"I feel like you're underestimating me just a little." Ruli argued, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. He'd had his fair share of show-downs against fully grown Kartaians who had mastered their abilities and survived thus far, afterall.

As Kire asked about Ysaryn, Ruli pressed his lips together, looking less than thrilled about the revelation. "Need, no. But I think she would help us along. I think time is a factor, now." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before he shoved his hands back into his pockets for warmth. "I think it is. If he's a slave, freedom calls to him whether he knows it or not. I told him I'm like him, and he seemed ... " The word danced on his tongue, but he couldn't find it. Envious? Curious? Lonely? "I want to try, if we find him."

Turning his back on the ocean and its cold wind, Ruli faced Kire. "Supplies? Wood. Food. Maybe fabric. Being able to make new clothing or even a damned coat wouldn't be too bad. Envy's not terrible with a sewing needle."

Kire rolled her eyes. “It was hypothetical. I was putting myself in his frame of mind. You’re too stubborn to die that way, I wager.” She glanced momentarily at him shoving his hands in his pockets again, clicking her tongue with a frown, even though she herself had forgotten to bring something warm to wear to Cordon again. “Alright. I’ll trust you on that. They probably won’t have him up and about like that, given his appearance, and especially if he’s not sticking around by choice.”

Like Ruli, she turned away, ready to head back into the city. “Yes. Wood. Then, lots of food, if we want to get Ysaryn in a good mood, definitely. Fabric for clothes, quilts, mattresses, yes. There should be more than one person proficient in sewing back in the caves, right?” She was about to say that Envy wasn’t exactly in the best shape to be handling needle and thread, but thought better of it. “Maybe get yourself a coat already, since you’ll probably be going back here more often on supply runs. You might hold your own against a Kartaian but that doesn’t mean you won’t get sick. Colds and fevers spread fast in a small camp, you know.” She paused, then added, “Wouldn’t hurt to find a bottle or two of liquor, maybe.” She was glad for the distraction of their other more mundane tasks; it would help her get her mind away from the thought of wrapping her arms around the slavers’ necks.

The city was such a stark contrast to what they had left behind in the slums that Kire was almost overwhelmed by it. The strong smells of food, drink, and flowers that accompanied the merrymaking contrasted so sharply with the stink of the warehouse that it fouled up her mood even more, as if it were everyone else’s fault that they had no knowledge of what lay at the outskirts of their own city. By then, it was too late for Kire to get the fresh seafood she had wanted to bring back, especially now that the city, nearing the culmination of the festivities, was at its busiest. This didn’t help her disposition at all. She was silent and glowering by the time the people had begun to get ready for the arrival of Itallo’s bride and her entourage. Apparently, this parade was to be some sort of ceremony in itself: the bride would arrive, guarded in a carriage Itallo had sent ahead for her, and the lord and his men would meet her halfway at some designated point in the city for him to formally welcome her into his protection.

“Right. We better hurry and finish up,” Kire said. “I’ve heard so much about this lord bastard, I at least want to see his smug little face, and that Gemini brat he has with him.”

Ruli smirked. Too stubborn to die. "I'm not too bad. Nor is Sid. And theres bound to be others in the tent city that have the skills." He added, realizing a bit in delay that there had to be a tailor somewhere in the refugee camp.
The mention of catching a cold and sending illness spreading through the camp made him look down at his flimsy clothing, and he frowned. Dammit. She was right. He wasn't bred for cold weather, and would easily fall victim if he continued to be stubborn. That, and bring the reason some sickness spread through camp was not another item he wanted on his list of misdeeds.

"Fine." Ruli grumbled. "We'll look for clothing." He debated on repeating his earlier demand of 'no boots', but he wasn't sure he could get away with avoiding that any further.

He followed her through the city, taking it all in. It was nothing like Ziad had been. Loud, brilliantly colourful, variety upon variety of people, food, classes, and races. He wasn't accustomed to it, but he enjoyed it. It was nice to be able to observe something entirely unknown, yet quite familiar. A busy city. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. Missed people. He felt the long-dormant desire to sit in a pub or tavern and watch the day unfold. People meeting friends, chasing children, lovers whispering to one another as they tucked themselves away into corners so they wouldn't be bothered. The smell of body odor, tobacco, burnt meat, and stale ale.
The excitement wrapped around the arrival of the bride-to-be was electric. Contagious.

Kire's sudden statement about wanting to hurry caught him off guard. She'd fallen so silent, he's nearly forgotten her presence, and did not notice that she looked as if she felt the exact opposite as he did. While he wanted to immerse and idle, Kire's countenance stated clearly that she wanted to pinpoint her task and get out.
Really, considering all that was happening, he couldn't blame her.

"Yes, ma'am." He muttered, directing them along a crowded street, eyes landing on the many hanging wooden signs that boasted fabrics and sewing supplies.

The first place they stepped into was crowded and loud, full of chattering women, young and old, trying to get last minute supplies to adorn themselves with in order to be presentable for the lord, and try to catch the bride's eye. Surely, she would need some small court of her own ladies, right? Of course, and only the most well dressed would be considered.
Ruli took one, five-second look before he turned and wheeled Kire out again. He might miss people, but he wasn't going to fight a bunch of clucking women for a bit of cotton.
The second, much further down the street, was far less crowded. Only a handful of women circled, one dragging a young boy along. He looked miserable, his eyes fixed on the window as if he'd much rather be out playing or looking for bits of food to eat. Deciding this place was much easier to swallow, Ruli stepped up to the first table, fingering through the neatly organized spools of fabric. They were aligned by colour and material, which made it easier. He went first to the light fabrics, gathering two spools of the paler colours, then moved to the medium material for the cooler nights at the caves, and then a few heavier fabrics. He asked Kire for opinions on colour here and there, as he, himself, preferred muted tans and browns, but knew others had more preferences.
Envy, for instance, enjoyed obnoxious colours and patterns. It was for the elf that Ruli grabbed a spool of a bright yellow and black plaid and a deep wine-red fabric with bright while paisley designs.

Arms full, they stepped back out into the street, a few boxes of thread and sewing needles tucked away into his pockets. "We might need to swing back." He muttered. "Or, we can go grab food supplies, and then return just for lumber."

Any other day, Kire would have enjoyed this atmosphere very much. To her credit, when Ruli muttered in response to her prodding to hurry, Kire tried to keep her temper in check. She was glad that he decided they not stay at the first shop, which was too crowded for her liking. At the second one, it didn’t particularly surprise her that Ruli picked more muted colors. When asked—and she was a little surprised that he did bother to ask—she picked out a few more colorful pieces that looked like they would go with the others he had selected, nothing too loud or obnoxious. To her consternation, he picked out a few very loud designs afterwards, and she briefly entertained the notion that he did it just to annoy her. The silver lining, though, was that it had succeeded in temporarily taking her mind out of the dark mood she had been in.

“Food, then swing back,” Kire replied, carefully rearranging the rolls of fabric in her arms. “I think there was still a bakery open—” Men on horseback trotted down the street, telling the bystanders that the procession would be starting soon, and to make sure not to block certain passages in the city. “—on second thought, let’s hurry back now. I don’t want to be caught in the middle of the mob with my arms full.” As they made their way through the crowd that had become almost frantic in their excitement, Kire saw that shops along this street were closing, anyway, with their curious owners wanting to be in line to see the procession. They had time to make it back to see it, Kire surmised, if the two parties were starting from opposite ends of the city. And if this lord was peacocking in front of this large crowd, they wouldn’t be in a hurry to show off his new plaything, Kire thought, already feeling a little sorry for whoever was going to marry this slimy nobleman. She was almost tempted to ask Ruli that they just find the nearest deserted alley for their disappearing act.

When they got back, the procession was underway. The people nearest to the street all had in their hands what she recognized as pure white orchids—a feat, Kire knew. Orchids were her favorite, and she knew the difficulty that went into their care. Suppose that’s what the botanist was so pressed about. “Here he comes!” came an excited whisper from one onlooker, and a murmur of anticipation vibrated throughout the crowd. The ladies right next to Kire giggled, as if they were the ones about to meet their future groom. “See a better spot?” she muttered to Ruli, though there was little chance of that. She could already see the banners of Cordon flying, the standard bearers signaling the beginning of Lord Itallos’ train. “Of course. Bloody well marching so slow it’s like a funeral,” Kire muttered under her breath. A distant trumpet, coming from the opposite end of this street, indicated that the bride’s own party was on approach.

Kire reached for Ruli’s wrist, gripping it tight, her eyes wide. Her gaze darted back and forth, her mind buzzing like a bee’s nest. That feeling. It’s back! But where’s the source? The taste of Gemini magic filling her mouth and nostrils—and something else. The trumpets blared again, this time coming from both sides. On one end, finally, she saw the man of the hour: Lord Itallo Reynard, riding a resplendent white stallion, in bright red robes, a simple gold necklace with a locket dangling from his neck, a ruby ring on his finger. Kire’s gaze lingered on that piece of jewelry for a few good moments.

He smiled warmly at the crowd, an orchid pinned to his collar. It would have looked like too simple an ensemble for a show-off lord if it weren’t for the red and gold cape draping down from his shoulders. The lord himself was well-groomed, his curly hair tamed and slicked back, his beard trimmed close, his skin nicely tanned. His eyes seemed tired, but he hid it well behind his easy smiles and his manner. There was something—off about him, but the sensations in Kire’s mind weren’t coming from him primarily, no. Or no, that wasn’t it. She was confusing it for something else. “Ruli. There’s—I can’t explain it, but there’s more than one here. What’s going on?” she whispered, the last more to herself as she scanned Itallo’s side of the procession. There were other lords behind him, the Councilmen of Cordon. Where was the Gemini?

“The bride! The bride has arrived!”

You are mine, Akire, My Wyvern.
Kire gasped. That voice—the memory came unprovoked, save for a wave of a familiar aura. Kire turned sharply towards the bride’s side of the street as the lady’s carriage halted. The first person to emerge was a young man, green eyes set on a face too placid and cold for the celebratory air around them. His hair, too, was slicked back like his lord’s, though he wore simpler garb. That was the presence she had felt in the city, and the signature that was faintly present in the warehouse. Kire glared at him, committing his appearance to memory, then stopped at what he was wearing on his hip. Her eyes widened. She hadn’t let go of Ruli’s wrist, and her other hand was gripping her sword.

It was the hunting knife she had left behind in Ziad, when the Kartaians tried to kill them both. Kire’s lips parted in surprise, but she had no time to put it into words for Ruli, because the young Gemini they called Gavin had just bowed to the bride, his hand extended for her to take it as she disembarked.

She was definitely a beauty. Deep black raven hair pinned delicately up in a simple but elegant style. She wore a simple silk dress, head bowed as she stepped down, but when she stood straight, the quiet confidence of royalty was in her stance. She smiled down at the boy, who smiled back without warmth as he stepped away. The woman’s pale face scanned the crowd before turning to Lord Itallo, who had trotted his steed up to the carriage. Her eyes, almost glinting like rubies, stood out against the pale ivory of her skin. “My Lord Itallo,” she purred, curtsying. Itallo bowed low, took her hand, kissed the cold fingers.
“My Lady Akuma.”

The hand that held Ruli’s wrist shook.

He'd had the same idea; leading them into an alley to avoid fighting the crowd all the way to the wall. He held out his arm for her guiding her a few steps as he made sure no one was looking their way, and then they vanished. He brought them back to the wall, however, sure they would be out of sight. Already, the streets were so crowded they had trouble making their way through. He reached out and gripped the fabric of her shoulder to avoid losing her. Despite making her appearance, even he would have trouble picking her out of a crown unless she was wearing that thoughtful frown on her face.
Which she was, Ruli noted as he glanced back at her while he elbowed his way through. They only made it a dozen or so yards before they were trapped, and he tugged her closer to avoid losing sight of her. He could only shake his head when she asked about a better spot; there was nothing. Unless, of course, they decided to make their way on top of a building. He wouldn't be able to do it, but it seemed her own abilities would allow her to take them up there.
But, Ruli ignored the temptation, there was no need to isolate themselves that drastically.

As Kire grabbed hi wrist, Ruli looked toward her, brow furrowed. She looked like she was trying to spot a troublesome fly, and it was a few seconds before he caught on. She could sense the magic. It hardly surprised him, they knew this Gemini man worked with Itallo, and so he was bound to be here. And when Itallo arrived, he was precisely what Ruli had built him up to be in his head. Elegant, greased back, well dressed. Though, admittedly, he wore far less flashy jewelry than Ruli expected. A locket and a ring. Ruli's eyes lingered on the ring for a short moment, wondering why that piece, before he tore his eyes away and scanned the crowd.

"What do you mean?" He asked as Kire's voice met his ears over the roar of the crowd. For a reason he couldn't explain, he pulled her closer, her tight grip on his wrist shrinking the space between them as he pulled his arm against himself. The look on her face was enough to tell him to keep his eyes open.
"That's him." He bent to whisper when the Gemini man appeared. Somehow, knowing now that this man had been involved in Ysaryn's abduction, that his green eyes were one of the few details she could recall, burned in his blood. He could picture the man's cold and empty face as he stood over the helpless and drugged elf, the screams of countless others echoing in the background of the unknown warehouse. Could see the Gemini raise the blade he wore at his hip, poised to cut open the elf for his experiment.
"Wait a minute." Ruli blinked, attention back on the blade. "Isn't that..."

His question was drowned out, the voices rising as the bride emerged. And Ruli felt the world stop.

He could smell plums. Feel a cool graceful touch along his cheek. Could smell the strange floral scent he could now identify as the strange looking white flowers everyone carried. Suddenly his ears could hear no excited voices, but a cold, murderous laughter. He went pale as her beautiful face turned their way, her impossibly gorgeous eyes scanned the crowd. If she spotted his face, she gave no sign, no pause, as she turned instead to her husband-to-be, and the Lord kissed the fingers Ruli had grown to know so well.

Kire. Don't forget Kire. Ruli was barely aware of her grip on his wrist. Get out. Get away from her. Run. Run! Ruli turned and grabbed Kire's hand on his own, ensuring she couldn't let him go or fight him as he pulled them both into the emptiness that was the cold, black shadows.

They emerged in the oasis.
He hadn't been sure where to take them. Not to Ziad, where they would be traced. Not to the mountains, in case something had seen them and was able to follow, somehow, some way. This was it. This was his only option.

Ruli held onto her, refusing to let her go, lest she portal back to them, to her, to the danger that now coated Cordon. Visibly pale even with his dark skin, Ruli stared at the water, listening. To the water. The trees rustling just so. To the roar of his blood in his ears. To her breathing.
"Cordon is doomed." He whispered.

If I leap now, I can cut them down both. Kire trembled, her body barely containing her rage, her anguish, the impulse to spring and kill the woman that mirrored her face. She was back, over six months ago, to the beginnings of her hellish hunt for Ikegai. She could almost feel her own abdomen splitting open, the foul smell of his caverns. The dolls. The murderous urge she had done her best to stifle earlier came rushing out, and any moment now her body would give in.

Except she found her hand gripped tight and pulled, right before they plunged into icy darkness. A few heartbeats later, they emerged in the oasis. It looked different now under the light of the late afternoon. A part of her wanted to cry out at him, ask him why he denied her the opportunity to strike, but the cold had also partly turned her sharply from the impulse. That, and seeing Ruli's expression, feeling the way he gripped her hand, a silent plea to keep her there. It would be an easy thing to rip herself out of his grip, and he should know that, but Kire pursed her lips instead and stayed. She only realized how much she was still trembling then, now that someone else was touching her.

She heard his whisper, and she felt the fear in him, knew it would be like waking up to the worst moment of his life. They were both relieving nightmares. There was something else too that was peculiar about his touch, but right now other things took precedence. Firmly, but carefully, she squeezed his hand before tugging herself free, standing in silence beside him for a while afterward, looking at the water just as he waz. "Ruli," she said softly, breaking the silence, "I have to finish this." She turned to him, solemn. "Both of them together, this is my best chance of finding him and ending them all. I made my promises, and I need to keep them."

She stepped towards the water, took off the silver ring to pocket safely, and crouched down. She needed to see her own face, reassure herself, ground herself in her own personhood. She was here, she was herself. Kire scooped up some water and washed her scarred face, staying there a few moments. She turned, still crouching, towards Ruli. Her real face may not be what he needed to see, but she needed him to see her without illusions, if for nothing else but her own reassurances. Ikegai had succeeded in making her fear her own appearance, make her feel alone and hated for the look of her alone. She was used to being disliked or hated for her actions; she could take that. But he had taken away a part of her to use. It was a different kind of violation, but violation it was.

"I had to fight them, you know. The dolls. Like her, but with some flaw or other. They were more like the dead Kartaian doll, just puppets. Not like--her." She breathed deeply, rubbing her face. "Over and over, I cut them down when he sent them after me, or ended their twisted, miserable existence when he left them for dead because they came out too wrong. They aren't particularly difficult to fight. But I had to watch these bodies fall to my sword, all of them echoing me. Like killing myself over and over. He had trapped me, once, came close enough to open me up and try to make me his. Like what almost happened to Ysaryn. I fought back before that could happen, but again he had blood magic at his side to help him escape."

She looked back down at the water, touching the scar on her left eye. "You're right. She's flawless." Kire spat out the word.

His heart wouldn't stop racing.

The smell of the flowers. Orchids. He'd never put a name to the smell before. It was such a subtle thing. And plums. Why plums? Why had his mind always gone to plums when she was near him? When her ruby eyes settled on his face, he had always been transported to a tall tree, where he basked in the shade, the taste of plum on his tongue, juice dripping down his chin.
Now, he could only taste ash on his tongue. Smoke and burnt flesh in his nostrils. Filling his lungs. Choking him. Screams filled his ears, overpowering the roar of his rushing pulse.

"Ruli."

His name, in Kire's voice, and hers, ripped him from his shock. He wasn't holding her hand anymore, he noticed, but he wasn't sure when she'd pulled herself free. He stood, his arm still slightly extended, as if waiting for something else. Someone else to grab him. Her words were muddled, like she spoke them underwater. Ruli blinked at the bright sand, trying to ground himself.
Slowly, as she strode past, he pulled his feet from the boots and buried them in the sand, feeling the sun-warmed grains burn against his skin, still so chilled from the coastal town. The warmth spread through him, bringing him home, back to his sun and his desert.

When Kire spoke again, it was clear and firm. As she spoke, he kept his gaze on the ground, on the sand that was his home, his birthright. Until, when he heard her speak of her near escape, how Ikegai had almost taken her, torn into her like he'd nearly done with Ysaryn.

The sight of her face made his heart skip.
He took a small, sharp intake of breath as Akuma's face stared back at him. So different, yet so identical. I hate you. Ruli heard his inner voice shout. I hate you. I hate you. I hate your face.

He swallowed, releasing the breath he'd been holding as Kire turned away from him again, removing that face, her face, from his line of sight. Instead, she peered at it, her marred reflection, and complimented her. Flawless. Akuma was flawless. Beauty, grace, coolness, everything to be awed and idolized. No wonder Itallo, no wonder Cordon, had praised her, worshiped her. He had, too. He would have done anything for her smile, for her kiss, for the way she trailed her fingers over his cheeks, as if counting the sharp molars beneath like a prize.

"No." Ruli said quietly, his hand reaching up to rub at the scratch marks down his cheek. "She isn't real." It was said more to himself than to Kire. The woman whose face Akuma wore with such perfection. Such flawlessness. "She's not real. She's a puppet." A tool. She is all Kire was supposed to be to this madman, but less. because she wasn't genuine. She was a pawn. Ruli inhaled again. If Akuma managed to break the shackles and be free of Ikegai's control? "Holy Gods." Ruli muttered, crouching down into the sand and and covering his face with his still-cool hands.

It hurt. Deep in his chest. To see her again. To see her smile. To see her bow. Ruli inhaled slowly, furious at himself for being envious of Itallo. Envious of anything Akuma smiled at. Whomever she touched. He was envious, even though he knew her to be a monster. Worse than he was. Just as he was, really, for all he'd done a lifetime ago. "I hate her." He muttered to his hands, willing the envious worm inside of him to wither.

"Good. Then you know how badly I need to kill her." Kire looked him over, though. The way he hunched over, the tremble in his voice, the way his whole self seemed to shrink. She recalled Sid's story, about how they had become vulnerable because Ruli trusted her, so much so that he would vouch for her to his adopted family. What he was feeling seemed more complicated than hate. Kire looked at her reflection one more time, almost glad for the scar on her face, before taking out the silver ring and slipping it back on.

"You do want her dead, don't you?" she asked, though not unkindly. "What is she to you? If we're demanding Ysaryn remember what happened to her, I'd likewise need to know whether or not there's something in the way you feel about Akuma that would hinder the mission. Your help has been invaluable, and I'm grateful for it, but if I have to, I will continue my hunt with or without you. " She stood, feeling calmer now. Maybe it was the oasis, or the excitement in her bones dying down, or maybe it was because they couldn't both break down at the same time. Her mind had clarity now, at least. If Ysaryn asked her question again, Kire would know the answer.

Ruli shook his head in his hands, feeling his cold nose, the scar across his cheeks and jaw, the tightness in his lips. "No." He muttered into his palms. "There is nothing in me that does not want her gone." Ruli looked up, ever so grateful her face was gone, and it was a Ziadi face that looked at him. A piece of home. A hole in him that Akuma had destroyed.

Inhaling slowly, he studied her face. "I want her dead." He whispered, not yet willing to explain, to answer. "But I can't promise I will be the one to do it. If there is a part of me that she still..." Possesses. His chest ached again, and Ruli ran his fingers over his cheeks again, feeling the grooves in his skin. He shoved aside her smile, the scent of her cool skin, and remembered the laughter, the pain. All that she'd done with that beautiful smile plastered on her face.
Kire's Ziadi face stared at him, calm, sturdy. A soldier's face. The rock in the oceanic storm that would rock ships and drown men. Ruli offered her a weak grin. "I am very glad I made you look like Zeke." He said to her. "I miss that look."

She studied his face as he spoke, watching for any sign of wavering resolve once he looked up to meet her gaze. He didn’t need to finish the sentence; she understood. And it lent weight to his desire to see her dead. It wasn’t an easy thing, to wish death on someone who had a hold on you, even if every fibre of one’s being wanted to recoil at her cruelty. She nodded, though she didn’t return his weak smile, keeping the grim determination etched on her face. “Let’s hope you see it in his face again, then.” She stepped closer to him, bent down and offered her hand.

“Come on. Seems my list of people to kill grows longer by the minute.” She allowed a smirk at that, before turning serious again. “I will make you this promise. I will be the one who kills her. It’s my face. I should be the one to hack it off her body. Ikegai, Akuma, and whoever else casts their lot with them. Itallo, the Gemini, Kartaians—they won’t stop me.”

Speaking the Gemini’s name reminded her of the hunting knife in his possession. So many questions. But for now, they needed to go back home. Ruli needs his people.

He lowered his gaze, picturing Zeke again. Knowing the man's hatred for him cut a deep wound, but none that Ruli hadn't expected. Didn't mean he didn't miss his brother. To see that look on Zeke's face again, the calm and battle-ready soldier that had never failed him, never backed down.
You nearly got him killed. He may never fight again.

Ruli dropped his gaze again, but stood without taking her hand. "I'll hold you to that." Ruli said quietly in response to her promise. He couldn't stomach it. The idea of having her face, those eyes, watching him as he took her life. If there was any that deserved it, any name that he'd be glad to add to his list of kills, it would be her.
But it would be a double-edged sword.

Offering his forearm, he glanced around the oasis once again, a last look before he Walked them out of the desert and back to the mountains.

He sought out Envy, the tone alone in his voice enough to provoke Envy to his sealed room, where he sat down and listened as Kire explained what they'd discovered. Behind the elf, the two spools of plaid and paisley fabrics sat tucked in a corner for later.
"Ysaryn, unfortunately, is not here." Envy said after they'd expressed their desire to speak with her. "She took Zeke to the location down south, where we'll potentially move. Its been a few hours, but I don't expect them back anytime soon." He admitted, turning his head from one to the other. He furrowed his brows at Ruli, as if sensing his distress beyond just the soft tone of his voice.

"Now that you know where your enemy is, what's your plan?" Envy asked Kire instead, letting Ruli sit in silence. "Do you think they're going to use this wedding as a way to gather a crowd?"
Ruli's head shot up, his face pointing at Kire. He hadn't considered that. "Would they?" he asked incredulously.
"Personally, I see no reason behind the wedding, otherwise." Envy admitted. "If Ikegai really is so hell bent on controlling his version of you, why let her wed some mortal?" He raised his hand in question. "The wedding is a cover for something."

Kire sat on the floor of Envy’s chamber, thinking it over. “It’s possible. I couldn’t imagine this wedding not having an ulterior motive that would serve her and Ikegai more than it would Itallo or Cordon,” she said, glancing at Ruli before looking at Envy. “They keep talking about big plans for Cordon, big plans for the city, and the wedding is going to inaugurate all this. Gods, that wedding is tomorrow.” She hissed, squeezing her hands into fists, and stewed in her own thoughts for a few minutes.

“We have a few options. Quickest but most troublesome: I could just kill the bride, the groom, and the Gemini at the wedding.” Kire was only half-joking. “But I would still need to find their master. And I don’t like the idea of them taking elves for some secret purpose. Another option, should we be able to track him down, would be to find that half-Kartaian that Ruli and I had encountered and hope he would give us some way in. Track them or follow them to wherever they are taking the slaves, somewhere close to Itallo’s gem mines. If we could ask help from Ysaryn and her people, the better. Blood magic, as I’ve mentioned before, is heavy on resources. Wedding and bedding a lord would assure them that they would have those resources. Compared to Ziad, looking at it from a tactical perspective Cordon might have a lot more to offer. Else, why go through the trouble, as you said.”

Envy still looked very interested in this half-Kartaian, turning his face to Ruli, who looked far less curious at the moment. When he offered no comment, the blind elf faced Kire again. "A wedding slaughter, a guide in a half-Kartaian, or the involvement in Ysaryn's people." Envy repeated the options.
"If we could simply ask Ysaryn," Ruli argued. "The fewer involved, the better."
"Agreed." Envy nodded. "Her tribe is violent and efficient, but hard to control unless the one guiding them is in complete control." It went unsaid that he didn't believe Ysaryn would manage to keep her head in the situation in which they were headed.
"I'll speak to her." Ruli said, though he glanced at Kire. "Unless you'd prefer to. I'm not sure which of us would have more luck."
"Regardless, you should have her reach out to Bolym. Insist that he is required to go. He got her out once, with or without the help of the half-Kartaian. He will do all he can to get her out once more." Envy suggested, running his hand through his dark and uneven hair.

“I’ll talk to Ysaryn,” Kire said firmly, remembering the last conversation she had with elf. “I doubt, however, that there is anything ‘simple’ about asking her involvement in this.” Hopefully, at least, she would be more willing to talk to Kire. “I heard back in Cordon that the wedding would be held in the evening. We have till then to investigate and prepare. I wonder if there would be more soldiers about in Cordon for the safety of the couple. Hmm.” She leaned back, gaze directed at the ceiling as she paused in thought. “So, we’re taking the stealthy approach then.”

It still rankled her, too, that her knife was in the Gemini’s possession. “He has to know to whom that knife belongs. And that means they must know I’m somewhere in this world. At least I don’t think she saw you in the crowd, but we did disappear from there really quickly.”

"No, not in asking her for her help." Ruli agreed. "But I would rather ask her for details rather than inviting her whole tribe to declare war on our enemies."
Our enemies, Envy noted with a slight turn of his head. "Any wedding invites security." Envy said. "The royal wedding we had most recently in Ziad warranted almost triple the security."
"Right, but they were not pleased with the married couple." Ruli pointed out with a muted tone. "In Cordon, they appear to worship both Itallo and his bride." He couldn't say her name. "If she saw me, she gave no reaction. Its not like I'm hard to spot." Ruli added, gesturing to the keffiyeh that was bunched around his neck, pulled down and away from his face.

"How would you find the half-Kartaian?" Envy asked, his mind returning to this strange figure. "You are limiting your abilities, which minimalizes the options you have in getting anywhere easily."
Ruli shot Envy a dirty look the elf seemed to sense, rather than see. "I'll manage." He answered shortly. "If they're after magic wielders, I have one very obvious way in."
Envy inhaled through his pointed teeth. "I advise against that." He said. "Ysaryn said they drug their victims."
"I have managed with worse."
"You don't know the exact type."
"I have a potential ally on the inside."
"'Potential'. You don't know if that has changed or not."
"Nor do you."
"Akuma will know you."
"We don't know if she's directly present."
Envy turned his face toward Kire, pleading, as he held out his arm. You tell him its a stupid idea.

Limiting his abilities? Kire looked down at her hand, remembering how it felt when Ruli gripped it earlier. She knew he had other abilities than just Shadow-Walking, but he always seemed to be too touchy about the subject to actually tell her what it is. With that touch, and Envy’s cryptic remark, Kire had an idea what it might be. Talking about the wedding reminded her of the smell of orchids earlier, and of aura that emanated from Akuma. She smelled like our orchards. Her hands closed into fists again. Orchards, and blood spilled on the grounds.

She looked up again when Ruli talked about an idea he had for getting in. He’s been drugged before? She looked from Ruli to Envy, who clearly didn’t like the idea at all. Now he was turning to her wordlessly, gesturing as if to ask for her help in dissuading Ruli. “It’s incredibly risky,” Kire pointed out. “I’d sooner slaughter the newlyweds in front of their adoring crowd. However.” Here she looked at Envy with an apologetic shrug before turning to Rulitus. “If we’re considering this, how are we going about it? I would need to be following you closely enough so I can get you out in case the half-Kartaian lead didn’t work out the way you thought it would.”

Envy looked annoyed. But he kept his opinion to himself, having no control over two consenting adults in a situation in which he was little more than a sounding board. Ruli blinked at Kire for a second, clearly surprised she was considering it, but he sunk into thought quickly. "We don't have the time to gather the resources for a tracking spell." He realized, which would have been ideal.
"I also don't recommend slaughtering the couple in front of the city. We don't need a war." Envy said, his tone very much portraying his underlying complaint of 'not that you'd listen to me anyway'.
Ruli glanced his way, catching the tone, before he looked back to Kire. "How did you follow Ikegai here? You can track his magic somehow, no? Would you be able to track mine?" He wondered, her blue eyes searching her enchanted face.

“I’m not going to kill them that way,” Kire promised. “I’m not saying ‘yes’ unreservedly, to be clear, and tracking spells and scrying would have been ideal, but we need to get creative with our way in. I would have volunteered to try something similar, but you would have a better chance of Shadow-Walking yourself out. I couldn’t risk losing the Ring.” She crossed her arms, fingers tapping against her arm in thought. “It was a big feat to track him to another world. I can sense magic, and with more exposure to that magic I can recognize its ‘signature’ when I’m within its range. Crossing to another world, though, it took more than one person to cast a tracking spell, with the help of a Seer, and even then it was spotty, given the gap of time and distance. I imagine it would have been more accurate if the spell was cast here, in the same world. It at least led me to the last big ‘surge’ of magic he had used: when the Kartaians used whatever enchantment he had placed on them to resist the sunlight. He might have been there during the slaughter, using his magic, though he must have worn some sort of disguise or glamour then.”

Thinking over his question some more, Kire nodded. “To an extent, yes. I know your signature. The Shadow-Walking, and this illusion you made for me. As I know Envy’s, which I sensed when I stepped into the wards in Ziad and here. But to track it the way we would for a mission like this, absent of a tracking spell I need to be exposed to your magic right before we begin, on a larger extent. Maybe successive Shadow-Walking would do the trick. I can’t be too far from you, either.”

Envy's brow furrowed again, wondering about the ring she mentioned. The one Ruli had made for her? He couldn't understand why a piece of jewelry wasn't worth losing, when she would consider sacrificing his foster-son.
Ruli, noticing the annoyance in the Kartaian's face, muttered quickly in elvish to catch him up. While frowning less deeply, Envy still looked annoyed.

"If I got my hands on supplies, and pulled an all-nighter, I could get us a tracking spell." Ruli admitted. "Or," he hesitated, visibly stumbling on the words, the offer. "...or, I could use magic on you. Harmless, but potent. With your permission."
"Are you practiced enough?" Envy wondered. "Its been years."
"It's..." Ruli was about to argue, them reconsidered. Now was not the time to be cocky and overestimate himself. "I could practice." He muttered instead.

Envy's furrowed brow remained pointed at Ruli for a time, as if weighing the options and possibilities. "What if you had items that were already enchanted? Beacons to one another?"
It was Ruli's turn to look annoyed. "You have something? Here?"
"No." Envy said. "But in Ziad."
Ruli's face fell. "Not an option." He said instantly. "I can't get in there."
"You could."
"Well, I don't want to." Ruli snapped. "Besides, going back there is like sending up a giant signal to the Kartaian."

Envy fell quiet. He hadn't seen the city after the assault. Only knew it was in pieces, the city collapsed over the tunnels he had taken years to form. He knew, somewhere in there, was gold, gems, supplies, and much else that would help them. But he also knew there were people inside. Their corpses resting in what had once been the safest place to be.
"Alright." Envy said. "Practice on me, then, if you choose that option."

Kire looked from Envy to Ruli when he spoke in Elvish, then realized Envy was in the dark about her Ring. “What kind of magic are we talking about?” she asked him. Still being cryptic. “If I knew exactly where I was going, I could get those beacons in Ziad. It might alert the Kartaians, but they know I’m somewhere around here, anyway. If I’m quick enough, I could get it—though, if she knows where your home had been, it might be a trap, too.” It wasn’t that she liked the idea of Ruli being the bait the most, but everything else was a hair more terrible than that. “If you can practice that magic of yours and get it right by the time we need it, yes, I can use that. If that doesn’t pan out, we come up with a new plan.” She looked at Ruli. "I'd need to know what it is, though."