite work, even old literature! It can be relaxing to let the mind wander. Though I do find old works to be a bit difficult to understand, though rewarding once cracked." Valeri shifted, as she gazed at Aamaya longingly, her eyes admiring every bit of the girl's features. The Freya people really were beautiful up close, and when not so... burdened with accessories. The things she would d-

She stopped herself, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. Valeri quickly said, "Oh look at me, being so informal. Forgive me, Princess Aamaya, I can drone on and on. I see that I've interrupted your reading, I should go." Would her little display work, she wondered. There was a fine subtlety between being too straight forward, and not trying hard enough but Valeri was optimistic of the night, especially when alone with potential partners.

Aamaya giggled, placing her fingers against her lips to silence the laughter. "Oh no, you don't have to leave. You aren't bothering me love." The woman blinked slowly, placing the book she held on a nearby shelf, sauntering off towards the elegant couch placed in the middle of the room. Swiftly moving to sit, her hand would pat the space beside her, a welcoming smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Sit." Aamaya placed both of her hands behind her neck, raking her fingers through the abundance of hair. "So, how has life as a Princess been treating you Valeri? Does your mother and father expect you to wed as well? Is that your plan during the festival?"

Valeri eye's lit up at Aamaya's words, followed by a wide grin. She watched Aamaya walk to the couch in silence. Valeri liked the girl's tone, it was both commanding and gushing with formality. The kind you only find with those who were meant to be royalty. The tall pale girl then responded to Aamaya's summons, meandering over, and sitting upon the cushion next to her. She crossed her long slender legs, and turned her body to face Aamaya. Her clothing would be practically see through at this point, though Valeri did not care in the slightest. She then placed both of her hands atop each other, on her left knee, pondering the question asked. It was a good one, but also difficult to answer.

She spoke after a moment of silence, "I've only ever known this one life honestly, as I am sure you can attest. It has its low points, and high points. I can't say it's all bad, but it does get boring. I don't think I would trade it for anything else though, but a part of me always wonders what my life might be if I were... someone else." She finished with a soft smile. Now for the harder part.

"I'm not entirely sure what my plan is..." Valeri said somberly, "My Father can be... difficult to talk to most days. I don't think I'll be getting married though. Between you and me, there aren't that many handsome bachelors, but the ladies... Now, I wouldn't be against taking one of their hands." She finished with a light laugh. Valeri then went quiet, shifting her legs and arms around, thinking for the first time that she had no idea what her Father wanted from her at the Festival, it would just be another topic for tomorrow, if they talked. She gazed off into the distance, thinking about her Mother. She had avoided saying anything about her, the memories it brought were still painful.

She turned back to Aamaya with a sad smile, "How about you Princess? You must be feeling a hundred different things no doubt. I can only imagine what it would be like in your shoes."

The woman listened carefully to Valeri, nodding when it was required, glancing towards the rows of shelves adorned with books. "Oh I must agree, the ladies attending are rather... intriguing, exotic, much different from my own people." Aamaya smiled brightly, fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the tassels decorating the throw pillow beside her. "It has been, stressful, but I have been handling it well. I am unsure of my plans as of now however." Her eyes of varying tones would shift to stare at the bandage wrapped snugly around her hand, a soft exhale following. Further concern would be interrupted by the sound of shrieking, just barely making its way through the pattering of rain. Aamaya stood quickly, moving out of the study and towards the palace's entrance, a wary look settling on her features. She was however, stopped by a group of guards, insisting she stay inside due to the palace being on lock-down. They explained the beast that was outside and Aamaya's wary expression would shift to that of dread. "Princess Valeri, I must see what has happened. The guards say I shouldn't because it is a horrific sight, but the beast is dead.

Without further explaining, Aamaya draped a long, decorative shawl-wrap over her nightgown, slipping flats onto her feet before being escorted outdoors. The rain hit her skin immediately, but she ignored the downpour, marching with confidence towards the mess of men. The guards made way for her, giving her a view of the dead beast, beheaded and covered in blood. Her expression remained blank, unwavering, glancing around the scene before her. There were mutilated men everywhere, blood painted buildings, entrails littered the street. It was horrid, but Aamaya would not show her discomfort. Instead, she rose her head proudly, insisting the man who killed the beast be brought to the palace once he cleaned himself up. Nothing more was said, more guards were ordered to bring the wounded in, healers instructed to help who they could. Aamaya found her way back in the palace, dismissing her guards to retire to her room where she would prepare for the arrival of the man who had slaughtered the bear.

Valeri looked to Aamaya, following her eyes every now and then, as the girl talked. She could tell the girl was not handling it well, it was very apparent to Valeri. Aamaya looked exhausted in that late hour, and the bandage around her hand probably told a story of its own. She was about to place a hand on the girl's shoulder when the screams started. This made Valeri snap to attention, suddenly wondering what it could be. She followed Aamaya as the girl left the study, only to be stopped by guards who explained the situation. Valeri's stomach twisted, she felt very sick to hear of the beasts spree. When Aamaya started to leave, Valeri spoke to her, "I don't think that's a very good..." But Aamaya payed no attention to her, as the woman left, escorted by guards, "Idea." she said half absently. She frowned, there always seemed to be something getting between her and her prize.

She was, thankfully, escorted back to her room. When they rounded the corner, there were now five primfiran's, guarding an empty room. She sighed, well, at least they didn't get murdered by a bear. She went inside the now dark room, and fell face first onto her bed. She pouted a bit, having come so close but it was not to be, again. Aamaya was a woman of service, a proud and a little bit impulsive. There were some sights that no one should see, and a massacre as this one sounded was one of them. The girl would be lucky to not have nightmares of the carnage, and Valeri would have no part of it whatsoever. Her place was in the palace, away from such violence if she could help it. Besides, the blood would have made her very sick. Though she pitied those that had died, their sacrifice meant that others did not have to meet the same fate. Tomorrow would be a very sad day, full of mourning and praise for whoever stopped the beast.

Valeri got under her covers, unsatisfied with how the night turned out. Sleep did not come easy, but it came amidst the rain. It came.

---

"What the hell was that? You are Levonian, not Thanatos... In what world did you think I would approve of such an atrocious act?" The ferocity of the king's words took Laurel aback and, in the face of his frenzy, she found herself unable to speak. Her prepapred words about honour and integrity and how that presented an image of Earthica he would surely agree with fell away and she remained silent. There was the stale smell of alcohol on the ruler's breath which was clearly not helping his mood, the man had a terrible temper that was quick to spark and slow to burn down and was perhaps his worst enemy when it came to the prudent task of administering a kingdom. It had been some time since she had seen him in such a rage and she remembered well enough past events that staying quiet was her best course of action; if she were lucky she might escape with just the verbal haranguing and could talk to him later when his mood was more mellow.

The king soon forgot them, his alcohol addled eyes picking Ultfic out from the sea of wounded warriors and he left to celebrate his champion. Tired, faint and now with emotional shock and a general feeling of unworthiness resting heavily upon her heart, Laurel felt her senses and mood fade to a point where she would notice and feel little. It was a poor attitude to take, she knew, but it was a depressive mood that sometimes took her over with the hope that it might protect her from any further mental blows. The responsible part of her was screaming that she should not let herself retreat so, it would hamper her abilities to act as Eve's guard but the mood quashed the reasonable point ruthlessly; she was not really the Princess' guard, there were plenty of better qualified men in the king's retinue who could carry out the duty and she had only come because Eve had asked her to. If she just stepped back and watched from the shadows then things would be easier and she would not have to keep up wih the charade.

"Eve, can we go to your rooms please?" She spoke in a quiet voice, not because she feared anyone overhearing her reveal their closeness but because she was too stunned to realise the verbal slip. Her tone was flat, empty, as she retreated into herself.

"Eve, If you spend all your time gallivanting with Laurel you will never get anything done. Night is falling daughter, a woman of your status shall not be out at this time in a stranger Kingdom. To your chambers, now..." Her fathers words, harsh and demanding, let her shrunk in her posture. Evangeline felt weaker and smaller, she felt disappointed. In herself for not fulfilling her father's expectations, but also in her father for being such an asshole again. "You are here for a reason daughter." For a reason.... right.... The King left the two women standing alone.

The quiet, empty voice of her friend concerned her. Eve nodded at her request and reached her hand out to touch Laurel's lower arm in silent support for a moment before withdrawing again. "You did nothing wrong", she tried to assure her. "You were glorious on the battlefield. My father is just... hurt in his pride. And drunk, very clearly."

She looked at the tired face of the warrior, trying to figure out what exactly she could do to make her feel better. Laurel feeling hurt or regretful or weak because of her father was something Evangeline absolutely hated. She knew how the King could make someone feel so small and stupid, she felt it on an almost daily basis. But she wanted Laurel to never meet with his anger like that.

King Klaus upon meeting Laurel for the first time had been stunned by her, appreciated her techniques, her finesse, her intelligence and her strength. He had always given her many more encouraging and supportive words than he would ever spare for his own daughter. He had even liked Laurel.

Evangeline motioned for Laurel to walk with her as she looked for and soon found an Exodus guard who would show them the way to Eve's chamber.

Laurel allowed herself to be led by Eve, heading towards the Princess' chambers on the directions of an Exodus guard. Despite the lethargic chains dragging her soul down into a low mood she tried to stay attentive, old instincts searching shadows for anything hiding there and being mindful of her surroundings. It was unlikely anyone would attempt somethin in the middle of the Exodus palace but such complacency was something she was sure an assassin would make use of. Her field of vision was blurred, a side effect of her concussion she was sure, so she slowly swung her head from side to side to check all around them although the movement made her fresh stitches itch. She had to admit, though, that the Freyjan healer had done a good job; certanly better than she could manage herself. She wanted something to soothe the pain but alcohol was out of the question, despite its pain nulling effects it was likely to cause her other issues just as Thyrri had warned.

"Maybe you should get another guard for tonight, Eve," they were alone so she had no fear of being overheard, "I'm not sure I'm in any condition to protect you if something happens." How had she allowed her pride and sense of honour get in the way of what she was meant to be doing here? She was supposed to be protecting her friend and princess, the heir to the throne, and instead she had participated in a ridiculous event of internatonal machismo resulting in her being unable to carry out that duty. Both as a guard, entrusted with an important task, and as a friend meant to be looking out for Eve in this nest of potentially poisonous vipers, she had utterly failed. "I'll be okay by tomorrow, I think. I just need some time to rest my head." She paused, leaning against a wall as a bout of dizziness threatened to topple her but it soon passed.

As Laurel leaned against the wall, Evangeline stopped to stand next to her, concerned. She shook her head gently at Laurel's words. "I can take care of myself for a night or two. Don't worry about it. It's you you should be thinking about. You can barely stand on your feet." She held her arm out as an offer. "Lean on me, if you must. I just want to get you to bed. You need quiet, water and a lot of sleep."

It was strange for Evangeline to have their roles reversed in such a way. Her taking care of Laurel. Laurel needing her protection. While she was heavily concerned, still felt responsible for her friend's participation in the tournament and it hurt her to see her in this condition, she was also glad she could return the favor, give something back to her for once.

Without further asking she wrapped her arm around Laurel's waist to steady her and continued their walk in a slow pace. The Exodus guard shot them a strange look - Eve was unsure of what it meant, but she didn't care -, but he did not offer to help her. Perhaps he was smart enough to know not to interfere.

As they reached the chamber after turning left and right too many times and climbing some stairs, Eve ordered the guard to leave them alone and he went away without a word, obviously relieved to be excused from being the navigator of these two slow-walking women. Evangeline guided Laurel towards the large bed and softly let her sink onto it, propping her feet up onto it afterwards. She took a moment to stretch her body, feeling her muscles screaming at the weight she had been holding on only one side.

The princess noticed that the room was clearly not a 'top priority' chamber, even without paying much attention to it's furniture. While still fancy for Earthica standards, she realized it was not made to impress her, not for Exodus standards at least. But to be fairly honest, Eve was glad. She preferred this over what she could only imagine being Exodus' 'most elite' chambers.

Her hand moved over the sheets that Laurel lied upon, they were so soft, unlike anything she had ever touched in Earthica's palace. She was not even sure if she should still be calling it a palace. Eve had always considered her home to be huge and fancy and a real eye catch. But it was barely a ruin next to Exodus' royal facility. She began to feel a little homesick as she though back to her own room, her own bed, her training grounds on which she had build her own Parcours.

Her hand continued to move, as she reached Laurel's leg she gave it a gentle nudge. "How are you feeling?" She sat down to her feet and began to take off her shoes. "I will put these on the floor for you. Do you want a water maybe?" Evangeline felt strange. She had never needed to take care of someone before and she clearly didn't know how to. She tried to recall how her maids and her mother had acted around her when she had been sick. What did they offer her? What made her feel better when she felt weak? But her mind had trouble grasping a situation from the past she had never put much effort into remembering in the first place.

"Just let me know, whatever you need, okay?"

It was a strange sensation, Eve supporting her so publicly. Large parts of her flickering consciousness cried out in embarassment, trying to warn her that it was not proper or seemly and would inevitably harm the image of Earthica. Wise words, to be sure, but politics were never something that she had been bothered to observe, let along have any skill at. The more tired and prevalent mood took control and she allowed Eve to half lead, half carry her battered and unwilling body through the hallways of the lavish Exodus palace with the guard as their reluctant guide.

Most of the journey was a blur to her and she mumbled vaguely coherent replies to Eve as she was transported to Eve's chambers. Before she knew it she was lying on a bed and the Princess was taking off her boots awkwardly, clearly unused to helping someone else out of their footwear.

A strange thought entered her giddy mind and she chuckled inanely to herself at the thought of Eve attempting to seductively undress someone else; if her current actions were any sign she would need other methods. In her oddly detached state the thought then irritated her, a flash of jealousy at Eve giving some imaginary person such attention igniting an entirely insuitable desire in her chest.

Lying on the bed she returned full to consciousness, the strange thoughts from before forgotten.

"You should call for a guard Eve... night isn't safe." When had words become so hard? Perhaps her head injury was more serious than she had previously assumed."I'll be okay. Just need some rest. I'll be right as rain tomorrow, you'll see." The strange, slightly delerious state returned, it was a lot like being drunk, and she had to suppress a random giggle.

"How come you put that dress on? Thought you hated it..." Her words came out a little slurred, slow but still managing to run into one another. "Looks nice though... on you I mean." She laughed again, feeling lightheaded. What a release to just say what came into her mind!

Eve's forehead furrowed for a short moment, worried about her friend and her slurred words, as though she had trouble to speak clearly. The princess turned her body to face Laurel once she had placed the warrior's shoes by the bedside. She looked at her for a while in silence, before a soft smile played around her lips.

The situation wasn't ideal and frankly Evangeline was slightly panicking. If anything happened to Laurel, if her condition got worse, if there was a serious internal injury that Thyrri had overseen - she wouldn't know what to do. She would be at a loss of actions and probably do more damage than good in trying to help her friend. The idea frightened her.

But she smiled nonetheless. Finally she had time alone with her friend, to catch up, to tell her how she had felt all day long, about her first impression on the city and the palace, how she had met Amaya and Thyrri and the reason why she had changed her attire, how her parents hadn't even noticed it or, if she was being brutally honest, her. Oh how glad she was to have the redheaded woman back at her side!

"Firstly, no", the princess giggled softly as she began to answer Laurel. "No guard. I do not want anyone eavesdropping on us. I wanna talk freely to you, to my friend. And as you know I have always been against those babysitters. I only make an exception for you." She put a little smirk on and wiggled with her eyebrows jokingly.

"As for the dress... Well that is a funny story actually." She shifted her weight, leaned onto one hand that she had placed next to Laurel's legs. "And talking about it, I really really gotta get out of it. I hate it. And it wasn't even worth it!" She made a sound like an angry animal. "I met Thyrri - she was your healer, if you remember? - at the garden right after having had a short lived conversation with her cousin princess Aamaya. And somehow the chit chat between us got directed to her family, her aunt the Queen to be more exact. And as she told me how their relationship was, I just realized that my mother had always been very accepting of me and had given me as much freedom as I could have in my position. So I kind of got guilty - and also because of princess Aamaya! - and I just had to change, try to make up for what I've ruined, but then they didn't even notice or care. And I also didn't get any chance to talk to the princess again and apologize for my attire and behavior. I just... I messed up again, Laurel."

She sighed heavily. "But that is not so important. I mean of course it is somehow, but right now you are way more important. How are you feeling? Are you sure you don't want a glass of water? Or... I don't know.... a warm bath?" Her rambling ended abruptly after that question had been asked. A slight red filling her cheeks once her mind caught up with her quicker mouth.

Was her head spinning too much or were Eve's cheeks red? Laurel had noticed the princess blushing more as of late although as far as she could tell there was nothing for the royal heir to be embarassed about. She thought about what Eve had said, mulling over the conversation she had with the Freyjan princesses with a brief stab of jealousy; try as she might she had never been able to get Eve to take a responsible course of action over the many years they had known each other and yet these other women had succeeded in a matter of hours! Laurel was sure that was partly down to their shared social status, the trappings of royalty and the expectations that came with it things that were well beyond her but an area Eve shared with the foreign princesses. It was perhaps the first time that Eve had encountered foreign royalty, certainly ones that were of her own age and in a similar situation, eminently marriageable with strong and direct links to the throne. It was all too much politics for Laurel but she had the good fortune to be able to step away from it all, there was no such look for these other women who must endure it.

"Maybe in the morning, I think the steam might go to my head right now." She sat up, the dizziness had faded somewhat now that time had passed since they had travelled to Eve's chambers. She realised, somewhat belatedly, that it was late with a pitch blackness outside only illuminated by many lights of the festival strung outside and the moon above. When had she last eaten, she wondered? There had been no time during the day, she had been whisked away to the tournament almost as soon as she had neared anything that could have sated her appetite. "I think what I could do most with is something to eat. I haven't had anything since this morning, before we got here. That's probably why I feel so weak." It made sense, in conjunction with her head wound; the latter was not sufficient to lay her so low and the shock of the injury was also clearing away to leave her more clear headed and feeling a little stronger.

With that clarity of thought she began to take more notice of their surroundings and soon she picked up on increased activity outside in the hall, panicked voices and the clattering sound of armoured soldiers running. They were not the sounds of a peaceful palace during a festival and she was instantly on the alert, the dagger strapped to her belt flowing into her hand as she stepped up toward the door, adrenaline banishing the unsurety her body had been exhibiting since the tournament. She ignored Eve's worried questioning, yanking the door open forcefully and demanding news from a passing servant who paled a little at the sight of the drawn blade in her hand. Laurel had little time for her fear and snapped at the unfortunate man for news.

"A bear, mistress! A true monster, in the streets. Guests are to stay in their rooms, the King and Queen have ordered it!

He scurried away, leaving Laurel staring after the backs of a group of Exodus soldiers rushing towards what was presumably an exit leading to the rest of the city and the bear. Fools, they need to weaken it with javelins and bows before they attack with spears. She slipped her dagger back into its sheath before reentering the room and looking for her bow, previously delivered by a servant. She started toward it, her mind running over the times she had encountered a monstrous bear before. She had planned those times, leading them into traps and picking them off from a distance; if ever she was unprepared she had retreated for they were not to be trifled with and she doubted these cityfolk properly understood the threat they faced.

"There's a bear on the loose. I'm probably one of the few who've fought one before, I need to go an help." She paused, a bought of dizziness washing over her and she stumbled, leaning on a wardrobe for support for a moment and stared at her bow. Could she pull that great warbow in her current state or would going be simply suicide? Pride and conscience battled with sense and caution and she stopped for a moment as the two sides fought for control as she gazed at her beloved weapon vacantly.

A sudden business in the hallway outside her chamber caught Eve's attention, and with a look over at her friend, who was on her feet suddenly, she knew it had caught Laurel's as well. Eve could spot the worry in her face and it alarmed her. She was not worried for what was going on outside so much, but rather what Laurel would do to protect her from whatever was going on.

As Laurel pulled the door open and roughly demanded some answers to the burning question, Eve reached for her throwing knives. Her mind caught up with the situation quickly. She was in danger. Not personally, not because of her title or her wealth, but because of a beast that didn't discriminated anyone and would gladly end everyone's lives, should they come close enough. People were fighting in the gruesome rain, she could see the scene in front of her inner eye, see the deaths. Oh god, she prayed it wouldn't be her men, it wouldn't be many of her own.

With her knives drawn and resting between the fingers of her right hand, ready to be thrown with an exact precision that was unmatched, she reached for Laurel's hand with her free one, tightly gripping onto it. "No." Her voice was stern. It was an order. "I want you to lie back down." Her arm wrapped around Laurel's waist once more and with way more strength than before she forcefully guided the woman back to the bed, gently pushing her down to a sitting position on the soft sheets. "You will stay here. In this room. You will not interfere with the fight." The serious look in her eyes softened as her heart began to ache at the thought of her friend battling such a beast in her current condition. "Stay safe", she whispered, her voice soft and kind, but also broken and begging.

Evangeline looked at the closet standing tall in the room. With three large steps she reached it and pulled it upon. A single look confirmed her assumption. Her luggage had been carried to her chamber for her and her clothes had been hung up and laid out in the closet carefully, ready for her. And there, leaning on the left side, was her bow and her quiver with arrows. "I need to get out of this dress right now." Her words were mumbled, meant for herself rather than any listener, but still loud enough.

The three knives disappeared beneath her clothes again. She had pulled them out of instinct, in case she would need instant protection, or Laurel would have needed assistance as she opened the door. But the corridor seemed safe enough. People were still rushing by, the door stood open, Evangeline didn't care.

With quick fingers she pulled on various parts of the dress, tried to get it over her head, to get it loose enough to wiggle it off, but it was proven to be much more difficult than that. The dress uncomfortable tightened around her chest instead, leaving Eve gasping for air. Who invented these monstrous things?! I would take on a bear any day over clothing like this!

The princess tried to open the back of her dress, but her arms couldn't reach due to the tightness of the material around her slim body, her mobility was restrained enormously.

Eve overpowered her easily in her weakened state, steering her toward the bed and forcing her down. They were both physically fit and in their prime but while Eve lacked the sheer brute strength practicing with a warbow had given Laurel she was able to steer the dizzy woman, weak from lack of food and her injury. For a few moments, disoriented, Laurel did not notice Eve trying to free herself from her dress and her confused mind was slow to pick up on what she was doing. Inevitably, however, she caught up and, ignoring her friend's stern words to stay sat, she stood unsteadily and helped the princess out of the constricting dress, ripping the material easily even in her fumbling condition.

"You're not going out either, Eve. Even when you've been with me you haven't faced one of those things, you don't know what a fully mature one is capable of!"

Eve's heart jumped when she felt two hands on her, pulling on the dress to help her out of it. As the fabric dropped to the floor and pooled around her ankles, she stepped out of it. The woman was left standing in front of Laurel in the same underwear that Thyrri had seen her in earlier and the borrowed shoes she still had to return.

The fiery red head felt so much more comfortable in the forest green lace bra and panties, that had a few very thin, delicate branches with only a couple leaves of golden yarn draped over them. The air that hit her skin was amazing! Eve felt much more alive suddenly, braver and more powerful than before.

Her eyes didn't dare to meet with Laurel's as she answered to her. "I might have not. But I can still help. Weaken it from afar. I will not get too close. But I have to do something. This is my folk fighting for their lives out there. My men dying to protect a foreign city from this beast. I have to honor them with my presence, I have to show them respect and fight by their side. I can not hide in my chambers while they fall victim to the giant paws and tireless blood thirst of this beast."

With quick hands Eve snatched a pair of pants and a top out of the closet and put them on. She decided there was no time to try and undo the complicated shoes she was wearing, they would have to do for now. Without shooting Laurel another look she grabbed her bow and quiver, made a turn on her heels and strutted towards the door, ready to fling herself into the fight.

Eve was heading out the door, towards the battle. If she were in better condition and if she were younger, Laurel would have grabbed her own bow and followed her friend out the door but she knew better now. She could not protect Eve while she herself was so weak but more importantly she had come across the remnants of unprepared hunting bands beyond the safety of Earthica's walls far too often. Eve was skilled, there was no denying it, but she was also impetuous and was ruled by her whims, things a bear preyed on for it was not merely a mass of brute strength.

"Eve!" She called out but the Princess would not be stopped so easily. With a will she surged forwards and wrapped her strong arms around Eve, encircling her torso and pinning the Princess' arms to her body. "I can't let you go, Eve." She grunted, lifting the other woman up off the ground in her powerful grasp and shuffled back to the bed before collapsing back on it, still holding her friend tightly against her own body.

"I know you don't want to hear it, Eve, but it's their job to fight and die for their kingdom. Yours is to survive so that the king has an heir." She grunted as an elbow was pressed roughly into her ribs, the Princess struggling in her grip but she would not let go and Eve could not break her grasp so easily. "It's my job to keep you safe, I can't do that out there. Can you just let me do that, this once?" She continued quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not losing you to that beast."

Hearing her friend call out for her to stay pained her deeply. It felt like she was leaving a part of her behind somehow. But she couldn't stop, if she stopped walking, if she turned around, if she allowed herself to listen to her words, she would fail to go through with her mission.

But Laurel didn't try more than one call to stop her. Her next attempt, admittedly taking the princess by surprise, was of much more efficiency. Arms wrapped around Evangeline tightly, her body got squeezed together, she let out a yelp and dropped her bow and quiver in the surprise attack which she could only describe as a tight grip hug.

The next moment she got lifted up and taken back to the bed. Imprisoned in Laurel's arms they lied on the sheets. Evangeline attempted to get out of the grip, she wiggled and pushed as best as she could with her arms being trapped like that, but it was all to no use. For some reason Laurel had gained a massive amount of strength, her weakness gone for the moment.

The warrior continued to lecture her about the roles they all had to play, but she didn't listen. She didn't want to hear those things, didn't want to face them. She tried to ignore her words. Laurel's whisper about not losing her broke her though. Her limbs went still, she stopped squirming. "You will not lose me."

The situation was absurd. A princess trapped in a big bear hug on her huge bed by her injured warrior with the door wide open and people still occasionally hurrying by in the hallway, a deadly beast on the loose on the outside.

The ginger woman sighed. "Let me go. You won. I'll stay." The truth was that Laurel's words had struck Evangeline and she had realized that Laurel would not be stopped from following her. She could lock her up, she could tie her down, but Laurel would fight her way out, find her, protect her, with her life. And that was something Eve would not let happen. It was inappropriate and unforgivable, but the undeniable truth was that Laurel's life meant more to her than those of any other Earthican warrior. And she felt bad because of it, she felt like she had failed her people, she felt like a miserable person, she felt like she betrayed them, like she was responsible for their deaths because she had decided not to join them - which was silly of course, how would she have stopped the beast from injuring or killing anyone? - but more than anything she wanted to keep this beautiful woman that was squeezing the life out of her safe and well. She was more important.

Reluctantly, Laurel loosened her grip at Eve's words, the fight leaving both their bodies. She could feel Eve relaxing in her arms, their bodies pressed against each other in a way they had never been before; closely. Intimately. She banished the thoughts that rose in her mind instantly, now was not the time for wild fantasies and she could feel the strength which she had dredged up to pull Eve back suddenly draining away from her leaving her body feeling weaker than before. Somewhat hesitantly she rolled away, lying with her back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling as it swam before her.

"Thank you." She murmured as sleep took her again, its clawing tendrils no longer something which she could fight off.

The closeness, which Laurel's attempt in stopping her had ended in, was abruptly broken when the woman rolled off of her, releasing Evangeline from her grip. The Earthica princess took in a deep breath, her lungs finally free from the strong and tight hug.

As she turned her head to look at her friend she saw Laurel's eyes closing. The red head mumbled a 'thank you' to her as she drifted off into sleep. Eve's eyes lingered on Laurel's face, now calm and relaxed as slumber took her over. She was relieved the warrior finally found some rest. It was much needed.

A sigh left her lips. She wondered what it would feel like to move her finger tips over the soft skin on her cheeks. Run them down her nose gently. Play with the beautiful red mane. What would it be like if she moved closer and felt her calm breath on the skin of her neck? Evangeline shook her head slowly, scolding herself. Inappropriate thoughts. What would Laurel say if she knew about them? She would probably be freaked out. Her best friend thinking such shameful things! And those were only the innocent thoughts of which she had recently been having.

Her feelings for Laurel had always been strong. But for a while now they had grown into a different direction. One that Eve didn't like, but also loved as it was exciting and it didn't feel so wrong, but it was wrong in all ways! It was confusing. She was her friend. Her guard. Eve was her princess. She had a certain power over her. Simply by having that title. It could never turn into a healthy relationship. But hold your horses, stupid princess! She would not want that. She would perhaps distance herself from you, if you dared to tell her anything about it. She is dutiful. She would think of it as wrong, because of her being your guard and your friend.

Evangeline finally took her eyes off her friend's peaceful face. She sat up and slid off the bed to close the door that still stood open. She picked up the bow and arrows from the floor and stuffed them into the closet along with her ripped off dress. Then she began to try to undo the shoes she had borrowed. Luckily it was less complicated to get them off. The shoes got carefully placed into the closet; she would have to make sure to thank Thyrri for her help and kindness. She should make a gesture, maybe she could ask her to take her out for a meal as a thank you? Was that a thing in Exodus? She knew in Earthica, where money was rare, taking someone out to eat anywhere was somewhat of a deal. Of course, Exodus would have much different places to offer food, she assumed. But maybe their traditions were so different from Eathicas that they would not consider this gesture something special? She would have to ask Thyrri about that.

The princess took her bra off by opening it and pulling it through one of her t-shirt's sleeves. It landed on the floor. She then moved back to the bed and layed down on it, carefully slipping underneath the blanket. She would sleep in pants and shirt today, she didn't care enough to get changed.

Tonight has costed her a lot of energy. Getting forced into a dress, shoes and hairstyle she hated. Travelling to a strange city. So many expectations about her behavior, that she had all already failed to follow. The festival. The talk with Aamaya, which turned out to having been a disaster. Her little adventure with Thyrri, trying to correct a mistake, which also ended in a disaster. Laurel getting hurt in a tournament, which was clearly one of the most stressful things she had endured all her life. Her father talking about punishing her friend. Her parents ignoring her presence as much as they could. The bear attack. Her men dying. Laurel stopping her from helping them. Her torn feelings about the beautiful red headed warrior, the best she had ever seen. And now she was lying here, on a soft as clouds bed with a gorgeous woman, being safe and sound, not making a single move to help her men out there, leaving them to die without trying to stop it. She felt terrible. But she would not sneak out. She would not leave Laurel alone. She would not risk anything happening to her tonight.

Evangeline stared at the ceiling, thoughts over thoughts clashing together in her head, all demanding attention, all causing a storm of different, conflicting emotions. She did not know what to do. She wished for nothing else but to be home. She wanted to close her eyes, fall asleep and wake up at home in her bed, the festival not yet having begun, it all just having been a gigantic mess of a nightmare. She wanted to wake up in a world where Laurel didn't get hurt because of Eve's inattentiveness, where she did not mess up her very first conversation with the mighty princess of Exodus, where she did not stand half naked in front of the royal healer, where she did not disappoint her parents so enormously, where her men didn't die on their first night away from home - many of which had wives and children waiting at home for them. The truth was, she wanted to get back to her privilege life of not caring about what happened in the world, back to a reality where she lived in a bubble and all was well.

But tomorrow would come mercilessly and she would face the aftermath of her actions. The bear fight would most likely be over then. Funerals would have to be dealt with. But her father and mother would take care of that. That was a little relief to her.

On the other hand, she still had to talk to Aamaya. Apologize. Impress. Wow her. Marry her...

With those thoughts her eyes fell shut as exhaustion caught up with her.

Thyrri felt like she was surrounded by a thick mist. There were people around her, shouting, fighting, getting injured or dying but to her it was all one big blur. In her current ‘detached’ state she barely realized what is happening. Why are all these people here? Why is she here, lying on the cold ground, soaking wet? Why are parts of her body and dress covered in this sticky red substance that looks suspiciously like blood? She somehow felt that not knowing answers to these questions was better.

Suddenly the weight holding her down disappeared, and a pair of strong hands lifted her off the ground and half pushed, half carried her somewhere. A strange face appeared in her field of vision, a very pale man with long white hair. How unusual. Thyrri felt like she should know him, but her brain refused to cooperate and provide her a name. The face was talking to her, but the words made no sense to her. Something about princess? But she wasn’t really a princess, it was always Aamaya, who was the ‘real’ princess, while Thyrri being just a tolerated guest in the palace.

The hands let go of her an she was left standing in the middle of the street. A few shaky steps brought her to one of the buildings, where she slowly lowered herself back to the ground, leaning against the wall, her arms hugging her knees tightly. There was a weird and annoying clacking noise that stopped her from falling back into lethargic state. She looked around, but the bodies nearby weren’t really moving, which for some reason made her feel sad and guilty, but it also meant that the sound didn’t come from them. Only moments later she realized the noise was in fact caused by her teeth chattering wildly, which was strange, because she didn’t feel cold. Her head rested against her knees, she just wished everyone would leave her alone, so she could sleep.

But the images of the carnage around were persistent, trying to get through to her, replaying on the inside of her eyelids. Her numbness began to fade away, revealing everything that has happened in the plain brutality.

She failed.

One of the bodies on the street caught her sight and she slowly crawled towards it, ignoring the blood and dirt covering her clothes and arms. It was the young soldier that tried to ask for her help earlier, his arm still extended towards her, his eyes giving her an accusing look. ‘Why didn’t you help me?’ There was no doubt that his wounds were lethal, he was sentenced to death the moment that monstrosity touched him, but still…

She didn’t even try.

Her trembling hand reached to boy’s face, softly brushing over his eyelids to close his eyes to give his soul peace, but also to hide from all the accusations. Her dirty fingers left war paint marks on his cold skin. ‘Why did you let me die like this?’

Sobbing softly, she knelt beside the body, no doubt looking like a person who just lost their loved one, but it was worse than that. She had lost herself. She had failed not just as a member of Exodus royalty, or even as a healer, she had failed as a person. Just once her beliefs and principles were put up to a test and she failed miserably. Maybe it would have been better if the monster had killed her as well, getting the world rid of one useless coward person. She blinked towards the street where the fight still continued, but some Earthicans joined with warriors from Primfira took over and a redhaired madman was jumping around the beast, avoiding its strikes and waiting for a chance to deliver the final blow. Thyrri frowned upon missing her chance.

More and more people were running in, soldiers, healers, people who just wanted to help and the usual amount of rubberneckers. Someone brought a pile of dry cloaks and started to distribute them amongst the wounded, as the rain continued to pour down, washing the blood off the street. Thyrri saw Aamaya’s bodyguards in the distance, accompanying the princess and heading towards the now dead beast. Thyrri panicked, guilt and shame nearly overwhelming her. Grabbing one of the cloaks, she hid under the hood and quickly disappeared into one of the side alleys. She wandered the city aimlessly for an hour, no idea what she was going to do. One thing was certain – her actions cast a bad light not just on the royal family but on her entire country. There was no way she could go back into the palace. That part of her life was over.

Finally, she stopped at one of the cheaper inns near the port, where guests from poorer kingdoms were accommodated and paid a few coins for a small room, hot bath and clean clothes. The hostess gave her a strange look, but the money convinced her. The bath was steaming hot and later Thyrri curled next to a small fireplace in her room, so close that her new dress almost caught fire, but no amount of heat seemed to be able to stop her from shaking or make her feel warm.

Word of the monstrous black bear had reached the boudoir, though the news changed nothing from within as everyone was told to stay put. It wasn't until just before dawn that a few Freyjan guards returned to give the news that the beast had been slain. They would need the woman working here to help the wounded, as many began preparing warm blankets and towels.

"Wake up!"

Dalious' eyes shot open and he reached for his weapon, though it was far on the other end of the room. When he saw Mahita at the door, she was fully dressed with a look of concern on her face. He gave her a polite nod and smile and then crashed his face back into the pillow for more sleep.

"I said wake up!" Mahita repeated, this time grabbing the sheets and pulling them off the bed. He opened his eyes again, his tiredness wearing heavily on him.

"It's a bit early, but I suppose if you want to go again we could," he patted the area of the bed next to him for her to lay down. "Though I fear I may not be at optimal performance, I received limited sleep." It was still dark outside, though the people talking and making noises outside the room made it seem like it was midday.

"A giant bear attacked the city last night, dozens were killed and injured," she informed him. "Everyone here is helping out, we could use you too!"

"Oh, well that's an easy one to figure out," he told her as he started to get up and put his clothes back on. "Just find a giant fish!"

There was no smile to Mahita's face, she seemed agitated and under stress. Her demeanor had completely shifted from what it was hours ago, when they were alone together. It made him take this more seriously, even though all of this felt like it were a dream. He flicked his bandage to make sure it wasn't, a flinch coming to his face from the pain. The stab wound felt worse than yesterday, though it looked to be healing properly. Mahita quickly rebandaged it for him. "The bear is dead. I'm worried about Thyrri," she said as she did so. "She went out around the time this was all happening..."

"I'm sure she's fine, probably went back to the palace," he said.

"Will you go find her for me, make sure she's okay? I must stay and prepare for the wounded, please find her!"

"Yeah, sure. I'll find her."

Mahita finally smiled again, kissing Dalious on his cheek and then parting to leave. "Thank you, you are welcomed here anytime."

"That's good because you just happen to be my favorite person in this city, sweet Melissa!"

"It's Mahita."

"Right. I'll go find Thyrri then."

The streets were alive with people just like the day before, however it was not for the festival this time. Homes and businesses opened up for the injured, with people moving this way and that. Dalious took a broom from Mahita's, breaking off the bristled end to use as a walking stick. His stab wound was piercing him with every step, and he even had to stop to take a few breaks along the way.

Nearly tripping over a large puddle, he straightened himself out and realized it was no puddle but one of the bear's massive paw prints. The wall next to him had big claw marks on it, with bricks and rubble broken down from the top. It appeared the animal had entered the city from here and then made its way through the back alleys. But why would a bear go through the trouble of entering the city? It seemed strange for even a mutated one, but perhaps someone from here killed its cub. He made a mental note to check the other side of the wall later if it deemed necessary, then kept moving toward the scene of the incident.

He could hear the gathering of people a few blocks away, some were still screaming in agony while others tried to ease their suffering. He saw the dead bear from a distance, its head cut clean off. Before he would approach, something scraped the ground nearby and it caught his attention. There was an armored man sitting against the wall of the alley, parallel to the bear's location. He sat alone, using the metal from his gauntlet to scratch at the ground in order to get someone's attention.

It was still very dark, but upon approaching the man, Dalious could see that he was wearing the crest of Luthra. His face looked familiar, though dreary and covered in a cold sweat. After a brief moment he realized that the man was the guard of his friend, Melchior the prince of Luthra. The guard attempted to speak but could not, instead he pulled down his chest plate and revealed a mass of blood. The bear had slashed him at the base of his throat, and the poor man had been struggling to stay alive the entire night.

"Oh, that's not good," Dalious muttered under his breath. He helped to take off the guard's plate entirely, then started to put pressure at the wound. More blood came out and the man started to choke, him even living this long was a miracle. Dalious pulled his flask from his back pocket and poured the last of his whiskey onto the area, but the guard grabbed it and tossed the remaining drops in his mouth. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

With a last bit of energy, the guard lifted his arm and pointed toward the massacre just a street alley away. "Mel..." he said, then his hand fell limp and his body did the same. He was dead, finally at rest. Dalious closed his eyes and looked over toward the carnage nearby, the guard was pointing at one of the many bodies.

Dalious quickly rushed over, using his stick as a cane. He wasn't able to notice anyone else surrounding him as his focus was dead set on a corpse. The body was cut in half at the waist, guts spilled out just beside it. The victim lay face first on the street, but Dalious recognized the clothing. He grabbed and turned the face so he could see, it was him. "No!" Dalious grunted and quickly backed away. He lost his balance and walking stick, causing him to fall to his knees. Tears began to swell in his eyes as he let out a thunderous scream.

ULTFIC

Ultfic laid peacefully in his bed sleeping off his hard fought battle earlier in the day. He could feel the pain of soreness all over him, as if his body was punishing him for putting it through such a fight. Breathing in deeply he could feel the sleep begin to take him as the world around him began to fade away giving light to the dreams of his mind. He could see himself, albeit a much younger man version, standing in a forest with a face he had not seen in a long time. It was his old teacher and the former captain of the guard. Becoming horrified when he realized what was coming next. This was the day that he let his master die in the forest and day he was tasked with protecting the royal family with his life. He watched as a group of raiders came flying out from the trees to attack them. The fight was just as he had remembered it going with his master putting up a impressive fight only to be cut down before his eyes. After seeing his master be stabbed through the gut he shot awake taking deep breaths sweating worse than when he was in the arena. He wiped his face and realized he had been crying in his sleep. He chuckled slightly saying “He'd have my head for crying over him.” getting out of his bed he walked around the room for a minute trying to steady himself. Looking outside his window he could see the sky pouring down onto the streets below with the occasion crack of thunder the would illuminate the city before him. He hoped that his men had found their way back to the keep by this point and that he wouldn't have to haul their drunken asses back in the rain.

Just as he had turned around he heard what sounded like running coming from the hall outside his door. Curious of the commotion he peered outside and into the hallway catching a garden that looked to be in a hurry. “What is all the running for and why do you look scared out of your boots.” slightly shaking the guard replied “nothing for you to worry about sir please return to your room.” the guard clearly had no idea who he was talking to but Ultfic decided it was best to find out himself. That was of course until he heard the sound of a cream coming from deep in the city. Running back inside he quickly grabbed his sword and armor and ran towards the city. He had passed a couple of exodus guards who were clearly not prepared for such and emergency as he made his way closer and closer to the source of the scream. As he drew closer he could hear the sounds of yelling and of a roaring beast. Ultfic froze with horror when he rounded the corner. It was bear that looked almost like it was an undead creature sent from hell itself. He had remembered hearing stories of such creatures but he had never seen one like this in person. Shaking it off he was prepared to fight when he saw his best friend solveig rush at the bear like a true warrior driving his ax deep into the monsters shoulder clearly hurting it and possibly even killing the damned thing. He almost laughed at himself knowing that Solveig would never let him hear the end of how he “saved the city from a bear.” Ultfic began to walk towards his friend when the in lighting speed the bear awoke and clamped down on Solveig’s neck dragging him to the ground.

There were screams and yelling that filled the street but everything went blank for ultfic. He stood there as he saw the street be filled with more blood as Solveig’s eye looked at him as the life was pulled out of him. Ultifcs vision went red as the world's around him came back as he let out a roar that would haunt even the most seasoned warriors nightmares as made a move to charge the bear. He cared not for his own safety just the vengeance he would have for his friend's death. Exodus guards seeing and hearing he tried to grab him by the arms and stop him but he would not have any of it as he slipped through there grasp placing a punch into one's gut and kick to the other. Seeing his reckless behavior some of his own men ran and hooked him by the arms as he tied to break free. Having enough of it one of them smacked Ultfic in the back of the head with the hilt of a sword knocking him unconscious as they dragged him away from the fight towards a tavern.

---

Valeri slept heavily in the large Exodus bed, whose silken sheets she wound up wrapping herself in like a cocoon. It was a most cozy sleep, one undisturbed by bad dreams or noises besides the soft pattern of rain. Thankfully, the Primfiran delegation had been given the most accommodating of rooms, with everything built around their height. The bed had ample room for her legs, the bath was large enough for her to stretch comfortably, and even the furniture was larger then normal, but only be a small margin. The Exodus, it seemed, did in fact know how to treat their guests well.

With a large yawn, Valeri awoke to find herself in a strange place. Her morning disorientation was quickly swept away as she focused, regaining her wits. She blinked, then rubbed her eyes and sat up. The morning light was brighter then she would have guessed from the events of last night, it was almost strange really. The weather could be so unpredictable, much like people. Valeri looked around, she was alone and not a thing of hers had been disturbed, or if it had, she would not have noticed anyways.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and groggily shouted, "Siaaaaaa!"

Her door opened as soon as she had uttered her name, and in an instance her room was flooded with Maids going about their work in preparing the Princess for the day. She liked it this way, when they were called upon they answered, and it beat them waking her up like they use to when she was a child.

Sia, the older woman, walked over to Valeri's bedside, her expression as adamant as always. "Good morning Princess Valeri, feeling well rested after yesterdays events?"

"Mhmm." Came her reply.

"Exodus has given us an official statement on certain events that have transpired yesterday night, and for today. Would you like to read it, or shall I?" She asked.

Valeri shook her head, mumbling something about words being hard.

Sia cleared her throat, then began to read the statement. Valeri paid attention to most of it, but by the end she found herself nodding off. When Sia finished, Valeri took stock. The bear attack had claimed many lives, she hoped not many of her people had been causalities. Other then a feast held in the night, there wasn't really much to do, or anything she needed to attend today. Perhaps she would go on a trip through Exodus, and at this point she thought of another bear attack, then thought better of it. She would only leave the palace if she truly needed to.

"Princess, your bath has been drawn." Sia said, breaking her train of thought. Valeri looked at the older woman and smiled softly. She then slowly got out of bed.

"I don't know what I would do without you girls." Valeri stated somberly, before walking over to the steaming bathtub. She was helped out of her garments, the silken clothing being whisked away. She would probably never see it again.

She entered the tub, letting the water take her naked body in it's warmth. Following her were two younger maidens, the same two that had been in the carriage with her. Valeri smiled knowingly, letting herself drift as they meticulously washed her body. Ionna was the taller of the two. She had light blonde hair, wrapped in a simple bun with two strands falling down the sides of her face, and she had dazzlingly green eyes. Tilly was shorter, her long hair was platinum, and her eyes were a light violet. Both of them were quite petite in frame, but they had a natural beauty for being so young at seventeen. Valeri liked them the best, only after Sia of course, they simply did anything she asked and more. It was quite adorable, in it's own little way.

"And what did you two end up doing last night?" Valeri lulled.

At her sudden question, both girls began to talk simultaneously. It was custom for Primfira servants to be talked to first, before they themselves spoke in front of royalty. Though Valeri did not care much for this rule, she did find it amusing, as they both had a penchant for running their mouths on and on. She knew it pained them to not be able to say anything to her, So Valeri would be silent on many occasions, trying to get either of them to break. It almost worked once, but she hadn't been able to replicate the procedure.

Valeri closed her eyes and giggled, "Ladies, ladies, one at a time. I swear you never learn." Then both of them began to utter apologies to the Princess.

They both then went quiet and Tilly began to talk, "My Lady, last night was quiet something. Before that foul beast attacked, Ionna and I were... Um, preoccupied with a certain task. Yes, it was going quite well until everyone was running and shouting."

Ionna then cut in, "Oh Princess, it was a tragedy if I ever saw one." Her voice then became a whisper, "Who knew that guards had jobs outside of sneaking away and taking advantage of two innocent maidens. So tragic that our fun was interrupted." Ionna finished innocently.

The Princess smirked, "Mhmm, such naughty little maids." She whispered seductively, "Perhaps they need to be punished?"

At this, the maid's cheeks became flushed, but before either of them could respond, Sia scolded them for taking too long. Tilly and Ionna held but one fear in life, and it was upsetting Sia, so with renewed vigor they cleaned Valeri, washed her hair and then coated her in subtle fragrances of flowers and other delicious smells. They then dried her off, Tilly began to brush her long hair, and Ionna began to apply her favorite black lipstick.

When this was done, Ionna and Tilly withdrew to change into something themselves. Valeri winked as they left. New maids arrived with her clothing for the day, it seemed Sia had chosen something black. Valeri supposed it was only proper, as today would be one of mourning, and it was best to look the part. She was dressed at last, her morning ritual completed. It was time to eat something, and who better to eat with, then her own father? It was time to talk, to see if she could find out what his game was, so she sent a runner to her father, explaining that his daughter would be joining him for breakfast.

She frowned as she left the room, an unpleasant feeling growing as she was escorted by four guards to the inevitable. Speaking with her father always seemed to be a chore on her part, and one were no one gave praise, but someone had to. She liked to think he got terribly lonely, that he enjoyed his daughter's company, but King Erasmi was a hard man who rarely showed emotion and Valeri usually left such conversations in sadness. It was wishful thinking on her part, but just once maybe the King would tell her he loved her. Just once would be enough. Most times however, Valeri found it was easier to talk to a wall, at least then she knew to expect nothing from it. It had always been easier to talk with Mother...

Klase had only so many moments before he was engaged by the King who had been leading the Primferan soldiers. The King of Primfera conducted himself with dignity, though he seemed to be suppressing some distaste. It was no shock to Klase that any king should prefer to have one of their own subjects attain honors rather than the subject of another Kingdom. Klase showed proper respect in both body language and tone but said nothing of real substance beyond thanking the monarch for the acknowledgment and also for the offer of patronage, however unlikely his acceptance would be. There was little enough time for such things and the King of Primfera seemed to share that thought, departing as swiftly as he had begun the exchange. There was no time to brood over the meeting. There was little enough time to save those who could be saved and he could ill afford the distraction.

The wounded who yet breathed and those whose minds had suffered the greater blow were being escorted to their homes or to nearby shelter where they could be treated. It was a swift and valiant effort. The common people of the city rushed to the aid of the fallen, yet for all the good will and determination of those who responded the cost had already been far too high.

The beast lay dead, oblivious and caring nothing about the level of harm it had wrought. This was no victory, not really. Victories were for warriors who bested each other in combat, battles of flesh and will where honorable conduct reflected well on the defeated as well as on the victor. This was merely the extermination of a pest that had run free too long. And Klase had counted the cost.

More than two dozen lay dead from Exodus alone, another half-dozen from Earthica had joined them along with a few who were difficult for him to identify by garb or appearance. In all, more than thirty people lay dead and more than a dozen were wounded but still breathing. If what Klase had learned about the populations of the Kingdoms was accurate then more than one percent of all humanity had perished already, and all because one mutated bear had learned to pass the wall. Such ‘victories’ could easily make humans extinct.

Klase felt little but bitterness, though he hid it behind a mask of stoic endurance as he worked to organize the chaos of the scene. Some would no doubt cheer over this victory. After all, a commoner without fame or title had managed to achieve such a kill, and in the sight of a foreign king as well! Surely this would bolster the pride of his fellow Earthicans and he had no doubt that it is what would be expected of him as well. The princess who would be waiting for him on the morrow would likely be expecting a head held high and a warrior prepared to receive a reward for such a ‘great feat’. Perhaps she would expect a show of loss or sympathy, perhaps a little false humility and self-depreciation. The thought of putting on such a show was enough to raise his bile and sour his spit. All he had really done was put a stop to an already devastating defeat before it became even more catastrophic.

His mood was as dark as the blood-stained mud that half-covered him.

The night’s grisly tasks distracted him from his thoughts as he applied himself with greater fervor but they did nothing to relieve the sick and hollow feeling in his gut. It was difficult to say who would survive from those who had been wounded. Even with careful tending, the odds of infection were high. Yet, they still had a chance to survive. Klase would not disgrace that fact by counting them among the dead. As grim as the night had been, the fight for survival was far from over. As bitter and bloodied as this trip had become since he came to this city, the dawn did eventually come.

A new day was creeping nearer, and it brought with it that awareness of the future that gives no peace. He had come to this place with tasks to accomplish. No matter this tragedy, those tasks still needed doing. No, they were even more important to accomplish because of this horror. And, with his newly earned notoriety, some of them would be far easier while one in particular could be nearly impossible. At least, it would be nearly impossible if he were alone.

“Da, I need your help.” Klase said quietly as the first rays of true dawn began to brighten the sky and warm the morning. The two men had been sent back to their quarters as more and more women and local citizens arrived to aid in the tending of the wounded.

The other four from their party had divided themselves up into two groups. One was busy skinning and dissecting the bear so that warriors from all kingdoms could study the twin skeletons that had made it so difficult to kill and train themselves accordingly. The other group was focused on getting the stall set up and preparing to be proxies for their companions who would be too busy making up for lost time to attend the full extent of the funeral ceremonies. Commoners rarely had the luxury of spending a full day in mourning the fallen. Survival and the needs of the many came first. And so, the two were alone in their room, seeking to cleanse themselves of the blood, mud, and filth of the night before.

No one was idle enough to suggest a fancy floral perfume or complicated bathing ritual when there were wounded and dying men downstairs. The two men made due with an ample amount of cold water and suitable soaps. Telt sat on the edge of a bed, his hair still damp from his latest turn at the tub. He had far less filth to clean off than Klase who had been unfortunate enough to be splashed with ample quantities of bloody mud, to say nothing of the other… leavings of the battlefield that he had handled during the clean-up.

“What is it, boy?” Telt showed his concern on his face but the look in his eyes spoke volumes of what he suspected.

“I don’t think that I’ll be able to go to the King. Not now that so many eyes will be on me. It would be… too dangerous. Can you deliver the… gifts that I brought for him in my stead?” Klase asked as he continued washing himself. The mud and scent of blood were proving a challenge to remove.

“I can do it for you, son.” Telt said without hesitation but he continued with the tone of a mild reprimand. “Just remember what we came here for, all of it.”

Klase paused for a moment as water dripped from his hair defined arms into the basin. His face was mostly concealed by his hair but it twisted into an expression of barely repressed rage and desperation as he remembered that he would have to ‘work and woo’ as soon as the mourning day was over and the festival resumed. His head turned and the two men’s gazes met and locked as firmly as blades. The tension in the room rose dramatically, but only for a moment. Klase closed his eyes and took a ragged breath, resuming his cleaning as he calmed himself.

“Duty remains… Aye, Da. I remember.” He said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

Telt looked at his foundling son with sympathy, but his voice was firm and unwavering.
“I know you can do this, son. Remember that it doesn’t matter if the one you woo is rich or poor. Don’t close any doors that you don’t have to. Every lass and lady of age is a chance, well… unless they be married already.” Telt grinned a little, teasingly, at this little quip. “Not that you’d be looking for that kind of trouble, of course.”

Klase said nothing. He knew that his father was trying to improve his mood. But, he could not bring himself to do more than finish washing and begin his final preparations without a word. He had been informed that he was to present himself to the princess in her study after the formal mourning ceremonies were concluded. So, he needed to dress in mourning black. Yet, he hadn’t packed any black clothes. The necessary dye was fairly difficult to acquire back home and they hadn’t made any sales yet so he had no coin to use to purchase it. In lieu of black, he donned his most understated garb. It was still hunting leathers and tunic but it was of high quality craftsmanship in a dark brown with no embellishment and the tunic was a dark enough gray as to make his respectful intent clear. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, his beard was well combed and his blades were well maintained and rested upon his hips with a simple leather band serving to bind the weapons into their scabbards. He carried them in case of another incident but had bound them so that they could not be drawn quickly as a sign of his caution and honesty. He looked thoroughly respectable and respectful. And with a limited budget, there was only so much finery that could be expected of a nameless commoner from Earthica.

Yet, as he made a fringe appearance at the mourning ceremony near its conclusion, his appearance was the only thing that might have drawn reproach. His conduct was perfect. In fact, it was too perfect. No commoner should know such polished etiquette. Yet, it seemed effortless. His presence was subtle and unremarkable, making no stir to disrupt the proceedings, but his glacial eyes were piercing and intense. None of those few who noticed him could hold that gaze for long. He saw the Princess making her rounds, fulfilling her duty. She seemed… brave. She was shouldering an unpleasant duty with admirable dedication and honor. Klase was impressed.

He also noticed that he had been spotted by one of the guards, shortly after the princess had gone into the palace to continue her duties. That guard and he exchanged a brief but meaningful look that culminated in an exchange of subtle nods. Then the guard went inside, passing a whisper from one guard to another until one whispered in the Princess’ ear. She began working her way out of her social obligations and proceeding inside. Klase waited for a few minutes before he followed her into the palace. Once he entered, one of the guards gave him directions to the study where the princess would be waiting.

As he walked through the halls, following directions toward the study, all he could think about was the balance. The balance upon which survival depended. Not his survival, not even his country or kin, but the human species as a whole. His work thus far had brought back valuable goods from the brink of oblivion but he was bound to keep secrecy until his King decided to make it public. His sword had ended one small threat to human survival but not before it had exacted a terrible cost. It twisted his innards and the weight of his knowledge felt as though it would snap his very bones. But, a deep breath restored his composure, pushing the weariness and frustration deep into the brilliant depths of his gaze and it was with grace and poise beyond his station in life that he approached the study door. He was surprised that there was only one guard outside, a token of honor and care in a dark and distracted day. The guard opened the door and motioned for him to enter but did not announce his arrival with anything more than a discrete knock on the door’s frame. It seemed that this was to be an informal meeting after all.

His first sight of the princess had been in public and her demeanor had been perfectly maintained. Here too, in private, her composure held strong. Yet, it was too perfect to be anything but a mask. Klase could not blame her. He too was wearing such a mask. He greeted her with a perfect bow, precisely and genuinely executed. His voice too was respectfully soft, lacking any trace of the boisterous spirit and wild warrior pride that his countrymen had displayed prior to his arrival in the city. Yet, he was no mere bumpkin from the backwoods and his eyes seemed to be by turns, piercing and gently reserved. He knew she was a young woman who had secrets to keep, and respected them and her, even as he kept his own mysteries closely guarded.

“Princess, I am Klase Gale. I was told that you wished to see me.”

He was not blind to her beauty, but it did not confuse him. He knew of her wealth, but it did not entice him. He understood that his position would allow him to demand almost anything, but there was no sign of greed or desire in his demeanor. If anything of his inner state was perceptible through his mask, it was that he was weary and determined. That determination was the focused will of a man who looked at the pitiful tool in his hand and then set to work carving a mountain into gravel without complaint. Here was a commoner who carried the world on his shoulders and didn’t want it to show.

Though, he did find himself distracted briefly by the memory of his father’s words. In particular, he recalled that he was not to reject any woman as a prospect for his ‘wooing’. It was an embarrassing and frustrating thought.

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Valeri's feeling of dread intensified with each step as she neared the dining room, she had received a runner back, shortly ago. Her father had acknowledged that she would be coming, but had said nothing else. Such a few choice words were hardly anything new to the Princess. Valeri knew her father was a very by the book person, who's facade was of formality, and one that hid the true man beneath. The one she called Father. It was not hard to see that Valeri had no fallen far from the tree, at least to herself. For Valeri had a facade too, didn't she?

Her guards halted before a large ornate door, before the door began to open slowly, revealing the splendid room within. It was medium sized room with high ceilings, alabaster stone engravings lined the walls and pillars with a myriad of Exodus art, and to the left of the room there was a large patio area through oval gilted walkways. As she stepped into the room, Valeri was hit with a variety of mouthwatering aromas of cooked exotic food, fresh fruits and gourmet breads. The room held many nobles enjoying finely tailored breakfasts and drinks of all assortments. Food and drink were plated on silver and gold, and sat upon rich mahogany tables, while guests sat in exquisite chairs of the same make. The small details in the wood was astounding, and the very room made Valeri jealous. It was so blatantly stuffed with wealth that she suspected the Exodus royalty wanted to remind everyone of who's kingdom they were in. Devilish but effective. She could only imagine what the Earthican and Luthran delegates thought of such a display.

She was set upon by many people, asking them to sit and eat with them, and servants wondering what they might prepare for her but Valeri politely ignored them or made excuses. She wanted to find her father before even thinking of eating, and after a short search, she found the tall man. He sat outside on the patio, at the faraway table. The morning sun gleamed off his skin, making him almost unnaturally bright as the birds chirped carelessly. She told her guards to leave her, and Valeri straightened herself. With chin held high, she walked over to her father's table and curtsied deeply.

"Good morning, my King. I hope you can forgive me for this sudden appearance, but I thought it might be nice to dine together before the day started." Valeri said in a formal voice, while still holding her curtsy out of respect. She would wait to be spoken to before sitting down.

Clouds from the previous night still hung in the sky although far fewer in number, nonthreatening and tinged pink with the rays of the rising sun. It was a beautiful sight, one even a man as unappreciative of such art as Erasmi could take a moment out of his day to marvel at, but it seemed totally at odds with the events of the previous night and the day of the mourning that was to follow. Although there was nothing for the Andorian people to mourn, for not a single one of their number had fallen to the beast, it would be a glaring error to ignore the mood that pervaded this 'festival' and not join in the communal outpouring of misery. It was with this in mind that Erasmi had donned a black tunic, coat and trousers although all bore silver inlays and stitching; after all he was a king.

He was pulled from his thoughts as his daughter approached, dressed in a dress suitable to the mourning but stylish enough that it would serve her other purposes, pale and beautiful as always. He could see the effort she made in addressing him, the formal tone and etiquette she practiced so different from the effortless interaction she made with near everyone else around her. In some ways it was hurtful that they were unable to have a normal father-daughter relationship but such was the price of being a ruler; there were expectations placed on both of them that neither could ignore.

"Ah, my daughter. A good idea, come and sit with me." A servant stepped forward, out of earshot but close enough to catch the small nod Erasmi made at the opposite side of the table, to pull the indicated chair out for the princess to sit. "A night of surprises. You were not kept awake long, I trust?" Food was being brought to the table now, kept ready and warm until his daughter had joined him although he had not called for her, and so only the polite and far more generic conversation could be made until the servants had one again retreated from earshot. As Primfirans they both know the power of information and the usefulness of spies, they would not be so careless as to slip up in an opponent's capital although Erasmi's status and power was clear even here; the tables that had been around his crowded onto the far end of the patio so that he was left in peace with his daughter. "I must attend the ceremonies today, with the Exodus rulers absent," the lack of emotion when he spoke about the absentee monarchs was more noticeable than any sneer could have been, especially to one as clever his daughter, "but there is no such requirement for you. I imagine you can find ways to make use of your day... pursuing goals not yet achieved." The servants had backed away but he still spoke in veiled tones, an arched eyebrow and an amused smile playing on his lips as he hinted at Valeri's romantic advances on the Freyjan princess.

Her father, ever the polite figure, bayed her to sit and so she did, replying to him in kind, "I was awake when it happened." Valeri stated, "Such a tragic event, my heart mourns for those who are aching. I fell asleep with a troubled mind, but sleep came nonetheless." she said sincerely, but also not truly meaning her words. At least part of them, for though she felt sorry for those that lost people, she had fallen asleep more concerned with not bedding Amaya. A thought that still haunted her. She knew it was morally wrong to feel they way she did, but Valeri had come to terms with her nature a long time ago. It was just hard to actually care about those she didn't even know. They were all just names in the end, after their bodies were no more.

Plates of food then arrived, shifting her train of thought to warm delectable aromas. It seemed her father had waited for her, a most kind gesture. She was given a plate of some strange looking fruit and gleaming bread with butter, which she began to pick at delicately as servants finished preparing the meal and withdrew to a respectable distance. Now they would be free to talk more openly and as her father began, Valeri picked up on all of his tones, or the lack of them. The sly smiles and the veiled words, they all held double meanings to a master of the vocal arts. She knew right away he did not like the fact that the Kingdom's rulers were absent at a Festival within their own realm. Such absence even stoked a little anger in her heart. Once again, the Primfiran royalty were being shafted by fools who couldn't even show face. It was not her Father's responsibility, but then again, perhaps others would see the weakness in Exodus, and instead turn to that of Primfira.

Valeri next pat her lips with a silk napkin as she caught her what her father truly meant about her goals. She did not blush, nor did she react other then smiling warmly. He knew of her desire, was it that obvious? But then again, it didn't really surprise Valeri that much. Her parents had always known about her more nightly endeavors, much to Valeri's disdain but they also never tried to stop or hinder them. The King probably surmised that even if he told her to stop, she would just keep doing it anyways. He was right in that regard, she was addicted to her passions and there would be no stopping such decadence. Her mother she had felt far more comfortable talking with, about anything and everything.

"One would think the rulers of a Kingdom would be more involved when tragedy strikes, Father. Such a pity that they put all burdens upon their Princess, and more esteemed guests." Valeri casually stated before taking a bite of mango. She chewed slowly before swallowing and washing the taste down with wine. She didn't really like mango after all it seemed. She started again, "Ah yes, the day. It will be sad, one of mourning. I don't really look forward to it to be honest." she said with little emotion, looking down at her plate as she moved a piece of fruit back and forth with her fork. She looked up at her Father, her face now devoid of expression, "I would try and pursue some goals, but I fear them to be even more illusive then even I had imagined. There always seems to be something getting in my way, an unexpected injury, or a dark beast. I relish such challenges, but I have... certain doubts. Things I cannot control." she finished with a hint of anger. She hadn't really meant to tell her father any of that, it just spilt out, and was very unfitting of her. It seemed Valeri had forgotten what it was like to talk to someone freely, and had taken liberties a little far.

She faked a cough, and sat up straight, bringing the wine glass to her lips again. Savoring every little drop. "Forgive me Father, it seems I'm more tired then I had thought, letting my mouth run wild like that." She started to eat again, trying to shove her embarrassment down with food. She had to stop letting her emotions run amok, especially in public. She shifted in the chair, thoughts of Amaya filling her head. She was beautiful, there was denying that, but Valeri's feeling were solely based on lust, the thrill of getting into bed with her. Amaya was a prize, and nothing more, her hatred for Exodus would not allow anything else, she simply wanted to savor what she could. She needed to relax, it had only been a day, and an overreaction on her part would look poorly on her character. Maybe she would try to enjoy the day after all, see what she could find, maybe even meet Princess Evangeline. Perhaps she would be far easier to conversate with? Later perhaps, for now she kept eating small bites of food, silently waiting for father's reply.

Truly, had he raised such a master of speech craft or had the young princess merely inherited her mother's honeyed words? Erasmi had earned his skill through strife, hardship and much more death than he was comfortable admitting to but in doing so had managed to make life somewhat comfortable for his offspring. It was not his way to shower her with gifts or spoil her, the fine dresses and her luxurious life merely a matter of course for his sole heir but he liked to think that the circumstances in which she had been raised, far softer than his own, were present enough from father to daughter.

"I would like to think you felt able to talk freely to me, at least, Valeri." It was a small reprimand couched in an unspoken feeling of loss at their lack of true connection. Of course that was mostly of his own design, a fault in the nature of his power but also an advantage for Valeri on the day she ascended to the throne herself for such skills would be key in ensuring her survival. He joined her in tasting the wine, enjoying the blend of fruity and spiced aromas that were alien to Primfiran stock, as the rest of the city began to wake from its tortured slumber to a day of mourning. There were surely opportunities to be had, to be exploited, from the event but even the cockroaches of the world had a sense of honour and Erasmi's ruthlessness had its boundaries. No, there would be no politicizing of the beast's invasion. At least not by him.

He looked at his daughter over the rim of his glass, distracted by her own thoughts. Much of him wanted to use the festival as an education, how a ruler of their nation should engage with others to maximize their own position but the father in him wanted to allow her this unique chance to explore. The future may not be so contested as the present and any connections Valeri forged over the coming days would surely influence her own reign, when it arrived. Moreover, he knew the nature of her desire and the steps she would take to reach it and her apparent reluctance to pursue the Freyjan Princess was disappointing, for both of his ever conflicting roles as King and a father. It was a rare moment that he could be the latter while still furthering the former's aims.

"I've never known you to allow circumstance to frustrate your goals, daughter." He placed his wine glass down on the table, still holding it by the stem as he levelled his gaze at the occupant of the opposite chair. "It is said that what is achieved is worth more the longer and harder the road of accomplishment. The world is changing, with this festival, and it is important that we move with it, not just frustrate its attempts at progress. Old enemies may become friends and the reverse may become true as well; allow yourself to be guided by your instincts and desires, Valeri, but do not be consumed by either. You are my sole heir but you are not ruler yet, it is only now that the time you have is permitted for yourself and not for the sole sake of the Kingdom." He picked up his wine glass, signalling that he was finished speaking for now and gave his daughter time to mull over his words. It was rare for them to talk such as this but the death the previous evening and the rapid succession of events were forcing Erasmi to challenge his own view and understanding of the world and perhaps it was time for lost connections to be re-knit? It was a thought which brought back a faint hope, one he thought long forgotten, but also strong trepidation in these uncharted waters.

The Princess visibly perked up at her father's words, a small smile pursed her lips as she listened. Did he really not mind how freely she spoke? In the past she always felt inclined to keep her feelings tight to herself, especially around her Father. But there was something different in his voice with that simple sentence, and it made her feel far more relaxed then she had been. She took another soft sip of the wine in response. What he said next was truly eye opening for Valeri, and she devoured his words with a certain fervor. She thought for a long time, taking bites occasionally and enjoying the small quiet between the two of them. He was right after all, she had never truly allowed inconveniences to get in the way of her goals, there was always another way. She began to realize that she could wait, for patience had been bred into her, and the satisfaction of achieving her goal would be worth it in the end, no matter how long she waited. There was always other pursuits to be had when not focused on the main prize.

It seemed her father wanted her to do as she pleased, rather then worry about things she could not control and let it consume her to inaction. There was also the subtle warning every ruler knew laced in his words. Even if friends became enemies and foes became friends, in the end one could only trust their own counsel. She had to be strong, but not for anyone but herself. Her smile grew into that of a giddy child. Her father, in his own way of saying it, wanted her to be happy, She was touched at this display, perhaps more then he would ever realize. It was a small start, but for once in a very long time, she actually felt closer to her father. She knew not why he had a sudden change of heart, to say such things, but it was a start. One she truly hoped would last, but like he said, Valeri would still be cautious. She had learned from the best after all.

She took another sip, and set the glass down before her. This time when she spoke, she sounded much more like herself, "Thank you, father. Your words are good to hear this morning. It... It means a lot." she finished softly before pausing.

Valeri then dropped her voice to a hushed whisper, "I find myself curious however. You and I both know this Festival is insulting. The cockroach is a jealous creature father, more so then any kingdom could bear to understand.The snakes draw too much attention to themselves. First this Festival, an idea unheard of, then inviting the other kingdoms? It's enough to drive certain people mad. Whatever is to be done I wonder?" Valeri finished with a wide grin on her face. She went back to eating her food, waiting to see how her father might react. She had no intentions to stop him in anyway, if he had plans that was. In fact she was more inclined to help, then anything. After all, snakes were usually killed when caught out in the open.

It was good to see the true Valeri come out of her shell, relaxing in his presence again although the king in him wanted to admonish the two of them for lowering their guard even when around family. If he made such a mistake during his youth then neither of them would be sitting at the table and one of his brothers would be running Primfira into the ground. As he had said, though, times were changing. Primfira itself had grown under his steady hand and there was not a single person who would dare to challenge his authority, or his daughter's claim to the throne. Erasmi had been loyal to his wife, unusual amongst the ruling classes, even after her death and so had no illegitimate children who might hope to claim a title if ever the opportunity presented itself and the network of spies and assassins that he had his wife had built were intensely loyal to him and his family, not merely the throne itself. It was in this time of relative peace that a young woman, or man, should learn who they were before the trappings of rulership descended upon them, constricting their personality so tightly that it would one day burst forth and cause them to misstep fatally. Better for the girl to learn her limits and weaknesses now, while he was still alive to protect her, than to be tripped by them later in life.

"The cockroach?" He mused, swirling the light wine around in his glass and watching the liquid swell up to the lip before flowing back to the base, tidemarks like the poisoned water of the sea on a beach receding more slowly. It was a sign their strength than the Andoran people had made the insult directed at them into a point of pride but it also limited them, forever putting them behind the other races and accepting the disparaging remarks directed their way. "You are not wrong, my daughter. These events are most disturbing to the balance of things which has existed these past few years and for much of your lifetime. The merest misstep by any one of us could tip that balance one way or another and, have no doubt, my dear, that imbalance of any nature would be disadvantageous to us." He drank the rest of his wine and then leaned back in his chair, the glass back on the table, and clasped his hands together across his chest, elbows resting on the arms of his seat. "It is a sign of their ineptitude that the Exodus royals would think to call such an event. In their high moods they will think that the assemblance of all the major players in their capital to be a sign of their own power. They speak of peace and, true, they do seek it indeed but a peace with them firmly in charge. Any alliance they might choose to make would create opposing sides but with the odds in their favour."

He gestured over the balcony, toward the city where bells tolled and the dampening mood of misery was so heavy it would perceptible. The raucous joy and festivities of the previous day had vanished and in its place was a sense of defeat, shared for now in the immediate shadow of tragedy but soon fingers would be pointing to blame and Erasmi had made sure that his people were above all suspicion. His presence on the battlefield the night before, although it was not a Primfiram whom had felled the beast, would speak louder than any speech he could make. "Sometimes, it is wise to allow events to run their course. When buffoons caper about, thinking themselves clever while they trample over their own achievements, the best course of action is to stand back and simply allow them to continue lest one becomes caught up in their stupidity and is beaten by their experience." He chuckled mirthlessly, seeing in his mind's eye the absentee king of Exodus returning to his palace to find his plans in tatters, the Princess holding them together as much as her meager experience allowed in spite of her apparent innate talent for rule. "Children always learn from their parents, especially from their mistakes and it makes them wiser than their forebears. I believe that is none so evident as in the Princess Amaya who has no better example of mistaken leadership than in her parentage but she lacks experience and these events are fast outpacing her ability to control them." He steepled his fingers, touching his index fingertips to his lip in thought as he watched his daughter over the table. He came to a conclusion at last, the plans whirling in his head often needing a willing conspirator but there were better, more honest, avenues to explore first. At least, other than the schemes already in action.

"The other kingdoms will not stand for what has happened last night but it is best that we appear aloof from what will undoubtedly be a heated argument. Perhaps that status as an arbiter will further your own goals, Valeri, opening doors otherwise closed to you. I will allow you to choose which of those you choose to enter through until such a time that our path becomes set.." He stood up, adjusting his jacket from the long time sitting, and made to leave. "Remember, my daughter, that the cockroach does not do well in the light of day. We are not predators and cannot survive without others, despite our hardiness. Taming the snakelet and living off of its power is far preferable to being stepped upon." The veiled incentive given, he left the patio balcony by way of the large open doors with a small guard falling into step around him. Time enough to return to his quarters before Aziza would bring him her progress report. Despite his talk of maintaining the peace it was best it be an uneasy one, lest the bumbling Exodus monarchs actually succeed in setting themselves up as rulers of the known world.

Valeri was most glad that her Father felt the same way, perhaps even more deeply then she had even thought. When her father planned something, he was meticulous to a fault. At least she thought so anyways. He had obviously put a great amount of thought into the Festival and Valeri had faith in her father to do what must be done for their own kingdom. It was nice that he was being so open with her, in that kingly way of is. Exodus could not be allowed to rule over them all, it was unthinkable. The balance between the four kingdoms could not be shattered by the pretense of a false peace. By the time her father left and their exchange over, Valeri knew what she had to do. His final words were enough of a goodbye for her, yet she still did feel a little unsatisfied. Her father was secretive with his plans, but she was also confidant that she would be fine without knowing them. It was sometimes easier to be out of the loop then in its grasp.

She sipped the rest of her wine, feeling the liquid warm her. With a slightly devious smile she got up and went to the balcony to overlook the city. There was work to be done still, for she had renewed confidence in her abilities and now the patience to act accordingly to her station. As her father had said, Princess Amaya was loosing control. Her parents had seemingly abandoned her to rule, and to dictate the Festival. The girl was most likely stressed now more so then ever before, especially with the last nights tragic events. Valeri would wait, for something told her Amaya would break eventually and when people broke they needed help, they needed comfort, a shoulder to cry on. Maybe even a friend to tell secrets too? Only time would tell, but for now, Valeri would wait to see how the days events played out before acting. Maybe with luck Amaya would even contact her, but something told Valeri that it would be unlikely. One could wish though.

She turned around and began to walk out of the doors, now followed by a small retinue of guards. She stopped before leaving the that room, calling a servant to her side.

"Do me a favor, love. Go and find Princess Evangeline. Tell her that I would very much like to meet her acquaintance and if she so wishes, we might walk together if she has desire for some fresh air. That is all." she stated formally. The servant bowed, leaving Valeri to continue on her way. No doubt the Princess would be preoccupied with the tragedy to do anything else, but Valeri would give her an option if she chose to escape the tumultuous events that the day would bring.

It had felt like a nightmare, one of which he could not awake from. The longer Dalious stayed at the scene, the more he realized it was not going away. His friend's body stayed cold with the sun's rise, his weapons stuck to the ground in blood. Looking around, he saw that many others suffered a similar fate.

Eventually he began to move again. He checked his friend's pockets, not sure in why he was searching him but he felt there may be something to find. Nothing, the man didn't even carry a coin pouch. Dalious was about to give up when he found a folded paper in his jacket pocket, a bounty letter. Opening it up he quickly read it, it forcing a smile out of him in the process. "Always the persistent one," he muttered. The man was technically a prince, yet he still took on odd jobs and did his own field work. The Mother probably wouldn't approve, but he enjoyed the mercenary work all the same. The Mother...the thought of speaking with her had just occurred to him.

The pirate's head ached even more as he pocketed the letter and stood with his makeshift cane. While the bodies were being loaded up in carts and wagons, he made sure to accompany and help carry his own share of the weight. He stayed with his friend's corpse, through the long ride in the city and to the destination. The burial itself would be up to the parents, but for now the soldiers would leave the body in a temple near where the ceremony would take place later on. This is where the soldiers would tell the Mother to come should she want to see her son before. His body was covered with a royal fur blanket and the blood was cleaned up from his face.

Dalious sat and awaited the Mother, knowing she would come. It was impossible to predict how she would act, he just knew none of it would be good. He simply stared at his dead friend lying on a stone table, knowing only more death would come from this. He sighed and said a silent prayer in his thoughts.

The night had been restless, sleep never came easy in that large, lonely bed. The room itself paled in comparison to the more lucrative ones, but it was far better then what Angeline had ever been use too. Her bed back in Luthra was hard and comfortable, here the bed was soft and uncomfortable. A stark comparison of how different the Exodus world was. Yesterday had been interesting for Angeline. Once again she had to solely rely on herself, something she was no stranger too. Once Avidan had left the tournament, to check on Dalious of all people, she had not seen him the rest of the night. It was strange, but not unexpected. Avidan was headstrong man, this Festival was trying even for her, and she could only imagine what it would be like for a man who hasn't seen civilization in decades. He had his reasons, but Melchior was a different story entirely. She had noticed at first, when conversating with other Nobles, trying to strengthen ties to her Kingdom, how absent her son was.

She hadn't seen him at all during the Festival, a very maddening prospect. Of course he wouldn't listen to dear Mother, he was one of the only few who were capable of such a feat. His duty was to be here, find a Princess to woe, and marry the girl. Not drink himself to a stupor in a tavern. She had sighed many times that night, between her fierce scowl and drinking. Once the tournament had started, and Avidan left, she recognized that it had been rigged, but said nothing. It was too good to be true really, and Angeline couldn't believe this was how the Exodus would so blatantly preform. She would have to tell Avidan when next she saw him.

Once the tournament was over, and feeling considerably drained, she confined herself to Luthra quarters. It was a large room, with not much in the form of any wealth. Exodus probably thought they would steal anything not tied down. The bed was large for just one person, a fact that was not ignored. Did they actually think the Mother and Father were a couple? Her disdain for Exodus grew further with each passing minute. They were fools, all of them. She sent out her guards, telling them to find Melchior for her, but even she knew they would fail.

Now, her face was blank as she sat reading the note that had been stuck on the door. In the night the unthinkable had happened, an event that even Angeline hadn't thought possible. One of the Mutated Bears, fearsome creatures, it had came in the night and slaughtered all that came into contact with it. A part of her hoped it had murdered many Exodus soldiers, as punishment for their little display in the tournament.

She began to get ready for the day, dressing fittingly for the occasion in just one of the black dresses she had brought. Her makeup was light, and her hair was let to hang loose. As she finished, she could not help but wonder where her son was. She doubted he would have been involved with the bear, probably too drunk to really even move from where he fell.

She left her room, walking across the hall to the room she knew her son had been assigned.

She knocked.

There was no reply, so she opened the door to find the room holey untouched. Melchior had never been there it seemed. Her anger was immeasurable, her boy was an idiot, and she had a few choice words for his hungover self to bear once she found him. She left the vacant room in disgust, but stopped in her tracks when she saw a few Exodus guards knocking on her own door.

"What's the meaning of this?" she said while walking over to them.

The guards turned to her, both with solemn expressions. They wouldn't look her in the eye. The older of the two spoke, "You are the Mother, correct?" he asked.

"Of course I am, who else could I be?" she said angrily. She had just about had it with Exodus.

The guard sighed, "I bring ill tidings, my Lady. We... We were able to identify one of the bodies from the attack. I'm sorry, so very sorry, but Prince Melchior was killed in the night."

She blinked, shaking her head slowly. Her angry expression contorted into a mix of disbelief and that of sorrow. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it. She couldn't believe it, she didn't want to. Melchior wasn't dead, he couldn't be.

"S-show me." came her shaky voice.

---

The long, arduous walk to the temple felt as if each step was a mile. She held her head high with each crushing step, her heart was burdened with weight she had never felt before. They entered the Temple, walking past several corpses with blankets covering their bodies. At the end of a hallway that felt as if stretched on forever, there was a doorway and through it sat tables with more bodies. These were covered in finer blankets.

When she saw a familiar face sitting next to one of the bodies, her heart sank. Her throat felt like a lump as tears began to fall from her blue eyes. Her fingers trembled as she touched the fabric, pulling it back until she saw the pale face of her son. Her little Mel.

The lump in her throat was replaced with a heartbreaking wail as she cradled her boy's head in her hands. Touching his cold skin for any reaction, any sign that he might still be alive. But there was nothing.

"No no no no NO!" she cried out, "My son... My boy..." Angeline's voice broke as she began to weep over her dead son. She cried and cried for what felt like hours, the immense pain she felt, all consuming. Never in her life had she shown so much emotion, and the years of holding everything in popped like a cork. Chief among those emotions was her anger, and it was rising like a volcano before it erupted.

Without looking away from Mel's face she spoke aloud, her voice raw, "Why? Why did he die?" She turned to look at Dalious, her tears had stained her black eye shadow and her eyes were red with grief.

"Why are you here, Dalious?"

Dalious stayed silent. He had a lot of time to think of something to say, but in the end decided on saying nothing. For a moment he wanted to hug her and weep with her, but it was not his place to do so. Having no mother or father himself he looked up to them, but he knew the difference. Still, he was here for them still.

"I've nowhere else I'd rather be, my lady," he said calmly, his gaze stayed on her son. "He was my best friend, my only friend." He took a moment to clear his throat, then pulled out the bounty letter and set it on the table's side. "I found this on him, I think he was pursuing it on the side. Maybe that's why he was out there so late. I'm sure he would have brought me along if I hadn't lost him in the festival. I ended up getting thrown into the arena, then some healer afterward brought me to a ...her, friend's house to stay. I found him just before dawn, the bear was dead then as well."

He finally took his gaze away and looked to her. "If there is anything I can do, anything at all. I am here for you."

She did not reach out for the paper Dalious tried to give her, it was meaningless. A thousand different thoughts flooded into her head as she listened to Dalious speak. Angeline clung to his words, desperately trying to find some justification for her Melchior's death. Rational thoughts were quickly being pushed away by irrational feelings, and the only explanation she was receiving simply just wasn't good enough. She looked at the man before her, alive and breathing, then back to her son who was lifeless.

Her anger boiled over in that instant, and she lashed out at the only person who she could blame. Whether it was his fault or not, in that moment Angeline no longer cared.

Her breathing became erratic as she stood up straight and looked at Dalious with intense hatred, her voice was a Mother's scorn, "Lost him..? You LOST HIM? The Prince of Luthra? MY SON? My ONLY SON!" She yelled, moving around the table in Dalious' direction. "By all accounts you shouldn't have even been in the tournament! Yet there you were! Helping an Earthican WHORE no doubt! I don't care that you were wounded Dalious! I don't care! That's no excuse! Why didn't you search for him? You SHOULD have searched for him! You didn't even try!" She continued her ramblings, coming to stand directly in front of Dalious, her hands balled into fists at her side as she looked up at him.

"You should be ashamed to call yourself his best friend, Dalious. Where were you when your 'friend' needed you most? Not by his side, no, not with him. You were probably out fucking some whore or drinking yourself into a stupor instead! Why weren't you with HIM!" she shouted, slapping Dalious across his right cheek. There was a deep silence in the room that followed, and with that quiet, her anger washed away.

She felt numb now, the absence of feeling felt like drowning. Angeline let her hands drop to her sides limply. She looked up at Dalious, her tear stained face devoid of any emotion. Her voice was broken, and hauntingly desolate as she spoke next. "You should have been there for my son, not for me, not now. I never want to see you again. That's what you can do for me, Dalious. Do you understand?" Angeline then turned away from him and back down to her son.

Dalious stood stone still until she turned away. He grabbed the crumpled up letter and pocketed it, then nodded. "I understand." With that, he walked out of the room and made way down the long tunnel toward the outside. He had shamed both the Mother and Father in less than two days, something that used to never bother him because Melchior was always there to make things right again. Those days were no more. He knew his bad influences over their son had left him with a tainted image of himself, but even with everything, he looked up to them as if they were his own parents. Now that was lost and he was all alone again, a thought which angered him.

Pausing just before exiting out, he pulled out the bounty letter one more time and looked it over. Melchior had written down an address of where he believed this gang to be hiding just under the text that read 'Dead or Alive'. Without the Mother and Father there to hold him back or keep him well behaved, he decided to honor his late friend by pursuing this bounty. He knew he would need some help, however, but at the moment didn't much care whether he would live or die. The festivities were a good time, but they were only a distraction for things to come. It was time to implement a bit of chaos.