Time: Early Morning, Location: Communal Hotspring

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Anathema stopped a short ways from the stranger. Because of the darkness and distance, she hadn't noticed the woman's tall, rabbit-like ears. 'A blightborn... she realized. Her eyes grew large and her mouth turned into a small 'o'.

There had always been rumors, stories filtered through many mouths with some truth but often as much exaggeration, which had made their way to her ears; however the someone was the first blightborn she had met. The stories would advise her to run, blightborn could--in the rumors would--devour her blood, energy, or something. A part of her nearly retraced a couple of her previous steps as though increasing the distance between them a small margin would offer her any enhanced safety. The curiosity which had driven Anathema so far from her home in the first place threatened to push her into this someone's personal space, to examine closer than is polite, and to ask approximately one-hundred-and-two questions of varying intimacy. Decorum kept her from launching her invasion. She stayed put.

The homesick knot in her throat was untied by the inquisitivity that filled her with excitement and nervous energy, sending her rocking from side to side. 'Doctor...Céline...also new in town.'

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Céline. " a small smile lit her face, "I am just arriving myself. The stage-driver was a rather gruff man who wouldn't take me any nearer town, though I suppose I ought to be grateful he'd taken me as far as he did. I wasn't paying attention on my walk to town and ended up here."

She patted her journal in her pocket, an absentminded, habitual action. While it did not yet contain any significant information, only that which most knew about the blight, miasma, and blightborn, Anathema was fiercely and anxiously protective of the coded book. It's contents would prove heretical if ever deciphered by the deeply religious, like much of Aurelia, like her parents. Anathema would be working at the Academy in Dawnhaven, when she eventually got there. Moving to Dawnhaven was, despite nearing the end of her twenties, the first thing Anathema had done in direct and open opposition of her traditional and religious parents. It was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling. It was comforting to be reminded that the journal was safely tucked in the cotton world of her dress pocket.

"Perhaps we can find another who would be kind enough to perform introductions? she chuckled, "Though, I'll be spending another moment here. I'm not quite ready to brave the cold again." Anathema had never experienced the cold before, having never left the Aurelian capital before leaving for Dawnhaven, so snow was entirely new to her and she had yet to become a fan of it, and loath to leave the hot and humid heaven of the hotspring so soon.

---

Mentions/interactions
Céline @SkeankySnack

Lord Coswain nodded, he saw the quality was hardly what he got in cities but it would do the best, the ink was probably weaker but it would function. He had worked with such things in the past and was not a man who blames his tools. “This will do, frontier life. You make do. Lord Coswain spoke easily now he shook the influence, he must be a rather powerful blightborn.

lunarian, he was asked and nodded. “Lunaris… yes. Lord Castellion Coswain, Royal Guard Order Militium Capitaline Lance veteran Company. I have a town house in the Capitol.” He spoke, seeing no reason to hide his role, name and so, he was not going to start the fight If the Postmaster was not a direct threat. His status and so would be evident on his armour he planned to wear later if trouble came, he expected this announcement could get interesting. He would ask Hector and Daphne to be ready for trouble, hope for the best, plan for worst, he had spent far too many days on crowd control, security duty and so on in a tense capital. The King in recent years had not been the most conductive to that. He hoped the Auralians knew what doing but would not count on it.

“Il take them” He said, dropping the appropriate amount of coin into a counter bowl looking at the prices and placing the items carefully into a satchel bag, the quill went into a softer Leather slot to protect it, it was certainly different but a strong quill and quite large. Its point looked well honed and shaped well for precision. “Good quality” He remarked to himself as he turned to leave, having placed the items away with a level of care of an artist not quite a match with the soldiers expectations. "Good day Postmaster" He said a little stiffly, he was a Blightborn, but he refused to look like a savage in front of him and stuck to the Diplomatic answer.

He turned to leave getting the clear dismissal.

…

“I'd rather not end up discovering if the town has a jail yet.” Persephone said easily. Not wanting to cause a drama by just claiming her bags, especially when they start a whole hunt for a thief that did not even exist.

Glancing at his hand, her expression turned a little more serious and was used to seeing all kinds of injuries and dealing with them herself as required to stay alive. “A good job indeed. You know your craft Miss Eris” approving of the bandaged application having seen far worse in her years, the town has a good healer and where they where they might just need such services.

She picked up on the Miss, no one had denied being a couple though or said to be already married etc. They were older than her kids and they knew what they were getting into. She could appreciate the comfort of a lover in this place, so far from home, civilization and so close to danger. “Thank you, I would appreciate it, a lot easier than having to find them myself. Lead on Mr Taru.”

The woman turned to her and seemed nervous, no… embarrassed, nervous and more mixed. She shook her head softly. “I am not really sure what my role is. I arrived from the Fort seeking aid, I happened to find my partner Lord Coswain was here, but I hope in the best way, it remains more social than a professional meeting.” She really hoped she did not end up needing a healer for a while, once was enough and she had been pretty out of it when she arrived.

“Thankyou Eris.” She said using her name to show she remembered it. “If you need help, you have it. I am not a formal healer but I learned enough from 2 kids, a grandchild and my service to at least help.” Persephone could help with that, she had to treat everything from a battlefield wound to a scraped knee, she was not trained formally but life had thrown so much her way you just had to adapt.

“Handsome man, bit too young for me, keep hold of thaf one.’ ” She said so quietly that only Eris could hear her before turning to follow Taru, she had a good perception of people and Taru seemed to be one of the good ones and did not raise alarms, probably hard working and skilled to be chosen as stable master.

@The Savant@The Muse

________________________________________________________
streets of dawn haven- Post office

He pushed into the post office, he thought it was the post office, it was tall, a several story structure that looked rather much like a tower that matched the description a passer by had given him anyway. He passed a woman who raised his hairs on the back of neck who seemed to have more grace than a human.

The woman had been dressed in dark clothes with very pale skin if his view of her hand was correct, hooded, Cloaked and clad in furs. She gave him an automatic urge to move his hand to hilt but made no such movement. The woman screamed danger? His gut feeling said it was dangerous, and he never ignored his gut feelings. “Postmaster? you around?” He was curious about the whole thing, people said the postmaster was a monster, a man, a bird.. many rumours but what was the truth?

"Excuse me, sir Might you direct me to a place for dry goods? A pen and parchment? I need to send out a message to another town urgently. Would you know of a place in town that I might do this?" Her words as cold as the air outside. The woman beneath the dark cloak smiled feeling the guards uncertainty about her, the tension. Her hunger tried to stir but was quickly stifled by her strength of will. Silently like his own shadow she followed him to the place. A building that resembled a tower of sorts. The gentlemen never offered his name and the Lady saw no reason to be so intrusive. He was a guard for the town and that was good enough. Just two ships that sailed close to one another in the night.

Entering the place felt humid from the steaming of wood to turn into paper. The few lamps placed in various spots secured by wall anchors for illumination. Even in the day the building and world was cloaked in shadows and darkness. Much like the cloak she wore. She waited her turn watching the guard make his request and the man who looked to her like some fallen angel from a book she had read once before in the library when she was but a girl. The black feathers and dark hair was a sight to behold and one not easily forgotten but his skin was a pale color of the sea. He was tall yes, very tall as he stood there waiting on her as she stepped forward with her request looking up at him allowed her gaze to drift beyond the fur lining of the hood and free the ruby eyes from the dark eclipse.

"Are you the one? I am in need of parchment, pen, and ink." Her voice calm and indifferent, her gaze was piercing and ominous, but not threatening. More like the hiss of a serpent that sweetly promised its warning if one should venture too close. He could see the pale skin from her face down her slender neck to the open top below like a princess born of snow and yet very much alive. She wore the simple brown blouse and black ankle length skirt hiding the knee high boots beneath. "I will need a courier as well in a urgent matter. The fastest one you know but the most discrete. Might you put me in contact with such a person? I will require their name and a meeting place, in town." Her eyes glanced about to se if there was a writing station, but then rethought about who might over see her message and decided the room back at the tavern to be more discrete. She stood at the other side of the counter watching the angelic creature, did the blight actually create such a sight? Truly she thought it was a curse to shape people in such a manner. The prince had the courage of his father to allow such creatures as the blight created to dwell in such close proximity. Hesitantly she cast as side glance as she found herself asking the question. "Did you have to strike a bargain with the Prince to stay here as well?" The Lady's voice was that of shy curiosity. Even as the ruby eyes were no less inviting. She squinted her gaze trying to notice any tells in his answer. Not many chances to meet another born of the blight and this town seemed like her chance to learn more about 'her people'.

Interactions:
Lord Coswain@The Savant Pleiades @PrinceAlexus

_{Interactions: Sunni-@The Savant}

---

Redacted

_______________________________________________________________
Post office...

Before he could escape up the stairs and back to his reading and enjoyment of tea. He heard another voice, unfamiliar like the last, and he let out a sigh. This time, he found himself in front of another blight born @amorphical, and she wasn’t familiar either. How strange… he thought while examining her deathly pale skin and bright crimson eyes. “Quite a few people seem to be needing those items today,” He chuckled a little bit while stepping back up to the counter. Parchment and a quill and ink. The lady before him might notice that her energy did not bother him at all. Throughout his eight years of being a blight born himself, he had come across a variety of horrifying individuals, and at first, it did bother him. The stares, the energy, and so on. Now he was completely desensitized to it.

“I’m the only courier around Dawnhaven and known to be the fastest and most discreet,” Pleiades forced a smile since he took her words as more condescending or snarky than anything. Almost sounding as if he felt like she should know that —- The woman in front of him was clearly not familiar with Dawnhaven or its resources or people. “And I am sorry but you can stand here and talk to me. I’m not meeting you anywhere else. I really don’t care to waste my time with formalities or distractions. If you need a courier, delivery, or similar service. I’m right here, Pleiades Porter is the name,” Pleiades grinned slightly with ingenuity. His tone was sassy in a sense with the woman because he felt like she was overly demanding and requestful. However, he thought about a lot of people who required him to deliver letters and so on. People were so pushy for quick and reliable service that it annoyed him at times. It was nothing personal.

He put the items that the woman needed on the counter. A small stack of parchment paper along with a quill made out of one of his feathers, and a small half-ounce bottle of ink that was corked. Pleiades seemed confused, “A bargain with the prince?” Pleiades sounded baffled at the question. Shrugging his shoulders at the thought which caused his wings to shift slightly, unfold a little, and refold neatly. “What do you mean by bargain? He practically asked me to not hurt people or fuck everyone in town to death but that isn’t a bargain? He tells me not to accept sexual acts as payments for my services either but I only can promise that doesn’t happen in Dawnhaven” The man sounded unsure as he pushed the items to the other side of the counter so she could reach them more easily. Even in his uncertainty, Pleiades chuckled at his words, since he casually accepted sex from people outside of Dawnhaven. He was trying his best to behave in this small boring town.

Slowly to not be misunderstood Olivia reached outward from her cloak with a coin purse listening to the Blight figure at the counter. The cream colored woman paused realizing she was still in regal mode from earlier with the Prince of this new territory. Relaxing her posture, "I see, My apology I've never used a courier before... Of course, Sir Porter. When could you possibly dispatch this letter for me and how much would it cost to deliver?" Her tone was far softer and warmer when addressing the other blight born. Her eyes constantly glancing at the enthralling wings he was adorn with. "I need this to go to a lady in waiting named Jaylen she is the keep at the far west end of the region of Durantel, which is to the north of here."Secretly wondering if he could fly or just glide? Olivia would pay for the items and service with a fair tip of 20% for her earlier rudeness. Feeling a little sympathetic being blight borne herself, knew how someone with huge wings and sea green skin could have trouble with clientele. Though there was something oddly soothing about his mannerisms and tone that would in a different setting and circumstance might of made her more receptive. The woman with the snow white hair pursed her lips as she scolded herself for being so curt with him. Impatience was a poor excuse for lack of courtesies in a first impression and now she had feared to have already left a negative mark on Porter.

He put the items that the woman needed on the counter. A small stack of parchment paper along with a quill made out of one of his feathers, and a small half-ounce bottle of ink that was corked. Pleiades seemed confused, “A bargain with the prince?” Pleiades sounded baffled at the question. Shrugging his shoulders at the thought which caused his wings to shift slightly, unfold a little, and refold neatly. “What do you mean by bargain? He practically asked me to not hurt people or fuck everyone in town to death but that isn’t a bargain? He tells me not to accept sexual acts as payments for my services either but I only can promise that doesn’t happen in Dawnhaven” The man sounded unsure as he pushed the items to the other side of the counter so she could reach them more easily. Even in his uncertainty, Pleiades chuckled at his words, since he casually accepted sex from people outside of Dawnhaven. He was trying his best to behave in this small boring town.

"Would it if I wrote it over here? Do you have any wax for a seal?" The ruby eyed woman asked in a kind and respectful tone. Realizing how much she was learning of the world and common way of speaking to people. Casting the occasional glance out from under the black fur hood. Looking back at the guard who never identified themselves... and left. "You came very recommended, by the guard who also guided me to you, establishment. I appreciate your service in this town. I honestly feared the town wouldn't have a service like this available."

On the far end of the counter she would set herself up and start to write the letter to Jaylen. The dark cloak hiding her figure creating a dark wraith like shape as the feather moved in twirls and twists accentuating her letter loops. When it was done a few minutes later Olivia folded the letter into a what would resemble a rectangular envelope pouring the hot wax over the triangle tip of the message before pressing the seal into the wax. Looking up from under the hood at the winged man, she half heartedly smiled at him while handing over the parcel.

The white haired monster chewed on her own lower lip slightly as she tired to formulate the precise way to go about asking intimate details to a stranger about information she had a personal investment in knowing. Taken back from the admission of violence or sex, seeing the other with more interest on who the dark angelic figures partners would be. Surely other birds were too small... "I am in negotiations with the prince, however Prince Astaros seems to have ulterior thoughts to the negotiations in myself residing here. Since you are a blight born I was wondering to the particulars of what he might be interested in to allow my stay. Perhaps you Sir Porter, might have some insight to that topic?"

@The Savant

Redacted

*Before he left, he was making Move to leave the post office.*

Lord Coswain was on alert around this woman, his sense was usually correct and he had a feeling that she was far more dangerous than the regular towns folk. “Market likely for dry stock, not far away from here. Seller on right shady, fake castle forged.” He said not wanting people to purchase that kind of rubbish, he deserved to not have any customers, they were liable to be made from some scrap rather than steel. He knew what castle forged steel was and that was not it. Prince might need guards to cheek more detailed gate duty.

“Sunni. Trader, or so the eye folk say can get that.” He said as was alone, only a fool started a fight, not sure you could win if you had a choice, cheat, dirty tricks, anything you could to level or make the odds in your favour. Much as the religious caste might be Zealots, soldiers like that died young, they leveraged intelligence, tactics, cheated and used any advantage they had. Sometimes you just had to go with the situation you found yourself in.

He had to be smarter than stupid, the situation was everything but normal. If that meant using his diplomatic skills more than his sword arm, that's what it took to complete the mission. You worked with what you had and with 4 at most, he has a much smaller deck of cards.

He headed out closer to the lake, finding the book, he began some experimental strokes with the new Pen, seeing how it behaved and sketching out the form of a lake island, wild and entirely unbothered. The local terrain was mapped but not in detail and he would correct that, understanding your area and its nature was one of the first things a soldier needed to do.

Preparation kept you alive.

…

Persephone left the house following Taru though the dark streets, perpetually dark streets, the only light came from the moon and the artificial Sources people gathered around like moths and flames. They used the light to fend off the constant and ever pervasive night. “Today you are, we do not know what tomorrow brings, in times present we just have to make the best of our lives.” She said but did not push the topic, they would make a fine pair though it seemed I'd they chose to.

She was a little dramatic but also bored as the adrenaline filled arrival turned into a Town that was more constructive than constructions completed. The stables were normal, well built but normal and headed over to her large black horse scratching its ears and pulled a brush from the bags of equipment for horse and rider. “Hey Agmar, relax, I'm safe.” She began to slowly brush out the large animal's deep black hair and ran a hand over its tall and heavily muscled back. She had a strong bond with this horse and the much larger animals was now calm, calm itself.

“Please take good care of him, he is somewhat feisty though. His name is Agmar A launariam Heavy, and loves apples.” She kept massaging the back and shoulder of her mount. “Am I allowed to take care of my own horse alongside your services? I did it when time allowed back home.” She asked and decided it would at least keep her busy and give something to do, besides the act of Brushing out Agmar, braiding and such was therapeutic. The dirt and leaves that were hidden fell to the ground.

Her saddle bags could wait a little as she brushed her hose down and took care of it, seeing as they arrived in all rather the rush it could easily have been overlooked but the town guards to inform what irs situation was. She did not expect miracles out here, she knew this town was barely a town as yet.

Given the quality of some here, quite the collection of horses. From basic Cart pullers to the larger military mounts, personal horses and others were quite wide.

@The Savant
@amorphical
@The Muse

Redacted

Time: Morning, Location: About Dawnhaven

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Soft, blue light went out before her and followed after her. She walked, shuffling slowly through snow drenched woods, the light of her hair announcing her approach. Exiting the tree line, her blue light was met with the light of embers. Orange, crackling, and warm, this light pushed back at the darkness within the town. She continued towards this new light, into the open and into deeper snow.

murrow

She stopped. Small and orange as the light of the town, he leapt from the tree line to the hem of her skirt and attempted to climb her like one of the trees behind them. She shook him off her skirt. He made his frustration known as he landed in snow which was up to his belly. She took him in her arms.

"Look, Butternut!" she positioned him so that the town lay before the cat's yellow-green eyes, "Dawnhaven!"

Holding the orange tabby to her chest, she walked briskly, her running speed, towards Dawnhaven. She had been traveling to Dawnhaven since she had learned of its presence nearly a month ago. She was truly lucky she hadn't been any further than she was, traveling everyday on foot at her sluggish pace. Tears nipped at her remaining eye. She drew closer to her pursuit, her blue light meeting Dawnhaven's orange light. Joy and terror coalesced, a catch formed in her throat at the prospect of once again being part of a community after a year alone and feral.

She placed her hand upon the wood siding of the first building she came to, its sturdy frame proving its being. She exhaled forcefully. She sat Butternut down in the shelter of the eave where the snow wasn't half as deep. She brushed orange hairs from her clothes: black and red plaid wool skirt with matching shawl and black off the shoulder sweater, all worn but well cared for and kept together by a compact sewing kit she kept in the pocket of her skirt. She pushed her long bioluminescent hair back from her shoulders, untangling the locks from the red capped mushrooms sprouting from her pale shoulders. She looked out from around the building, casting blue light into the street. The street seemed mostly quiet save for condensed pockets of activity. The day was still in its early stages. Or perhaps the day was winding down? In a world of forever night in which the majority of her interaction with others in the past year had been predatory, she lacked much of the nuance to tell the difference anymore.

murr

"Let's just stay here a moment. Take a breather." she spoke as much to herself as to her dearest friend as she retreated to the tabby's side under the eave, sitting down in the snow.

maow

Butternut climbed into her lap, swiftly replacing the orange hairs on her dark clothes. He placed his paws on her chest, headbutting her lovingly. She noticed his paws were cold, and folded him into her shawl against her body. Sighing, she stood. So close, it was far too late for hesitation.

"C'mon, Cass." she scolded herself, stepping out into the street, she held Butternut close and buried her nose into his neck fur, the angle obscuring her face with the red fungal cap that topped her head.

---

Mentions/Interactions

_{Location: Outside the Eye of the Beholder}

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While Ivor hadn’t wanted to waste too much time cutting the tree down to size, but like earlier in the woods, he found himself getting into a steady rhythm. There was something relaxing about being one of the few people awake and working, watching those he knew (and didn’t) getting up for the ‘day’. He’d already been greeted by the prince, even though he seemed to be in a sour mood. Ivor didn’t want to bother him and simply said morning to the young blackened sun in return. Several other townsfolk wandered by, either in search of food or beginning morning chores, some greeting the towering giant and others going about their business. He recognized that the line between man and blightborn was very thin indeed and while some trusted Ivor to behave, others still had their reasons to be wary. It didn’t bother the man much, he was used to being treated somewhat differently than others. His heritage amongst his clan held a legacy, a promise, and that intimidated people. It often led others to speak with him with only eyes above hushed waters, masking their true intentions with flair or formality. Nowadays, he intimidated people for an entirely different reason, but if what he said to Kira last night was to be true, then he would need to make it so and not let such ‘little things’ bother him.

“Good morning, There's a big town clan meet, moon. Half way. Western sky. You might not have got and too few of us know this one, If you have spare firewood, I might need more, we have a baker to support Hunter Ivor.”

Ivor looked up from his tree once more and smiled as he watched Sya exit the inn less concealed than she normally was. In the few months he’d known her, she’d kept her appearance obscured with a thick cloak, especially while out and about. Being a blightborn was no easy life and where it can take so many shapes, change into so many forms, not everyone was lucky enough to retain all of their human features; to see Sya out like this, brought a sense of joy. In tow was a rather ample young woman with black as night hair, possibly the baker Sya mentioned? Despite the odd matching and pairings of languages, Ivor got the gist of what she was saying.

"Good morning ladies!" he greeted the two of them in the common tongue, waving with his free hand.

“Ja, Syraeia, I’ll make sure to be there,” he called back in the guttural tongue of his tribe, “and Seluna’s light is dull to the beauty you shine on us this morning, may she guide you ever brighter!” He placed a hand over his heart, bowing his head deeply as she walked by. He gave a big smile and waved both of them off before resuming with his earlier task.

As he sized up how he was going to cut out the actual door from the heartwood, it occurred to him that the best possible size was the actual door itself. Approaching the building Ivor stepped up to the door and began to un-wedge it from the frame. It took a bit of effort considering he put it there to begin with, he hoped he wasn’t breaking anything else inside with his racket. Finally the door unjammed with a loud crack as more wood splintered away from the remaining hinge plates. Looking inside Ivor wanted to make sure that people were both okay and that he didn’t cause more damage than he already had. Giving a sheepish grin to the people around, he simply stated, “Ivor sorry, but I must borrow this door to make a new door; excuse me.” Politely, he backed both himself and the door out of the tavern. Walking back to the log, he placed the broken door over a flattened area and using that as reference, started hacking out a shape with his hatchet.

---

_{Interacts with: Syraeia @PrinceAlexus, Becky @amorphical; Mentions: Prince Flynn @The Muse}

_{Location: Communal Hotspring}

---

‘Oh goddess…’ Céline thought as her ears noticeably wilted, reading the emotions on Anathema’s face; shock? Awe? Fear? Whatever emotions were there, Céline could only pray it wouldn’t lead towards a scream, she already hated screams and her ‘mutation’ only amplified that hatred and pain further. Céline was ready to embrace the worse, however instead of pain though, she felt something else welling within Anathema. Despite the girl’s outward appearance, there was a torrential wave of emotion rushing from her, a level of excitement, curiosity and wonder that threatened to drown Céline. Oh goddess how she wanted to be drowned in it, to consume every last drop of this deluge till the source was nothing but an empty husk. She wanted to devour it, but every fiber of her being fought against it, unwilling to harm this human, this new encounter; even if it made her sick to her stomach. She breathed in through her nose and out her mouth, treating this like a hunger pain, yet one that rolled throughout her whole body and tensed every muscle, shocked every nerve. If she had the contents within her stomach they would have long been emptied by now.

"Perhaps we can find another who would be kind enough to perform introductions? she chuckled, "Though, I'll be spending another moment here. I'm not quite ready to brave the cold again."

Céline opened her eyes, unaware of having closed them, unaware of how heavy she was breathing. She placed the back of her hand to her forehead and felt the beads of sweat that had welled up, or was it condensation from the springs? Reality slammed back in and it didn’t take long for her to notice that her clothes clung to soaked skin, tugging with every motion. Despite wanting to get as far away from this well of emotion as possible, Céline hadn’t the endurance to get far, even if she tried. Anathema hadn’t run yet, in fact she seemed content to stay awhile, even inviting company. Perhaps…residually…

Céline forced a smile and quickly wiped her brow with the sleeve of her thick traveler’s coat, “I’d only been sitting here moments before you happened upon me. If you’re not opposed to it, I’d like to continue doing so and we can enjoy each other’s company.” She turned to sit, but not before removing the thick teal blue coat, revealing a rather oversized and loose fitting tunic. She folded the coat over placing it beside her before lowering herself back on the stone Anathema had found her. “I must also apologize for assuming you were one of the townsfolk. You approached me so calmly that I figured I wasn’t the first blight-born you had met, though still that might be the case anyway. Personally…you have me curious, what are your reasons for coming to Dawnhaven?”

Everything Céline said was true and she genuinely was curious about this person who approached her with no fear. That being said, this was also a way to maybe help curb her excitement a little bit. Something for Anathema to focus on, but general enough to be broad and not trigger one of her episodes. She already felt off being in front of this person, she didn’t want to have a full body paralytic experience on top of it. Goddess was Céline hungry…

---

_{Interacting with: Anathema@Lu}

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Interactions: Willis-@BOOM, Wenyr-@Fetzen

Time: Early Morning, Location: Communal Hotspring

---

Anathema noticed, curiously, that Céline appeared to have become uncomfortable as Anathema spoke. Was it her? While Anathema probably wasn't the warmest individual, she had never been described as imposing. She found the possibility that she was making the blightborn uncomfortable strange, opposite to what she had been advised. Had she simply somehow been rude? This was a dreadful thought, and she chose not to probe at it for the moment.

Despite her apparent discomfort, Céline offered her company and returned to sitting on a nearby rock. Perhaps Anathema had imagined it. Either way, Anathema took a seat beside Céline on a neighboring rock, delighting in the fact that the hotspring had kept the rock warm without regard to the nearby snow.

“I must also apologize for assuming you were one of the townsfolk. You approached me so calmly that I figured I wasn’t the first blight-born you had met, though still that might be the case anyway. Personally…you have me curious, what are your reasons for coming to Dawnhaven?”

So close to Dawnhaven, Anathema hadn't considered that her apparent comfort in the presence of a blightborn might be odd. She thought of the stagedriver who had been adamant that he bring her no further, and of how many hadn't come to Dawnhaven as willingly as herself. It occurred to her now that her behavior could certainly be considered odd, that she had been naieve to expect otherwise, and that, perhaps, Céline had been expecting a murdering zealot.

"No apologies are necessary." Anathema began, "You actually happen to be the first blightborn I've met, but I am a sage--a researcher--I've come to Dawnhaven to study the blight and, ah-um, those affected by it." she tried to choose her words carefully, hoping not to be insensitive or to come across as if she considered these people as nothing but specimens. She didn't go into why she wanted to study the blight and those it recreated. The simplest answer was curiosity. The more complex answer involved an idea which Anathema would not share until she was convinced she had evidence of enough merit that it wouldn't be immediately ignored, and that it may avoid holy fire. "I just feel it's too late for me to be afraid. I've come all this way, by my choice, afterall.

Anathema nibbled her lip, considering questions she might ask Céline. The woman's only transformation, at least which Anathema could tell in the moment, were her towering ears. Perhaps her hair and eye color, but in the darkness Anathema wasn't sure. Anathema wondered what determined a person's transformation once killed by the blight. She wondered how else the blight had changed the woman beside her, but she didn't know how to ask such questions without prying. It was rude to pry, especially into something that could be as traumatic as dying.

"You said that you're a doctor. Do you mean that you use healing magic?" she wondered whether and how magic strengthened by the sun, weakened in the current permanent night, had been affected by its user's blightborn nature. Was it weakened as her own or did it remain strong? Instead, she followed, "Do you also come here from Aurelia?"

---

Mentions/Interactions
Céline @SkeankySnack

"I would respectfully ask you reconsider your position. For now I would be disinclined to acquiesce your request. I apologize for not being able to be more, gracious to you in that regard."

Reconsider his position? Disinclined to acquiesce his request? Flynn bristled at the blight-born woman’s response, a rage building in his chest which had been simmering just under the surface since his discussion with his wife earlier that morning. As he held his tongue, fighting the urge to order her to leave Dawnhaven immediately, Olivia began to hastily make her exit up the stairs, evidently not wanting to wait for a response. “It is not a request.” Flynn called after her as he stood from his chair, his voice strong and raised to a stern tone that the Prince was rarely heard to use.

Aurelian guards turned towards their Prince in concern, conversations falling silent as their eyes followed the pale woman hurrying upstairs toward the tavern rooms. Flynn clenched his jaw, eyes narrowed as he stared after her. "Keep an eye on her. Let the Captain know at once." he ordered the nearest guard, who nodded fervently and responded quickly, "Yes, your highness!"

It had been months since he had dealt with another highborn, and even longer since he had encountered someone so outwardly abrasive toward the future King of Aurelia. In the capital, most people were too scared to say no to him, which he often despised, but he was not accustomed to being outright refused. Briefly, he wondered if the King of Lunaris had not instilled enough fear in his subjects as his father did in Aurelia.

Nonetheless, Flynn knew he was at a crossroads with this situation. He needed Olivia’s supplies to help Dawnhaven survive the winter, yet she was already proving herself untrustworthy and contentious. If he sent her away, Dawnhaven would suffer for it. But if he kept her, would they also suffer at her hand? He did not know what kind of blight-born she was, but she was certainly dangerous—they all were. Mentally, Flynn made a note to inform Orion about the Lady of Durnatel as well so he could keep an eye on her and provide much-needed advice for this sensitive situation.

Thoroughly irritated, Flynn quickly turned on his heel and stormed out of the tavern without another word, or even acknowledging that the door of the tavern had now been completely removed from its hinges. It seemed the Prince was making a habit of storming out of buildings this morning.

---

Stewing, Flynn began to make his way toward the eastern part of town where the temple to Aelios had been built. Properly introducing himself to the Priestess was next on his task list, though he had hoped to be in a much better mood for their second meeting. Both instances of their meeting had now been tainted by blight-born. Though, his wife had certainly added fuel to the anger burning inside his chest too.

Entering the temple, Flynn let out a deep sigh that he hadn’t realized he had been holding. The temple was quaint and not nearly up to the standards his mother would have required for an offering to Aelios, but the construction workers had done well with the limited time they had. The floorboards creaked under his feet as he entered, and the scent of freshly cut wood mixed with the warmth of the eternal flame and nearby hot springs enveloped his senses. Although the temple was nothing like those in the capital, somehow, Flynn felt closer to the Goddess here than he ever had while in the grandeur of the capital.

Slowing his pace, his eyes fixated on the large brazier that held the eternal flame in the middle of the temple. He approached silently, transfixed by the flame and the way it cast shadows across the room while it fought off the encroaching cold from outside. For a few moments, he lost himself in flames and thought, temporarily forgetting why he had come to the temple in the first place. Although he did not trust the clergy, there was something comforting about being near the warmth of Aelios that calmed him.

The door to the temple slid closed behind him, a muffled thud reverberating through the building. Tia’s eyebrows drew together, her body flinching in on itself. She lay in her bed, her hair and sheets all a tangled mess around her. She’d first awoken hours ago, trapped in her own body as her mind fought to free itself from the tendrils of her dream - her prophecy. Still half unconscious, panicked, unsure of where she was, she’d fumbled her way to the letter she’d prepared for the High Priest to add a postscript lest she forget the details. Then she’d fallen back into bed, tossing and turning as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

Tia’s eyes squeezed shut, her hand fisting in the sheets. Then she released it, her whole body deflating into the mattress. She waited a breath. Two. Then she forced herself to sit up, rubbing at her eyes. She had no idea what time it was - it was dark out, but that meant nothing anymore. It’d been dark for half a year. It must’ve been early still. Perhaps it was even night. It was hard to keep track of the hours when she’d slept for most of the day before. Her body didn’t feel rested, but she wasn’t exhausted down to her bones as she’d been the night before. Her magic was present at least - she could feel it, muffled and quiet in her core.

Running her hand through the tangled knots in her long hair, Tia stifled a yawn. Dawnhaven. Prophecies. The queen. The flame. She had work to do. Sun temples were open to the public, and she ought to make sure everything was in proper order before any worshipers arrived.

Finally, Tia pushed herself out of bed. Feet bare on the wood floor, eyes still blinking away the sleep, hair a knotted mess down her back, Tia crossed the room to open the door, and padded down the hallway - the flame would need tending to, and it’d be best if she did that before changing into her robes, lest they become dirty from the soot and ash. She pulled her sleeping robes tighter around herself - they were too large for her and she had to lift the hem to keep from stepping on them, but they were warm.

Covering her mouth to yawn again, Tia opened the door to the main chamber, the fire’s warmth growing as it spilled over her. Then she stopped.

A form swam into focus standing before the fire. A man, broad-shouldered, straight-backed, with golden hair shining like the sun.

Tia was frozen. Then her eyes widened as realization dawned - and then horror. Prince Flynn was here. And she was… not fit for visitors.

But he seemed… focused. Was he praying? This seemed to be a private moment, and Tia couldn’t help but feel like an intruder. Surely she could be forgiven for leaving him to his solitude, right? Right. She could quietly retreat, backtracking through the hallway, and dress herself, and it would all be -

Tia let out a strangled squeak as she stepped on the dragging hem of her robe, falling backwards into the hallway.

Hearing a sudden thud to his left, Flynn snapped back to reality, quickly facing the sound. His hand instinctively reached for his sword, which was absent from his hip. He had stormed out of the house so quickly that he hadn’t even thought to bring it with him, a foolish oversight. His father would certainly have scolded him for such carelessness.

“Priestess!” he exclaimed, spotting the frail-looking woman toppled over on the temple floor. He hurried to her and offered a hand to help her to her feet. “Are you alright?” he asked, concern etched across his face. “Have you not been recovering well since yesterday? Perhaps I can call for Eris to assist?”

Tia wasn’t certain she would ever recover from the unending string of embarrassments that had become her life since setting foot in Dawnhaven. Pain reverberated through her rear, her wrist, the palm of her hand, as she looked up at the prince. Heat flooded her cheeks. She pressed her lips together as she lowered her eyes to his offered hand. After a moment’s hesitation (which she spent praying to Aelios that this was actually just another dream and she’d wake up not here) she placed her own hand in his and allowed him to help her up.

She shook her head at his question, eyes glued to some point in the middle of his chest so she wouldn’t have to meet his gaze. She swallowed before speaking.

“An accident.” Tia barely managed to keep from flinching at her own tattered voice. “Your Highness,” she added, focusing on forming the words. She gave a hurried bow - only to remember Pleiades’ discomfort with the gesture. Would the Prince be uncomfortable with it too? No, he was royalty… wouldn’t he expect it of her? Tia’s attention darted back to her hand, still held in his. She withdrew it, curling her fingers tightly around each other in front of her legs.

“Ah, I see.” Flynn held a small smirk on his lips as he realized the Priestess had simply lost her footing. It was a bit odd for a Priestess of Aelios to be so clumsy, but then again, it was rare for the Prince of Aurelia to be so careless as well. “Well, I am glad you’re alright.” he confirmed as she withdrew her hand from his, the softness of her skin not escaping his notice. Despite the scars around her neck hinting at a difficult past, it appeared that training in the clergy required little manual labor or weapons training when comparing her hands against his.

“I, uhm,” he glanced away briefly, sensing her nervous energy as she avoided his gaze. He was used to this reaction among common folk, but for a Priestess sent by the clergy of the capital, her fear seemed unusual. “I wanted to properly introduce myself and welcome you to Dawnhaven.” He returned his gaze to her, searching for a way to appear less intimidating but coming up short. “Although..” he glanced down at his own garb, which was just as unprofessional as the Priestess was dressed. “I’m sorry about … this.” he gestured to his attire, a sheepish smile on his face. “I rushed out of the house this morning. With so many things on my task list, I clearly forgot to dress myself appropriately.” He let out a small laugh, trying his best to lighten the mood.

Tia’s eyes flicked up at the sound. It was… nice. Charming, even. But when she looked up at him and saw his mother’s green eyes, she looked down again. She gave another shake of her head in response to his words before pausing. She opened her mouth - then closed it again. Another hesitant look up at him. Tia released her fingers to raise a hand slightly, a gesture to wait. She bowed, repeated the gesture, and turned to hurry back down the hall she’d come from.

Flynn blinked a few times, confused, as he watched the Priestess leave. Had he said something wrong?

Careful to keep hold of the dragging hem of her robe, Tia made her way back to her room. The moment she was out of sight of the Prince, her hands were a flurry of activity as she tried to right herself. Her hands ran through her hair, her too-large robe was straightened on her shoulders and pulled tight around her body, her neck - her neck. He’d seen it by now, she was sure. She couldn’t just come back out with a scarf on, not with the temple so warm, not with him waiting out there, smart enough to realize that she was making him wait for her vanity. Tia let out a breath that felt like defeat. Then she grabbed a folded piece of parchment off of her nightstand (along with her notebook and charcoal) and left the room to once again face the Prince.

She walked with as much composure as she could muster, stopping before him to bow again. She held out the parchment. Prince Flynn of Aurelia was written in neat script on the top fold. She still couldn’t quite meet his gaze.

Flynn gently took the folded parchment from her hands, examining the unfamiliar handwriting addressed to him. He raised a curious brow, glancing at her briefly before unfolding the paper and reading.

To His Royal Highness, Prince Flynn of Aurelia,

My name is Tingara Tomae, Priestess of Aelios, and I was sent from the capital to serve as the representative of the clergy for the settlement of Dawnhaven. Please forgive me, that my introduction must be delivered in the form of this letter; I was recently involved in an incident that greatly diminished my ability to speak. While this has undoubtedly impacted my role within the Church and the duties I am capable of fulfilling, please know that I will strive to overcome my deficiencies to serve Aelios and Dawnhaven. I was sent from Aurelia with a shipment of supplies provided by the Church to help Dawnhaven through the winter - they should have found you yesterday. It is the hope of the High Priest that you will look to the Church as a source of aid and support throughout this endeavor.

I apologize for the role I played in the ordeal with Willis and the child yesterday. I failed to keep the situation under control not once, but twice, and became burdensome to you, your advisor, and the lead sage of Dawnhaven. It is with great discomfiture that I look back on our first meeting, and I recognize I have committed a great disservice to both the Royal House of Aurelia and the Church of Aelios. Please do not punish Willis for my failure to deescalate things. While the past cannot be undone, I would humbly ask for your grace and patience, and an opportunity for the both of us to prove our worth here.

Despite my apparent impuissance yesterday, I am a healer of moderate skill. While my magic has waned in the absence of the sun, I still possess some ability to cast. Please use my abilities, diminished as they are, as you see appropriate. I hope to be of use to Dawnhaven and your mission here in whatever capacity I am able. I shall endeavor in the future to be more cognizant of my limits so as to not become an additional burden, as I was yesterday.

Finally, I would like to express my sincere gratitude for being welcomed into the community of Dawnhaven. Every resident I’ve come across in the short time that I’ve been here has been unfailingly kind. The temple to Aelios you have constructed is filled with Her warmth, and I will steward it as well as I can for the people of this settlement.

Please do not hesitate to call upon me if I may be of service at any point.

Priestess Tingara Tomae

Flynn frowned as he read the letter, guilt washing over him as Tia apologized for things he believed to be beyond her control. It was he who had failed, not her. Near the end of the letter, Flynn’s face relaxed slightly, and a faint smile appeared. At the very least, it was good to hear that she had met kind individuals and didn’t find the temple too disappointing. Tia, so far, was far more gracious and selfless than any of the clergy members Flynn remembered.

“Thank you for your kind words, Priestess.” he said, folding the letter and carefully placing it into his pants pocket. “Please do not apologize for yesterday. You saved that child’s life and I am ever grateful, as are his parents.” His smile faltered as he recalled the events of the previous day.

“I’m sorry your first day was so…” he sighed, frustration evident. “Terrible, frankly.” He shook his head. “Dealing with the blight-born can be challenging, I admit.” His mind wandered to the Lady of Durnatel and Willis, both of whom had caused him recent trouble. “Most have managed to adapt to civil life, and it’s been rewarding to see them regain their lives. I hope you will have a better experience among them today. I deeply apologize for what happened yesterday, but I am ever grateful for the help you provided to that child.” He bowed his head to her this time, “If you ever need anything at all, please do not hesitate to ask me personally.” Tia blinked in surprise, lips parting.

Standing upright again, Flynn returned his gaze to Tia and forced a warm smile, easily falling into it as he was so used to doing over the years. “I did receive the supplies from the church, as well. Please send them my thanks. I will be sure to send word to them as well.” Although he was grateful, he also knew this tied him to yet another faction to whom he would owe a debt. For Dawnhaven’s sake, he’d have to put his differences with the church aside. “We are very grateful to have you here.” His gaze shifted toward the eternal flame, “Dawnhaven could certainly use the warmth Aelios provides.”

Tia followed his gaze to the flame, flickering and diminished - it’d been hours since she’d last tended to it. There was that burning sensation again, on the back of her neck - the one from her dreams. Her eyes flicked back to the Prince. It was easier to look at him in profile like this - his eyes distant, firelight dancing across his skin. She watched him. His words echoed in her mind - the weight of them. He sounded… tired.

Tia opened her notebook to a new page - it was bare, save for a detailed drawing of a fern near the bottom, parts labeled with a precise hand. She paused to admire it, a soft smile forming on her lips. She wrote above the drawing, then held the book out to show the Prince. She didn’t look away, this time.

Flynn looked towards the Priestess as he heard a page turn, his thoughts drawn to the scars around Tia’s neck. He was glad she had found a decent way to communicate despite her “incident.” Though he wondered what had happened to her, he felt it was probably impolite to ask after just meeting her. As she wrote, Flynn’s eyes moved to the drawing on the page, which he admired. Apparently, the Priestess was not only gifted in religion but also in the arts.

It has Her warmth. I’ve felt it in the people, human and blight-born alike.

Flynn smiled at her message, though he did not necessarily believe her—not today, anyway, when his day had already been so heavy. His own wife had told him she would have rather died than come to settle Dawnhaven with him. “Thank you,” he simply stated, returning his focus to the flames. For a few moments, he let the silence linger between them as his mind raced.

“Priestess,” he suddenly said, breaking the silence as he met her eyes. “Do you truly believe the prophecy?”

It was a bold question to ask, and he expected her to reply as they all did—with unwavering support for the seer who delivered the message that changed his fate. But he felt the urge to ask. If he were to have this Priestess in Dawnhaven, he wanted to see how she reacted to such questions. No doubt, there were nonbelievers among Dawnhaven that she would have to encounter.

Tia found herself trapped in his gaze, like his eyes held the fire itself. Her breath caught in her lungs. The weight on the back of her neck grew, heat seeping down her spine, over her shoulders, across the scars covering the expanse of her throat.

Her mind flashed to her dreams - of blood and stars and eyes like molten gold. Then to the Queen and High Priest, standing like looming shadows before her. Then to the golden dagger, ornate and glittering, hidden in a wooden box at the bottom of her closet.

The Prince was waiting for an answer.

It took her another heartbeat to free herself from his gaze. Carefully, she lifted the notebook to write.

I believe in the High Priest’s wisdom. But I hope another solution might be revealed. Aelios’ will is as vast as the sky - one cannot see every star in a single night.

Flynn smiled faintly as he read Tia’s note, nodding slightly in agreement before pulling his gaze away. Although her answer hadn’t surprised him, it was comforting that the Priestess was open to the idea of another solution. He, too, hoped for another path to be revealed to them.

“I hope so, too. That is my goal here, to find another solution. We’re working towards finding a cure for the blight. Eris and the other Sages have been hard at work.” he said, his attention returning to the eternal flame.

“May Aelios light the path for us.” He said, mostly to himself, just above a whisper as he watched the flames flicker energetically, his thoughts clearly more numerous than he was willing to express.

Tia kept watching him. It felt impudent, to stare at him so boldly. But Tia found she couldn’t look away - this was her Prince. The man she’d been sent here to keep a watch on. The man she’d been sent to kill, when the time came. Did he bear the heavy gaze of Aelios, as she did? Did he feel the tip of the dagger inching ever closer to his heart, day by day? Did phantom memories of violet smoke choke his lungs as it billowed across the land? The way he watched the flame, bags under his emerald eyes, muscles tight around his mouth…

And what was her role here, but to be another weight to carry?

Tia bit the inside of her cheek, knuckles tightening around the notebook in her hands. She finally pulled her gaze away from him, to watch Aelios’ flame. She echoed his prayer in her mind.
_{...Where are the stars, Tingara?...}
…But Aelios was lighting a path, wasn’t She? What were Tia’s visions, if not instruction?

She couldn’t tell him, not yet, not without permission from the High Priest, but…

Tia lifted her notebook again to write in it. She looked back to the Prince. She hesitated before bringing her hand to his arm, the touch feather-light before she pulled it away again.

Do you know of any caves nearby, Your Highness? Perhaps by a lake?

The Prince felt Tia’s touch break through his internal dialogue, drawing his gaze first to her hand and then to the note. He furrowed his brow as he pondered her question, trying to remember if he had seen any caves, and wondering why she would be asking such an odd question. He had seen much on his journey to Dawnhaven, but no caves came to mind.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know of any. We have Frostmoon Lake to the south, but I don’t believe it has any caves.” He paused, thinking of the path he would take along the lake in the early hours of “morning”. Even if there had been a cave, he doubted he would have seen it in the darkness. Someone would need to search for it specifically, and he hadn’t ventured into the lake’s waters or towards its surrounding mountain range. “Why do you ask?”

Tia hadn’t foreseen the Prince asking this very predictable question. Her eyes widened slightly as she fought to keep her expression neutral - it was not a fight she was winning.

“Prayer.”

Her voice didn’t function properly nine times out of ten, and that managed to make it past her lips?

"Ah..." Flynn nodded, a bit taken aback by her sudden clarity, but he accepted her answer for truth even though he found it to be a very odd statement. He had never known Aelios worshippers to seek out caves. Was this a new practice since the sun had vanished? The darkness of such a place seemed more suited for a Priestess of Seluna. Nonetheless, Flynn had been taught not to question the clergy, lest he face the consequences for doubting them. They had their ways... or so his mother told him.

Keeping his gaze upon her, he took a moment to take in her features under the soft glow of the eternal flame. She was unique in a way that made her stand out against most people who were from the mainland. As a Prince, he had met many nobles and emissaries who came from all over, but only once before had he encountered someone from her region of the world. "You hail from the Ember Isles, yes?" he asked, curious. "I have heard it is beautiful there. Unlike anything else..." He smiled warmly at her, unable to resist the princely charm that came so naturally to him. "Like you, I'm sure."

Tia’s eyes only grew wider. A different sort of warmth pooled in her cheeks, heating her as though she were in one of the temple’s hot springs. Tia looked down at her notebook like she could hide in it, and busied herself writing.

All her previous boldness had escaped her - Tia was back to avoiding the Prince’s gaze as she held the notebook up. But quietly, secretly, vainly, his words echoed in her mind. No one had called her beautiful since… since she’d had black hair and an unblemished neck.

I was born there, yes. But the majority of my life has been spent living in the Aurelian capital, under the care of the Church.

Flynn couldn’t help but smile to himself as he noticed the Priestess’s nerves rising again, as if this had been a game he had just won. It was an enjoyable respite, reminiscent of the playful behavior he had enjoyed only a few months ago, though the feeling was fleeting.

“Perhaps we can both visit some day.” he stated as he read her message, a bit disappointed that she did not have more stories to tell of the land she was born in. Much of the Ember Isles remained shrouded in mystery, a source of endless intrigue for him, but it seemed the isles would elude him still. “If we make it through this.” he added somberly, the grimness of their situation—his situation—gripping at his heart and pulling him back to reality. There was no time for taking small joy in making a woman nervous under his gaze or with his words, or for making plans for the future that seemed so far out of the realm of possibility.

Studying her a bit more, Flynn began to imagine how this small and easily unnerved woman would be the one to drive a dagger into his heart someday soon if he could not make progress on his search for a cure. Could she actually do it? Had they trained her on how to take someone’s life? Had she participated in any of the sacrificial rituals that had been done recently? Did she know how to make it quick so that he wouldn’t suffer? The realization washed over him slowly, blanketing him in a coldness that even the eternal flame could not fight off.

“You must’ve done extensive training with the church for them to send you here.” he said, more as a statement than a question, his eyes fixated on hers—searching for confirmation in her expression. He wasn’t sure if the church had sent their best to him or their worst. Was she just a vessel to kill him when the time came and nothing more? It was an odd feeling, looking into the eyes of a woman who could very well be his end. Someone so gentle, and yet…

“I hope the time never comes, Priestess, but if it does…” he found himself speaking before he could rethink his words and hold his tongue. “Be sure to make it quick for me, will you?”

Tia could only meet his eyes, heavy with the weight they held. He seemed so young. So weary. A lump formed in her throat, nestled behind her scars, as tears threatened to build. Tia could make him no promises. The only thing she’d ever been good at was healing, not lying, not subterfuge, not killing, and she felt helplessly small in the wake of all that was being asked of her. The Prince, the High Priest, the Queen, Aelios...

And suddenly they weren’t Prince and Priestess. They were just two people tied together by something terrible.

A slender hand raised, slow and careful. The tips of her fingers came to the arch of his cheekbone - after a moment, the rest of her hand cupped the side of his face. It was almost maternal, as her thumb moved over the crest of his cheek. A tear slid down her own.

Flynn frowned as an emotion resembling anguish flashed across the Priestess's eyes and she reached out for him. Instinctively, he nearly stepped back, but the pain in her expression made him pause as she gently placed a hand on his face. He watched her cautiously, frozen by her sudden act of bold kindness. His brows furrowed, and his eyes mirrored the same suffering he saw in hers. This felt too intimate for someone he had just met, especially with the woman sent to one day kill him, and even more so with a Priestess of Aelios. Yet, he couldn’t look away from her as she ran her thumb across his cheek. When a tear fell from her eye, Flynn grimaced. He had not meant to make her cry, and now guilt set in. He had not expected the Priestess to hold so much empathy for his situation either.

Tia withdrew. Bending, she placed the notebook and charcoal on the temple floor. The soft clatter and thump of it nestled amongst the warm crackle of the fire. She looked back to him as she straightened. Reaching out, she took his hand to guide it up to his own chest, over his heart.

“Tīda, nasaki,” she whispered. Faint golden light filled the space between her hand and his, warmth seeping into the back of his palm. With her other hand, she touched his forehead. “Tīda, hwichai.” Her rasping voice broke over the final word. Light and warmth again bloomed under her touch.

It was a simple blessing - too humble for royalty, but for some reason it called to Tia now, for him. It was common in the Ember Isles, and the first thing she’d been taught at that rundown little temple when they’d deemed her well-fed enough to begin learning. She’d only done it once since leaving her island - for a bedridden old man in the capital, ember-born like her, who’d sobbed all the while. Tia had cried with him. She looked like his daughter, he’d said.

Entranced by her, Flynn followed Tia’s lead as she guided his hand to his heart. Confusion flickered across his face as Tia spoke in a language he had never heard before, but he remained silent. His eyes finally broke from hers as he felt warmth growing between their hands. He looked down to find a light beginning to radiate there, watching curiously before feeling her gently touch his forehead. He looked at her again as she stretched to reach the top of his head, being so much shorter than he was. He nearly smiled out of amusement, but an overwhelming sensation of warmth and tingling rushed throughout his body. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to appreciate the feeling of comfort that it brought. He had no idea what she had just done—she could have cursed him for all he knew—but whatever it was seemed to relax muscles that had been tensed for days, months even.

The golden glow faded, until only the firelight remained. Tia pulled her hands back, looking up at him.

Reopening his eyes, Flynn met her gaze and smiled faintly before glancing down at his hand to find the glowing light had faded away. “What was that?” he asked, his voice softer and more relaxed than it had sounded before.

Tia met his smile with a soft one of her own. Her eyes lowered, unfocused, as she tried to think of the best way to translate it. The edge of her hand swiped at her cheek. She would’ve been scolded if any other members of the clergy had seen - she’d always been too expressive, too involved with others. It was unbecoming of a priestess.

She looked back up to the Prince. Raising a hand, she touched her heart. “Mercy,” she said, voice catching on the word. The itch that never seemed to disappear gripped at her throat. She paused, bringing her sleeve to her mouth as she coughed - yet another of her deficiencies. Tia tried to swallow, clearing her throat. Then she raised her hand to her forehead. “Light.” It was more breath than voice.

“Thank you, Priestess.” he said, though guilt gripped him once again. She had clearly pushed her limits by speaking to him so much, and he wondered if she felt obligated to do so just because of his title. “I truly appreciate it.” He smiled genuinely, though any happy feelings he had seemed to fade away quickly these days. Despite her care, something still wouldn’t leave his mind.

Gently, Flynn took Tia’s hand into his own this time and guided it to a spot just to the left of his sternum, pushing between his fourth and fifth ribs. “If the time comes, aim here.” he said softly, his eyes meeting hers with a solemn intensity. “Angle slightly upwards, towards the center of my chest. A quick thrust will pierce the heart and end it swiftly.” He held her hand there for a moment, watching her expression to see if she understood.

Her eyes widened as she felt the Prince’s bone and muscle under layers of flash and cloth. And she was to cut through all of it. Her eyes darted between her hand, held firmly in his own, and his somber face. Her nerves began to undo themselves, a building crackle of energy that quickened her pulse and shortened her breath. She could already smell the vile iron in the air, his blood was already leaking onto her hand, it coated her fingers, her neck, it filled her lungs and she was drowning in it –

Her hand was trembling as her vision snapped into clarity again. She looked at it, small in his hand, against his chest. She tried to memorize the placement. Tia looked back up at him.

How could she deny a dying man’s wish?

Tia bit down on her cheek, trying to control her breathing. Her hand still shook. She nodded.

Flynn smiled with a certain sadness, feeling reassured despite the way her hand trembled in his. He slowly released her hand and nodded, a silent understanding and agreement passing between the two of them. “Thank you.”

Taking one last glance at the eternal flame, Flynn took a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to clear out any of the tension that still remained in his body, though the effort felt futile. “I must be on my way, but thank you for meeting with me. We— I am glad to have you in Dawnhaven.” He turned to leave but paused.

“If I am to die, I am glad it will be by your hand, Priestess.” he added, glancing over his shoulder with one last look at her, that sorrowful smile still lingering on his lips. The sight of it broke Tia’s heart. Willing himself to leave the comfort of the temple, Flynn left her to attend to her Priestess duties, entering the cold of the outside world once more.

Tia watched the door to the temple shut behind him. She was filled with a sickening guilt as she realized the Queen would be very pleased with her progress.

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_{Mentions: Olivia @amorphical}

_{Interactions: Sunni-@The Savant}

---

Lord Coswain sat drawing, he was shading in the distant mountains, the tall peaks in the far distance capped with snow and sharp peaks. They were places only the great angles could dwell, deep cold, and no one who climbed them ever returned least that he knew of.

This was his second spot, he planned to eventually do a study all round the area, its terrain and nature.

some sage. Air got too … short…something about high altitude and sickness at such heights. He knew the effect, not the exact science and Sage behind it. That was not his business and he was very good at the one he chose. He was watching and alert always, old habit died hard as he split his eye between the art and movement around him. He might not have best reputation but he was a skilled guard…when he was able to undertake his duties anyway. Octavia seemed very much to be hostile to him.

“Your Highness” He called out to the figure, he could tell who it was, an Royal Guard was rarely a slow eye or a slow mind, standing up and giving a nod as he returned his items to the satchel with the same care of an artist. The clink of his scabbard against the tree he used as a place to draw before he got it out his way.

“Much as I know I am not most welcome here, I would be remiss to not offer an escort, seeing as you are alone and we are far from behind stone walls.” He said, seeing a Royal alone and about without escort was something he was entirely new with or maybe Auralia had a different idea about personal security. He kept his tone calm and steady without a single waiver in the Capital Lunarian.

“May I ask, will this announcement be… provocative. you may not want me, but I take my duty seriously, even when i am unfavoured. A threat is a threat.” He edged his words very carefully, the security part of his mind kicking in, questions and building possibilities together easily. If Octavia was there, he was told he had to protect her, Exile Or not that was his orders. He added the unspoken that some of the guards seemed less seasoned for the duty they had been sent, younger men were great for labour but this town was right on a frontline against blight. There were Veterans among them but more was better than less.

“Your Highness If you need my services, just ask. My grandchild's and family's future relies on you and your wife's success here.” He said plainly but honestly, if keeping him alive helped save his Kingdom, and his childrens future he would, He would deny it was a selfish reason but an honest reason, one of several but that one was one he had to admit was a powerful one.

…

“This suits me, I'm still finding my place here, and this is something to keep busy. The Fort i headed from needs urgent repair and inwas only in the way.” Persephone said frankly, she was surplus to requirements for some and many roles she knew, how many plots and deep set conspiracies could a small town have?

“Calm..that's it” She stroked the horses ears having to reach up to get there, the big animal knew its signs and had it relaxed and calm easily.

“I know what I'm doing, enjoy, Sya might be out, just so you know” Persephone had been curious and had picked up on a few things before she left the Inn. The woman, a blightborn by looks of her mutation, seemed to be almost rushing to be doing other things. The fact the Innkeeper was a blight born was somewhat unnerving to say the least but also seemed to be more Interested in business than blood from a short observation. She was small, but size was no marker as to danger from.a blight born, a Woman her size could easily be any kind of lethal.

“Maybe treat your friend to breakfast…not as a … a gesture of thanks, a hot meal you not had to prepare is rather nice.” Persephone said, patching you up and so had to at least be worth a meal even if they refused payment In coin. The woman had refused thanks bar a minor gesture and perhaps she deserved a little more for patching him up so well and so quickly.

@The Savant
@The Muse

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Marcon Eye of the beholder/Dawnhaven

The guards were different here, he thought. Not standing at attention allong the walls or spaced evenly behind the prince. Instead they seemed to be scattered about the tables enjoying their breakfast while others were intimately watching the blond and the woman in red converse thusly. He gave it a shrug as a sign of the times or maybe since the town or villa was still being formed decorum was not as important for the time being? With another bite of stew he watched the events unfold.

A few more bites after the two royals departed to go about their day a little put off that the Prince didnt stop to the new face in his realm but then again it seemed to Marcon that the young man had his hands full and was rushing from one engagement to the next with little to no time in between. He would make a note to find some time later, maybe, or just see about the locals. Hell he wasnt a man with any real title other than Sir or champion, and it was clear by their note of his presence no one in this place really seemed to pay the old man any real mind. Feeling his heart sink a bit at the thought and with the last bit of stew on his spoon gone he wiped his mouth and stood up, "All right now lets see about this door."

As he sized up how he was going to cut out the actual door from the heartwood, it occurred to him that the best possible size was the actual door itself. Approaching the building Ivor stepped up to the door and began to un-wedge it from the frame. It took a bit of effort considering he put it there to begin with, he hoped he wasn’t breaking anything else inside with his racket. Finally the door unjammed with a loud crack as more wood splintered away from the remaining hinge plates. Looking inside Ivor wanted to make sure that people were both okay and that he didn’t cause more damage than he already had. Giving a sheepish grin to the people around, he simply stated, “Ivor sorry, but I must borrow this door to make a new door; excuse me.” Politely, he backed both himself and the door out of the tavern. Walking back to the log, he placed the broken door over a flattened area and using that as reference, started hacking out a shape with his hatchet.

Gathering his bag from the cart and strapping his tool belt he walked back to the front of the tavern slash inn to give the ...pine door a good once over. Seemed too splintered from the battle to be in tact, save for a poor set of hinges that were torn from the wood. The frame held and the door being pine was not ...alright. He would walk over to Ivor and give the burly guy a once over wishing he had about a hundred of these beasts in his last campaign. Watching him hack away at the large log for the door. "I'm called Marcon. You really..." He stopped himself not wanting to fight the man feeling something off about him. Maybe if the champion was thirty years younger a good sparing partner but now, time was not on his side to take on any newcomers of this size. Though he thought what a tale it would have been. "I have new hinges for the door when your done."

"Now then..." He looked about the streets and what not his mind still wanting to see the perimeter in his old captain mindset but instead went about trying to locate a current build going up to speak with whomever was currently in charge and offering his services. It wouldnt take long. A home by the looks of it half framed and the stones for the supports being mudded in place. The old warrior walked up to the crew, "I'm a carpenter looking for work, if you have need of me. Marcon Brand is my name. How many crews are here in Dawnhaven? Are there any plans or markers for the construction going on?" He wanted to ask about the perimeter wall if any was in the process of being erected but thought that type of questioning by a new face just might get him into a spot of trouble, so he refrained.

From the looks of things they were building level by level most of the buildings he walked by were a smart two story and not very elaborate. The old man admitted that they seemed decent although just a touch disorganized. Seemed two people teams were trying to do everything all at once which were slowing down the framing crews. who were pissing off the stone crew, and the helper teams were just sitting about waiting for the call for more lumber to be bought about. With a deep sigh Marcon shook his head and put on his stern face. "You there what's your name? Right..No Everyone just stop! Who is in charge of this... site?" He bit his tongue figuratively holding back the harshness of his captain mode.

"In charge? Is that a joke? We are just trying to get this up and move to the next, but the wood isnt exactly being cut in the amount or sizes we need all the time. and then there is the stone masons that seem to be in a hurry to encase the work before its even done." An average dark aired man said who was one of the three carpenters.

"Right. I see that. Alright, fine stone masons you have other sites? Go ahead and start on the footings for them and only the footings. Where are the lumber carfters at right now? Give me the plans for the build."

The carpenter crew burst out laughing and snickering at the old man. "You kidding gov? The plans are all up in 'er heads. Three room home nothing fancy, that's what the 'plans' say." The second younger carpenter with corn blond hair spoke out of turn and by the head nods everyone seemed to be in agreement with the statement.

"Holy nine hells. So this is all free formed with nothing more then three rooms and square? How are the lumber teams suppose to cut on that? Alright look.." Marcon glanced about the area and found a piece of wood er stick of sorts and started to draw in the snow. but it wasnt really working. Going to his cart he came back with a piece of charcole type pencil and a flat board to draw up some plans. "So here is what I'm seeing, and here... is what is going to happen. I'll make variations to change it up a bit but we can use the same cuts on all of them. Support beams here and here and ...here. Then windows, two doors, ...oh we'll need mud for the masons so every third home is getting a root cellar." He looked about with everyone shaking their head seemingly glad to have a plan. "Right now I'm going to have a word with the lumber jacks about the amounts size and what we need on a daily. So where are they at?" He shoo'ed them back to work with his hands and turned to the cart and to the team. Seemed they were about to be used as sled pullers. Stepping up he gave the reigns a light whip and soon was off in the direction of the lumber camp. Already imagining the debacle he would have to sort over there as well.

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Becky Hill Sya -Dawnhaven

“Don't worry, I have enough gold. Can run a test menu and see how much return I see, you really might be overestimating what we have!” Sya said but with no harshness, Becky seemed rather cheerful vs the other Lunarians she had met, they seemed more dour but Becky was more a bright glowing fire of energy and good emotions.

“Where I grew up, we were lucky to get them at the Lord's feast. But we brewed some really good local Shine of Selene. We traded it pretty widely in borders. ” Becky had obviously grown up and lived in a far more prosperous place than Sya and would not hold it against her, her lover was a noble lady but had so far just wanted intimate companionship and mutual treatment of each other.

"Oh! I have a dozen ideas if the ingredients are there. I hope this merchant @The Savant can get us a steady supply. We dont really have a lot stock in the tavern for much else than loaves of bread but I can get up and start a little early on that. Might be goo to see about a brick oven to be built at some point. They help in the cold season and with drawing in the crowd with the scent. Muffins bread pastries and cakes, I'll have cornered the market in this town in a week if we can do that! You'll see!" She casually nudges the tavern owner with her shoulder giving her big hearted smile!

Sya lack of a coat was not a issue to her, cold weather never had been an issue and just stayed in her tavern attire, the long skirt kept the wind off but did not have heavy fabrics, magnetic for comfort when winter really hit but this was a balmy day for a blightborn.
“it will be fine.” Sya waved her worry off and began to head out the eye, the fire burner almost constantly and they had now burned down yet. “A large hot spring, natural, has a public and more private area. It feels really nice to just stretch out in the water. It's a luxury for sure. your skin feels so much better and aches all vanish..” She said with a soft sigh.

Sya held no such fear of the dark and strode out into the night with no apprehension, she had at least two knives on her though and was hardly helpless. She blinked and soon adapted to the changing light as the whole world resolved into grey shades far into the distance. “I'm sweet enough I'm sure.” Sya said with a cheeky statement, she was feeling more like her old self, unsure how that was a thing.

Walking side by side Becky was all smile and heavy footed as they trekked there way to the merchants building. She glanced about the town still in construction and noticed the design style was more from what she heard at least Aurellian with the stones in the build to be warmed by a sun that might neve rise again. Seemed like a sturdy design. She just missed the cobble streets of Lunaris in stead of this slush of snow and mud. Come spring the heavier carts will have a hard time in this place.

Her eyes lit up. "So its a large bath? A hot bath?! Like with hot water?" Her voice nearly turned into the child like squeal of her excitement! Hot water was for the rich even back home lugging pots of hot water to the tub was a chore, sure she found a work around by heating up a stone in the dying oven heat before and carrying that with tongs to the tub and heating the water this way was nice but she couldnt get in it for fear of burning herself against the hot stone. So best she did was hot water while the dark haired woman bathed with her wash cloth and soap on a towel spread out under her. A few times this made the curvy baker give a dish a glare for enjoying such things as a hot soak. Now she would finally have a chance to try this exquisite joy for herself after so long!! Becky wasnt sure where it was so she tried her best to learn the location from her surroundings. For sure the baker would be a regular to this place nearly every night if she was to have any say!

The sweet enough statement had Becky turning her dark eyes to her employer and smile. "Dont you worry none about that Sya, when I'm done with the menu everyone will know just how sweet your place is!" She waved out her hand in an arch, "People will come all over to taste these treats when the word gets out. They will say, Sya's place is the sweet spot of the whole land! Finger licking sugar shack of either kingdom for sure!" Turning her voice a little gruffer, "No place I'd rather be then at the eye of the beholder for tasty cakes and sticky buns!" She smiled beaming really at the thought of making so many new and exciting desserts for travelers to spread the word and like the tide have double the number return. Becky imagined a shameless image of her in a tub of hot water made of gold eating cake. Her foot steps getting a little faster eager to see this hot springs!

“Relax, I can see perfectly, just all..greyish bluey green” Sya said, hooking an arm with Becky seeing as she was less sure so they would not get separated. Sya waved To Ivor, seeing him with a whole tree and spoke in a more guttural and harsher mix of border languages with Lunarian, Auralian and other loaned words. “Good morning, There's a big town clan meet, moon. Half way. Western sky. You might not have got and too few of us know this one, If you have spare firewood, I might need more, we have a baker to support Hunter Ivor.” Sya said to him and gestured to Becky next to her before she turned to lead them to the marketplace, much as it was one. Sya sounded almost more natural in that version than the common tongue as she had spoken the border language since she was a babbling baby. Sya was comically smaller than the giant woodsman though she had come to know his massive size was not intending harm to those maliciously.

The man she was introduced to set Becky's face a flame. He was big and burly with red hair as tall as any man she had ever seen! The wild look in his eyes made her legs feel like a new born deer. Her heart raced inside her chest as she looked him over in awe. Suddenly all the cake and spa thoughts melted from her mind as she found something more to life in the moment when her eyes soaked in every single mouth watering morsel that was this Ivor! Giving the huge mountain of a man a very impish wave using only the tips of her fingers to wiggle she hoped he would bring her all the fire wood in the forest to her door. Becky in turn would give him all the... meat he could ever want. "I am the cook." She said hesitantly biting her lower lip wishing she was more impressive sounding. "We were on our way to the merchant to see about supplies." Shyly darting her eyes up at him, only to have them settle back on his abs, they looked like a row of biscuits fresh from the stove, so hot ...and yummy. "I'll need a bout five bundles a day." She said in a very breathy tone, giving her figure a bit of a pose stance. She wished her hair was down but there was no time. Why the hell did she never think that there would be men out here in the frontier that would look like that!? Now he the mountain would be coming by daily to deliver, wood. The robust woman fanned her face with both hands. The heat from five stoves was all around her.

Sya had no fear as she wound her way about to the stalls and traders set up in the early morning. Flicking torches lit the wares and lamps of various kinds. “So, what do you think Becky? Anything you can work with?. The hot spring that way, post office is the tall structure, umm.. the postmaster is…Embrkin, however Pilades…is an acquired taste” Sya said with all honesty, he was perfectly hospitable but very much you liked him or you hated him.

She was still lost in her Ivor fantasies when she sleepily nodded to the "anything you can work with" comment. Coming to when she noticed he was gone and they were in what must have been the town square. She sucked on her thick bottom lip looking about the land seeing the buildings and finding it very hard to focus. She noted the market building and pointed still feeling the burning fire in her face she tried her best to form words, "That way. We need to place some orders with the merchant. @The Savant Then we can head of to this spa!" She was all excited but a little too excited, surely Sya would notice if she was to bathe now. No, it would have to wait for the baker to calm a bit before that.

Entering the market building she looked about. "Hello?"

mentions: @The MusePrince Astaros @The Savant
Interactions: Sya @PrinceAlexus construction crews @The Muse Sunni @The Savant ivor @SkeankySnack