[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/231109/0ba929c62ce0023295985d603785fcba.png[/img][/center][hr]Panic welled within her as Dom’s cry cut short. Ionna zeroed in, dashing low across tabletops as she watched two armored assailants close in on her Scion. Alas, even at a hopping sprint she was too slow—but someone else was much quicker. Shadows fell upon one of the assailants, and shortly after, the second fell to a similar assault. Quick, gruesome work. The umbral figures of His Holiness Mirandola and Sir Chaudoir drew in close to Dom. 

A smile flicked through her. She’d had a good feeling about those two, it was nice to see it proven right. That relief was short-lived however as a loud, almost mechanical whine nearly sent her tumbling to the ground. Her prosthetic arm went slack for a moment, and it took a conscious effort to wend her mana back through it, like slipping a hand back into a glove. She squeezed the metal fingers, flexed the elbow; everything seemed in order again, but…

No time. She came to a sliding crouch on the table beside the trio, head on a swivel for more attackers. 

 “[color=E40040]Glad you guys are okay![/color]” she said. On the other end of the ballroom, reinforcements finally arrived, headed by the lady of the hour herself, Dame Irina. Ionna had almost forgotten what it felt like to be glad to see her. 

Civilians were channeled out, and in her ear their mentor’s voice gave them clear commands. Get the Scions out, meet at Stern Hill. She scanned the crowd, mental tally ticking, and an anxious pit formed in her stomach. She chewed her lip, looking down at Kasper and Zacharie. 

Incepta, this was gonna get her in trouble. 

“[color=E40040]Dom, go with them,[/color]” she said, taking the other gently woman by the shoulders. “[color=E40040]Stay together and get to Stern Hill, I’ll meet you there.[/color]” Her attention turned then to the Scion of Shadow and his Templar. “[color=E40040]We still don’t have eyes on Nadine or Ulysse. I’m gonna track them down and bring them to the rendezvous point. Stay low, stay safe, stick to the…uh…well, you know.[/color]”

With a final pat of assurance, Ionna left the trio behind and dove back into the ballroom. With the light pouring in from the main hall, things were much clearer. The assailants tangled with Irina’s reinforcements, and though Ionna would have loved to stop and lend a hand, her duty right now was to find the Lightning duo. Templars protect Scions. In all likelihood Nadine was evacuated already, and she and sir Jacinth were drinking tea at Stern Hill while the royal forces prepared to eradicate everyone that looked like a gaming laptop. But that feeling in her gut, looking out at the crowd. Every head accounted for but two. 

No. One. 

She came across the prince and his Templar, both in one piece, but the relief was short lived. At Lucas' feet she saw him splayed out on the ground in a pool of blood. Ulysse. Her throat clenched, she knew immediately it was too late to do anything for him but choke out a quiet apology. The mourning would have to wait. Ulysse was dead and Nadine was nowhere to be found—they had her. Ionna looked back towards the doors, brows furrowed. Irina would have stopped them if they’d taken her that way, which meant…

There wasn't time to stop. The prince looked rough, but Tyler was with him, which was more than could be said for the Scion of Lightning. She found the broken window closest to Ulysse’s body and vaulted through it, shaking off glass and dust as her feet hit the ground. Her eyes scanned the dirt, searching for footprints, or blood, any kind of trail the moonlight might reveal. 

“[color=E40040]Lady Lucienne![/color]” she shouted into the night, starting off away from the manor. Even if the Scion couldn’t respond, if she could only [i]hear[/i] that someone was looking for her, it might be enough. “[color=E40040]Nadine![/color]”[hr][@Scribe of Thoth][@Olive Fontaine][@Abstract Proxy]