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Ransom Demand: Finale





Miller's Hook

Ashon watched the cornered Tarlonese agent seated in the chair before them.

“The mighty rescuers of young Jaxan now arrive near the end of their journey, faced by the dreaded Tarlonese agent kidnapper. A scion of Vyshta, with a taste for tiim’sucop blood, has drawn her energy as she threatens the plucky trio,” he narrated dramatically, acting out the noble scene.

He scratched his head awkwardly. “Well, I had hoped you would simply release him safe and sound, but it looks like we might have arrived too late for that.” He glanced at Johann and then back toward Abdel.

“Where is the boy, and what have you done with him?" He peered at her searchingly, "or was the bloodshed in Tanso not enough that you hunted down a Broa’soi Jexoff Hyc’oilan over in Mudville to sate it?”

The woman studied him for a moment, mostly too tired to see any mirth in the absurdity of the situation. Then, once Ashon's diatribe was over, she found it. "Well, you're about as smart as you look," she observed, "which is probably to be expected of the people who've bashed and burned their way through this town without much of a thought for its inhabitants."

"We've left those people behind," countered Johann and he, too, had drawn some.

She rose so quickly that they didn't even have time to be alarmed until after it happened. In contrast, she reached for her crutches almost languidly. "Almost like him, really." She shook her head. "He's a timewalker. He was feeding the addicts, begging for those forward-thinking Consoi to blind him." She let out a snort. "Leaving them to deal with the fallout, too, and me to try to heal them." She took a few steps, glancing over her shoulder at Ashon and Johann evaluatively. "Then he ran into his product - and the biggest one he'd made, quite fittingly - and went qarii duul pa tesh.* I knocked him out before he could tear anybody limb from limb." She glanced down at her stump ironically. "But, sure, you're the hero of the story." Her gaze levered back up to meet Ashon's, all but ignoring Johann. "Go bring him back to that plucky bunch of good guys calling themselves 'Resistance'." She all but rolled her eyes.

Ashon spread his arms wide. “Vyshta smiled on us in fortune after all. He is safe and sound, being returned to us,” he announced with a broad smile.

“We're here on behalf of his parents. Some opportunistic bandits severed a man's finger and sent it to them, demanding ransom money.” He shook his head. “Grisly business, I dare say.” He put his hands together and performed the 'missing finger' trick, then shock as he feigned an inability to return it, then shook it to normalcy.

“Though next time, instead of kidnapping. You knock him out and stick him in a hospital. They have these special hay-padded rooms for the frenzied ones. Then you can return to have your Ypti’saluuv.”

"Thanks for the advice, doctor." She motioned with her chin and began leading them towards the back of the home, where stairs waited. "But there aren't exactly a lot of places equipped to handle him here in Mudville, and the only one close enough is full of his victims." She turned to face them at the top of the stairs and shook her head tightly. "That brings us to his parents. You said you're working for them, right?"

It was about this time that Xiuyang burst through the open door, out of breath, leaving Oksana and Seviin to contend with their impromptu little tour guide, and Abdel to either approve of her intervention or not, consequences be damned. "...Jamboi, wait..!" she panted, her hand reaching out toward the pair of yasoi with drawn energies that had spurred her to quick and reckless action. "Jaxan... haa... was never kidnapped. He ran away on his own..!" she wheezed. Catching her breath, she tried on a reassuring look as her eyes met Thantra.

For Xiuyang, there was no escaping how the situation looked. Jaxan had been subdued—the evidence was all around her—and Jamboi, bless his soul, was about to follow a possibly hostile stranger into a basement. If this had been the Colas, she would have called out the situation for what it obviously was. Yet, she... wanted to believe that it wasn't. Thantra was a good person, if any shred of what she'd been told today was true. For the girl who always seemed to see the worst possible outcome first in any given situation, it felt unnatural, but... she would trust this woman.

To atone for the sin of denying what is good and beautiful in the world, and seeing only what is evil and wretched—she would try harder to see.

"Thantra has been looking after him, making sure he stays out of trouble." She looked at Ashon as she proposed her theory. Then, she looked at Thantra. "In fact, she's a bit of a missing person's case, herself. Saydii and the others were worried about you, too, you know?"

“They were concerned about their precious little Jaxan,” Ashon said, rocking his arms as if cradling a baby. “The boy had been swaddled up in their branches and never faced the dangers of the big bad world, especially the encircling predators who wanted an easy target. Another spoiled Broa’soi. Perhaps we should encourage Papa Osmax to stiip’posh him after the mess he caused.” As he made the appropriate gesture.

He then booped Xiuyang on the nose as she arrived after her dramatic revelation. “Thanks for the heads-up, Inquisitive Explorer,” he said with a wide, cheeky grin and a wink. “He wanted to stick it to the big bad Tarlonese and lost to the first one he came across. What a sad day indeed.”

Oksana followed after Xiuyang and Seviin into the building at a more measured pace. If there was going to be a brawl, it would have happened by now, and it would have stopped when the other two intervened.

As they approached Ashon and the other woman, Oksana stood next to Johann. She held the picture up beside Thantra, comparing the drawn red-headed girl to the one at the other side of the room, and pointed at it as she looked toward the man.

At Ashon's answer, Thantra was about to respond, but she paused, for there was now the sound of someone bustling in and, a moment later, shouting. Her eyes widened and she took a half-step back, nearly falling down the stairs before feeling nothing beneath her crutches and catching herself. Shaken and incredulous, she glanced between Ashon and the newly-arrived Xiuyang. Moments later, a second yasoi woman hurried through the door.

"I - Saydii. God...spax!" Thantra pursed her lips. "And Mother Gracie?" She looked pained, but she did not release the energy she'd drawn - not yet. "Tell them I'm sorry," she addressed Xiuyang. "He went jamspax and then both the Tarlonese and the Resistance were looking for a 'one-legged woman with red hair' and those aren't exactly on special at Volta's." Her eyes flicked between them once more. "You wanna come down? You wanna take a look?"

"Very much, suunei." Seviin glanced at Xiuyang and offered a small supportive smile. She sought out Ashon as well with her eyes.

"It's not a trap," Thantra promised. "I'm Tarlonese, but I'm no ensa'thriip." She paused. "Apple seller." She motioned with her chin, clearly antsy, and turned to take a step down the stairs.

Johann leaned in. His eyes flicked between the drawing and Thantra, and then over to Oksana. He pursed his lips as they completed their circuit a couple more times. He didn't nod. In fact, he seemed to give no reaction at first. Then, Oksana would see him raise a hand slowly and make an OK gesture.

He smiled. "Do we trust her?" he mouthed in Oksana's direction, saying not a word.

"Can we really be sure that he wanted to join the resistance? All we had last I knew were the words of some... street kids," Xiuyang chose a more polite term as she replied to Ashon.

Then, she addressed Thantra. "Mother Gracie too, yes. We're neither Tarlon or resistance, so please be at ease. I'm not here to take him away if he doesn't want to go. I just want to talk to him." She made to follow her down the stairs.

Oksana simply looked towards him and shrugged her shoulders at the comment. She gestured back out the door, referencing some of their missing members. "Trust anyone?" she queried, her brow furrowed.

It was late in the hours of Dorrad as they headed down the stairs, Thantra going first, the sound of her footsteps melding into the cacophony of the others, thumping and creaking as they hustled down.

They reached the bottom and there stood a door. Thantra raised a hand. "Be very careful," she warned, twisting to look their way. "There are aberrations everywhere." She shook her head. "It's one of the reasons I've had to keep him restrained. The couple time's he's woken up, he's also been saying outright crazy things." She pursed her lips and turned back, pushing open the door and raising her stump. "I think he must've taken one by accident." She conjured a soft beacon of light at the end of it and headed through. Seviin, also, conjured a flickering pulse in one of her palms and followed.

There, in the basement, on a mattress, lay Jaxan. He was about sixteen or seventeen, with shoulder-length brown hair and a bruise on one cheek. He'd been smart enough to ditch his fine clothes, at least, for he looked like any other urchin.

"Hold!" cried Thantra, as Johann nearly walked into an aberration, and he nodded gratefully her way and took a step to dodge it. The Tarlonesewoman came to a stop and crouched low beside him, leaning on the mattress and sliding into a sitting position at its corner after a moment. "They're coming for him," she said, "The Tarlonese, the Resistance, his parents - he's especially hostile to those, and nobody seems to care very much about what he needs."

She drew her single long leg up until her knee rested against her chest. Her right arm wrapped around it while her left reached out and fixed Jaxan's hair. "Listen, I know you have your orders and it's probably for the best, but this kid's lost. He's a privileged little prat who craves affirmation much too hard and doesn't understand the consequences of his actions on the little people." She regarded them all steadily. "He'll get it from anywhere and he's... vulnerable." She glanced down at him. "I say this as one myself, you know - or at least a recovering one."

"There's a girl there I don't know. Johann shrugged. "Abdel is... rough with people but useful. The others?" He paused, brow furrowed, as they started walking. "Well, we can trust them to fuck up, I think."

Then, they were down and he was nearly stumbling into an aberration. Where the others' lights were arcane things: soft and refined, his was a crackling conjuration of chemical magic, casting a flicking orange glow across the room. There were at least four other aberrations aside from the one that had nearly surprised him, and an unpleasant feeling in the air that was starting to give him a headache...

Ashon squatted down, looking at the figure. “Well, what he needed was the removal of a silver spoon from a young age,” he said, folding his arms as he gave the boy a once-over. “It’s clear he’s out of control. Last time I saw a scene like this, the occupant was blinded and put in a bird cage surrounded by the wretched,” he gestured towards the surrounding aberrations.

He looked at Thantra. “He wouldn’t have it as easy as you,” he said, scratching underneath his eye. “With the seers, you have the lapses, the flashbacks, the jumps, never mind the visions on top of that. They’re always a little bonkers as a result," he twirled a finger against his head. “And if they get addicted, they’ll lose their sanity completely. They’re their own dealer,” he gestured a gun shooting toward his own head.

“I’ve got some experience with their kind,” he continued. “They were raising me to be a handmaiden for one,” he waved the statement away. “Dereliction of duty, ran away, yadda yadda, but I can tell you this is one jam’spax of a situation.” He crossed his arms. “Unless he has a strong purpose and will, perhaps putting him in the care of another would be the best outcome for him.”

Thantra nodded along as Ashon spoke, but then she stopped. "You're one of us, aren't you?" she said, and it was more observation than question. She pulled her knee in tighter and offered a faint smile and a shrug. "Unlike him and basically anyone from down south, we, in Tarlon, are trained to harness our powers in the name of the Fatherland." She let out a snort, conjuring a tiny white aberration in the palm of her hand before closing it and snuffing the thing out.

"You're right about the situation. That's probably why he's gone to the Resistance." She narrowed her eyes. "But do you - " She let her other arm fall away from her knee, and her leg stretched out in front of her as she gestured towards the entire group. "All of you - think that's best based on what you know?"

Xiuyang was obviously unsettled by the presence of aberrations, but forced herself to follow. For a while she just listened, letting the yasoi speak on the matters they knew better than her. Instead, she occupied herself tending to Jaxan, looking for anything she could do to help him. She'd just healed the bruise on his face when Thantra posed her question.

"I don't think he hates his parents. I think he hates the silver spoon," she countered. "He wants to help the refugees, same as me, right? ...When I was a girl, there was an illness spreading near our family home in eastern Torragon. I grew up watching people get sick and die. I couldn't do anything for them, but I would sneak out sometimes and just... be there for them. I heard many awful deathbed confessions and regrets. When my father found out what I was doing, he was furious, of course."

She let the story settle for a moment before getting to the point. "I know what it's like to grow up surrounded by a purpose, a just cause, and be unable, forbidden, or unsupported by family in doing it. 'For our own good.' For people like me, that gilded cage of undeserved comfort and affection is miserable. The silver spoon of privilege is a sweet, well-intentioned poison that slowly kills us inside. ...but it is preferable to living in an actual cage, forced to make... those things." She scowled. "...Ideally, they should talk. My father and I spoke of many things we should have years ago, after I survived my own... kidnapping. ...For us, it took that for me to really know how precious I was to him." She frowned.

“You think I’d be here without my snazzy blindfold and robes?” Ashon scratched his nose, rolling up a booger as he looked back at her. “So, two renegade timewalkers on the run.” He wiped the booger on Jaxan’s tunic.

“What do you propose? To take him under your wing as your apprentice? Set up a Consoi Academy for gifted individuals, teaching them how to be responsible with their powers?” He pumped his fist into his hand. “You know, that idea isn’t terrible. The great Jamboi’Ismax strikes gold once again.”

Johann nodded along with much of what Xiuyang was saying. Momentarily, he twisted to... fix his tangled satchel and then investigate the shape of one of the aberrations.

"I've no desire to play the saviour." Thantra shook her head and she may have just been replying to both Xiuyang and Ashon. "It's a thankless fuckin' job." Her eyes shifted between the pair and she scowled when the latter went to wipe a loogie on Jaxan. She looked about to say something to Xiuyang, but then she shrugged as if to dismiss the thought. These people didn't seem bad, but they also didn't need to know her past.

"Thing is," she continued, "I don't know if he's safe anywhere. The resistance wanna use him." She ticked one item off on her fingers. "The hax'olop wanna stop them and will just view him as a tool or a worthless addict if they can't 'fix' him." She counted another and regarded Ashon and his antics with a snort. "I think you need to learn as much as you want to teach, and his parents..." She trailed off, tongue momentarily darting out to wet dry lips as she considered. Her hand fell back to her side. "Most of what he said was incoherent. It didn't make a lot of sense." She shook her head tightly. "But he seemed really adamant that his parents shouldn't find him."

It was at about that moment that Seviin interrupted. "He's coming back," she said simply, crouching by his bedside. "Should we help him? she suggested. "Or keep him down?" It was Johann, leaning over the scene with a pensively furrowed brow.

Xiuyang bit her lip, considering. "We can't afford to spend too much time deliberating on what's right or not. It isn't our decision to make in the end anyway, but it's more concerning that everyone and their half-cousin is looking for him and Thantra. We need to get him to the safety of the white walls and the Zenos. Then we can afford to talk."

Ashon moved his arm around Jaxan’s shoulders. “End of the day, the ‘choice’ needs to be his, doesn’t it?” He patted the boy as he looked at the others. “If he wants to be fixed by the hax’olop, sign up with the resistance, or get a good stiip’posh from his parents, it’s down to him. He may simply want to go on a journey and find his place in the world that way.” He shrugged his own shoulders. “He has the capability to make an unwise decision and face the consequences that come with it. Don’t you, Jaxan?” He licked his pinkie and twisted it against his ear to help wake the boy up.

"You might not want to be doing -"

Jaxan twitched and his eyes fluttered open. At the sound of Thantra's voice, they fixed upon her.

"- That."

A phenomenal burst of kinetic force slammed into the ginger-haired woman and she tumbled back, somehow absorbing it all without any serious injury. She was strong.

"Joith!" he shrieked. "Joith'a tox et!"

He scrabbled back, eyes wide and wild and, if he at least seemed lucid, he did not appear entirely right either. His gaze fluttered frantically between the people in the dim room and he took in the humans. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Why are you with this Tarlonese taca!?" He began trying to stand. Thantra rose as well, a weary sort of anger on her face.

"You're safe, Jaxan! We came because we were worried about you," Xiuyang replied simply at first, holding her hands up in a disarming gesture. "We were sent to protect you from the people who are after you," she calmly explained, leaving out the part about bringing him home for now to avoid making him panic. "We can prove it if you need us to." And they could. After all, they had the money his parents gave them.

Abdel did still have the money on him, didn't he?

Ashon simply shrugged as he sat back and let the others take the lead initially, and spoke up after they were done.

“Your parents are paying for your safe return, the Resistance is missing their newest recruit, the Hax’olops want to snatch you, and this one…” he jerked his thumb back toward Thantra, “wants you to stop being a poca and spreading your spax all over the place.” He pointed to the aberrations that surrounded them. “I would recommend you stop that at least, as it’s the fastest way to end up blinded, shoved in a cage, and singing for your dinner like a canary down a mineshaft.”

He gestured wide with his arms, in a reverent manner before Jaxan, “So, what is the path you see before you, young seer?”



Elsewhere...

Elsewhere, a young woman walked through a gate. She walked through it and disappeared on the other side. She had sensed what was happening elsewhere.

It had been frustrating. Dory might've been able to do something were it not for Lunara – were it not for Ashon, Seviin, Xiuyang, and all of the other bleeding hearts who consistently impeded her efforts. Their relentless moralizing had been a constant thorn in her side. Abdel and Johann had been weak-kneed too. Ethical conflicts when it came to disgusting criminals like that was laughable.. This was a thankless endeavour, after an attempt at questioning some locals had led precisely nowhere, Dory's patience had worn thin. She had decided she was done with it.

Dory had her own agendas and, while she had made some progress towards them during this mess,it hadn't been as much as she'd hoped. Each step forward had been met with resistance, stymied at nearly every turn by obstacles and the meddling of her so-called allies. Perhaps she could've taken Lunara, but she did not. Instead, another idea had occurred to her when she'd sensed what had to have been the final payoff.

After a little while the girl found the home she had arrived at her destination. A small part of her was still rather amused by the fact she was working with them, but when a task is at hand Dory is not above working with the scallywagging long-ears. She proudly reported to the couple the progress.

She soon after left accompanied with familiar faces. Talthan and his wife Emenii, along with two other yasoi that seemed to have joined them after hearing the parents’ their plea. As a group they marched towards the commotion, led by the girl they employed. Jaxan will be in secure hands soon.



Jaxan's eyes darted about, taking in the multiple figures in the room. "I...ugh." He sat up, nodding at Ashon and Xiuyang, but then his eyes came to rest on Thantra. A hand shot out, pointing angrily at her. "Her!" he shouted. "All I see is her!" He shook his head. "I was helping the wretched, on my way to join the Resistance when this Tarlonese taca attacked me and -"

"You were feeding addicts with aberrations and tweaking, you fucking loser!" Thantra cut in, rising with a huff. "You ran into your own shit and tried to blow a girl up and I stopped you. Then you attacked me when you woke up and said you'd call the Resistance here to kill me."

"You're lying!" Jaxan erupted, bolting to his feet. "You're a Tarlonese agent and a kidnapper. You think I'm stupid and soft!" he shouted, taking in all of them, "'Cause my parents are rich!" he shook his head, but Thantra spun on her heel, crutches flashing out and nearly striking a couple of people. "You know what? Good luck, all of you. You're a lying piece of shit, Jaxan, and I don't know you can even look yourself in the mirror." She put foot in front of crutches and started to stalk away. "You and the Resistance fucking deserve each other."

"You think I didn't talk to your apple seller?" he shouted at her back, having to be restrained by one of the visitors. "Didn't pretend to be interested?"

She paused for a second, midstep, but shook her head tightly and continued toward the stairs.

"You think he didn't tell me to find the one-legged woman?"

Xiuyang stood between them, caught in the crossfire of their heated argument. As far as she knew, Jaxan was lying—Mother Gracie's story backed up what Thantra was saying—but, would it be for the best, if Jaxan was in a paranoid state, to bring that up?

Then, she heard what might be a saving grace. "Wait a minute. There are several one-legged yasoi women running around. My sources tell me Thantra is a neutral. Are you sure you're not confusing her for someone else?" she tried. As the seconds ticked by, she fought away the urge to check her pocket watch, keeping her focus on Jaxan instead. "Regardless, we need to leave. We're sitting ducks in this basement and we need to get you somewhere safe. Is there some reason why you can't trust your parents?" she offered empathetically.

Johann gave Oksana a prompt, as if on cue, as the girl inched closer. She brought out her incredible drawing of not one, but two girls. She recalled what Seviin and Xiuyang had said to her earlier. Moving her finger from the red-haired girl to the one with brown hair, missing a leg on the opposite side, she explained, "She met with Yasoi with white hair.” She prodded firmly on the page at the brunette, emphasising her point.

Jaxan whirled. "So you're telling me there's a second one-legged bitch?" He looked incredulous, eyes darting towards Thantra's back, but then Johann was urging Oksana forward and she thrust her drawing into Jaxan's field of vision. "I..." He clicked his jaw shut, gaze flicking once more at Thantra, who'd turned at the foot of the stairs, barely visible. "Fuck," he hissed, clenching both his teeth and his fists. He looked Ashon's way as well. "I... listen. I'm sorry, okay. Fuck. I bet they knew. I bet they were setting me up, and you. They don't like dissenters."

"They try to bring us back in or, if not, they threaten our families back home," said Seviin, standing straight and stiff.

"But I'm not gonna end up in a cage - not if the Resistance needs me. I'll work on my abilities. I'll learn how to see through time. I... see myself doing it."

Thantra, who'd come tentatively back in, had stopped beside Oksana and was stifling a burst of laughter at the drawing that felt almost incongruous, so in contrast was it to the heightened tension in that basement.

"My parents," Jaxan continued, belatedly addressing both Ashon's and Xiuyang's questions, "I don't trust them because I've seen into the future: I've seen them fight against the Resistance, fight against me."

Then, Johann's voice cut in. "Xiuyang was right. I'm getting something from Abdel. Unknowns approaching: six, male, yasoi." He looked up just as Ashon began to receieve the same message. "I don't think we should be waiting here."

Xiuyang flashed Oksana a smile as she listened to Jaxan speak. "Okay, but... How far into the future? And why?" she prodded. She didn't seem to want to believe what she was hearing; she was dealing with complicated emotions of her own. All of those were put aside when she heard Johann's voice, though. Immediately, she made for the stairs, checking her hips for something hidden.

Ashon stood up and did a stretch, “Well, the boy can see the future and made up his mind.”

“Now tell me do ya, do ya have any money?”, he placed his hand around the boys shoulder. “All these yanii have been tearing up the place on your behalf to make sure you are nice and safe for a big handful of it.” He gestured a big filled coin purse in his hand, “If you want to do them a solid, as they want to do the right thing here, allow them to escort you back. Spin your folks a story, so they get their pats on their back and pockets full of silver. Then after that, you can find yourself Cryin’ in no time.”

"Or, you can trust the good will of the Welcoming Party heading this way."

Jaxan's eyes darted between Xiuyang, Ashon, and the others. "Cud!" he swore, "Spax spax spax!" He gritted his teeth and held his wrists out like a prisoner waiting to be cuffed, expression one of martyrdom. "Tuutuu, juup'ap." Pained, he squeezed his eyelids shut. (1)

"Ga!" groaned Thantra. "Vyshtii bubbex!" She grabbed him and began pulling him, pausing for a moment to push him into Seviin. "All of you, you're his saviours, luuca?" (2)

Seviin nodded. "Luuca, suunei."

"Liin." She hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The students surrounded Jaxan, bringing him up amid them and, when they reached the top, where light streamed in through half-shuttered windows, they could feel the burgeoning energies of their semi-expected visitors just outside. Creeping up to one and pushing it a sliver open, Johann listened and observed, along with the others. (3)

"Okay, yeah, I get that you're here for Jaxan," Abdel was saying to a group of six yasoi men, "but who are you?" Just in case, Maribet was attempting to translate, looking intensely anxious.

It was at around that moment, from different directions, that Lunara slunk in with Miray, and Talthan'chal'doridax, Emenii'del'doridax, and a handful of escorts arrived... led by Dorothea.

Lunara on noticing Dory was escorting Jaxan's parents, she gave a slight nod, and continued to follow the group of yasoi's she was already following. after the six yasoi men, from a distance she noticed the group stop and talk to another yasoi outside of the building where the energy is emanating from.

Lunara decided to use this distraction to slowly make her way towards them closely followed by Miray, she hoped to hear what they were saying but wasn't sure if she would understand it.

Ashon tapped his chin. “Have you heard the tale of the Return of the Wayward Son?”

He looked between the others. “This is a tale where our boy Jaxan is kidnapped by the so-called Tarlonese Witch, who is actually a very pleasant lady, who is going to hop away with a menacing evil laugh after being thwarted by the heroes. She’ll get a really good head start, and Seviin can follow her in a ‘chase.’ Then, I go outside and have a chat with the nice Yasoi, and send them home Cryin’. The great heroes Johann and Xiuyang deliver Jaxan to his parents, who will sing loudly about how we saved him. They’ll be over the moon and pay us handsomely. Then everyone can go back to their lives with a job well done.”

“Any objections? Suggestions? Improvements?” His eyes scanned the room.

Thantra regarded Ashon through his entire little performance, arms crossed, stump resting on a crutch handle, eyebrow raised sardonically, but she nodded along agreeably enough. At the end, she had only four words to say: "Nan yr: liic nax." She sighed, gripped her crutches, and regarded him, eyes flicking Jaxan's way.

Ashon gave a thumbs up, and planted the big bag of bennies into the palm of her hand, "You can have my share once it is paid."

Seviin also chipped in, "I do not care for worldly things. I make the same offer, suunei."

Xiuyang emerged slowly, taking stock of the new arrivals. The six yasoi were suspicious but non-violent for the moment. Then there was Dory, with Jaxan's parents. Her reaction was mixed: it was a brilliant move, wasn't it? Hadn't she just salvaged this entire situation from the brink of combat? Yet there was a shred of doubt in the back of her mind: were they really Jaxan's parents?

She ducked back behind the door, addressing Jaxan. "They're here. Maybe it's arrogant of me, but I feel like I know what you're going through, in some ways. I used to think my own father didn't really love me. I tried so hard to earn his approval, to prove myself worthy. Please, talk to them—your parents. You can help others and make the world a better place without endangering yourself. Don't do anything reckless. Well... nothing irreversibly reckless, alright?" She caught herself in a bit of hypocrisy and smirked playfully.

Then, she regarded Ashon. "Uh, yeah. Are you going to catch the real one-legged Tarlonese agent and clear her name, or insist she live in hiding forever?" she replied skeptically. "If it were my own father, he wouldn't rest until my kidnapper was dead... barring a few notable exceptions," she added bitterly.

"My parents only care for their idea of me," Jaxan said, with a bitterness that, while bordering on the melodramatic, was also keenly felt, "not the real me - not what I want, not even what's best for the world." He set his jaw. "I'll play along, though."

Xiuyang moved on and Thantra nodded at her words. "Not gonna lie: that'd be nice. Tarlon doesn't exactly love me. Consoi want me dead." She shrugged. "I just wanna be a Tan-Zeno, you know?" Xiuyang smiled at Thantra. "Yeah, me too." She nodded her consent to her terms, and waited for her to execute the plan.

Ashon was offering her money, though, and making a plan that she had only some misgivings about, and time was not something they had. She regarded those around her. "I do want my name cleared," she declared, "And I want your word that, if they try to kill me, you'll step in."

Johann stepped forward. "I pledge the whole of my cash earnings and I will not let them harm you." He bowed chivalrously.

"Right, then." Thantra nodded. She glanced over at Jaxan. "Sorry if I was, uh... rough with you."

"Sorry if I thought you were evil."

The Tarlonese released a snort of mirth and waved him off, grasping her crutches tightly and stalking up to the door. "I'm kind of a tiims'archa here." She twisted about and twitched her stump for a moment, but then she set her jaw, took and deep breath, and focused. "I'll need about three seconds. Longer, and they go after me themselves. Shorter, and you'll catch me in no time."

Meanwhile, as a plan was hatched inside the row house, the two groups standing outside had noticed each other. "You!" shouted Emenii, Jaxan's mother, "Who are you and why are you here?"

The leader of the group of six ignored her and focused, instead, on her husband. "Doridax?" he asked tentatively. "Talthan'chal'doridax?"

"The same. Who's asking?"

"You've supported us in the past," the man answered nebulously, and husband and wife both shot each other looks. "Who's that with you?" His chin motioned at Dorothea, "and the other one who followed us." He jerked a thumb in Lunara's direction.

It was at about that very moment that the door burst open and a one-legged Tarlonese agent came barreling out, hurtling all four steps and landing in a crouch. She ran away with surprising speed - all that she could muster, shouting, "Nar spax, consoi!"

Inside the home, clustered about the door, waited the others. Johann held three fingers up and counted down.

Three.

Two.

One.

Seviin bolted through to sell the idea and Johann raised a hand once more.

Three.

Two.

One.

...



The Chase

Lunara on seeing that she was pointed at just gave them a smile and waved until the one-legged yasoi came bursting out of the door, quickly followed by Seviin. She noticed that Seviin was going alone and shouted to her. "Seviin do you want some help? Are you sure it's ok for you to follow her alone?"

Ahead of Niallus he sensed two people coming towards him. From a long distance, the first looked like they had a jolly hop in their step. The second, it felt familiar to him, but he wasn't too sure on why. He slowed his pace to that of a light jog, waiting to get a look at the two as they come past. However he was curious about the latter, and who that familiar energy belonged too.

Elsewhere, Thantra raced through the narrow streets at a breakneck pace... at least by her standards. Seviin gained slowly on her and Lunara even more so. She blew past Niallus and, when he spotted the other two, it was clear that they were chasing a bad guy who was trying to make her escape through the Seagate. In the distance, he could sense at least three more yasoi starting to give chase, but they were well back.

The one-legged woman was almost within his reach this very moment. She slowed momentarily at the foot of a apartment above a shop. A kinetically powered lunge would nab her! Otherwise, he'd fall behind as well.

Lunara, meanwhile had gained ground with surprising ease. Seviin was surprisingly slow, hardly even gaining on a monoped! Then, the yasoi reached an arm out. "She's on our side. It's a trick," she panted, still running. Meanwhile, Thantra leapt onto a low-lying awning, clambered onto a windowsill, and took off across the roof of a house.

Seeing the Yasoi run slash hop past him, she was remarkably agile. But his attention shifted to the second person, It was Seviin, then Lunara and her Goma Cat. Something was off, if she wanted to catch the other Yasoi why didn't she shout Niallus to help, unless she doesn't, he'll have to ask as she comes past.

As Seviin started to get closer to him, he matched both hers and Lunaras pace. "Funny running into you two like this. Are we trying to catch this person?" He asked Seviin as he watch Thantra climb to the rooftops.

Seviin, breathless, turned to Niallus, slipping her arm under his, for they were the exact same height. "Niallus, moila." She reached for Lunara's arm as well. "Lunii suunei." She slowed them both down. "It's all a trick. She's good people, trying to do the right thing, and I think we have, today."

Thantra bounded from one rooftop to the next, but all of her pursuit seemed to have fallen off. She slowed. She slid down an eavestrough, and dropped to the ground. There, she dusted herself off, rose, and walked over to the Seagate, finally free.

Niallus raised a brow a bit confused by this, but then again, he has been gone for a while. "Ok, I trust you." going along with what his friend has mentioned to him. "You'll have to catch me up on whats happened." He asked her, as the group slowly came to a stop.

Upon hearing what Seviin was saying Lunara nodded with it, she placed a finger and her thumb to her mouth and whistled.

In the direction where Thantra ran off to, a small head bobbed itself up, hearing the whistle. It was Miray, it seemed that even though her master and company slow down, Miray did not. She climbed down from the roof that she got onto ready to chase Thantra, upon coming down she stopped in front of Lunara "That’s enough chasing." she said, giving Miray head scratches. Miray began to purr, after Lunara finished petting her cat, it seemed that Miray was in an affectionate mood, rubbing herself on Lunara, Seviin and Niallus' legs, purring.



Resolution

Ashon came out shortly after and approached the group of Yasoi standing there. “Oh! Reinforcements! Great. I will need you all to come with me while we track her down. We think she is heading to the Seagate to get into Ersand’Enise.”

He nodded his head with a bow toward the parents and gestured firmly toward the merry band of Yasoi, leading them away with him.

Dory squinted her eyes. That was a one-legged yasoi, all right. Soon enough Seviin would follow the hopping one. She decided to let it go as protecting the parents took precedent. In fact, overhearing the group of six speak to the father grabbed her attention. The noble raised an eyebrow. ”Acquaintances of yours, Herr Doridax?”

Not that it truly mattered, Jaxan took priority over some random folks.

Xiuyang addressed Jaxan once more. "I thought the same of my father. He only seemed interested in having me take over the family company. It was only after I was rescued from my own kidnapping that I saw how wrong I was." She squeezed his shoulder. "I'm not going to dictate what I think is right or wrong to you. I'm just concerned, and not just because I'm getting paid. Whatever you decide to do, be certain of it. If you aren't, take some time to think it over. You can't make both an emotional decision and a smart one." With that, she led him out the door and toward the father, wary eyes on the six strangers.

"Ashon, Miret, Mycan," called the leader of the resistance, "Go with him. Bag her at any cost." He turned towards Ashon before the youth could depart and while Talthan and Emenii were being spoken to by Dory. "Juup joi muul juu lex?" he said in Hyparian. (1)

Jaxan's parents, meanwhile, twisted to regard the Feskan. "vorgetäuschte Bekanntschaften," said Emenii. "Sie sind diejenigen, die unseren Sohn mitnehmen. Wir müssen sie aus... offensichtlichen Gründen aufhalten," added Talthan, narrowing his eyes.

Jaxan seemed less than thrilled to go over to his parents, but he nodded, at least willing to consider Xiuyang's words. For a moment, he looked at her, an unspoken world passing between them. "Thanks, huh?" He collected himself. "I... probably look like a selfish prat," he murmured, at a volume none but she could likely hear, "but I'm not changing my mind either. Our people need to fight and my parents will never fight. They just hand over some money and smuggle a few things on their ships so they can stay in the know."

He reached out her hand to shake it and then he was smiling and grateful and everything his parents might've hoped for. The transformation was simply jarring. there was no other way to put it. "Aluu," he said to his father. "Aloi," he greeted his mother.

Xiuyang shook Jaxan's hand. "If you are, I suppose that makes two of us." There was both disappointment and empathy in her eyes. As she let go of him, she slipped something small into his pocket before stepping behind him to let him and his parents speak freely. She remained nearby in case her support was needed, but her focus seemed to shift to the chase leading toward the Seagate, as she once again checked her pocketwatch.

Ashon stuck his thumb up and winked as he commented further, “The Doridax pay good money. Their son is precious, so do well, and they might give you a bonus. The Hax’olop won’t wait for the saplings to sprout.” He clapped his hands with his palms cupped to get their attention.

He gestured encouragingly and insistently for them to come with him.

Dory nodded in response to Talthan's words. "Ah, das habe ich mir schon gedacht." She chuckled before looking over at the yasoi that addressed her employer. "Was sollen wir mit ihnen tun? Sie erst einmal gehen lassen? Oder Gewalt anwenden?" The cloak was slightly crooked, which caught the girl's eye and adjusted it right away. "Meine Güte, that was a little unladylike of me, huh?" She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to keep the mood as nonchalant as she could.

"Ashon, Miret, Mycan!" the Resistance leader - who Ashon knew as Aras - shouted again, and the trio, just starting to take off, halted abruptly. "You three stay here and keep an eye on things. Chasto, you join them!" The scrambled to make it so and he turned quickly, taking one more of his people, and made to follow Ashon.

Ashon raised an eyebrow as he wanted all of them out of there; however, he led Aras and his plus one aside so they could talk more privately. with appropriate measures.

“Nice that you sent the gang, but we need him to return to his parents, for now,” he said hurriedly. “The yanii want their payday. Once this is completed, it's a job well done, and they will be on their way. Jaxan will act the part and play along with being kidnapped and grateful for being returned home. Then, he will meet up with you all once the coast is clear. He has some big ideals about trying to make a difference in this world.”

“We do, however, have an Ensa’thriip, a yasoi with white hair. They seem to have been hiding in the cola territory. He is working with a yrash girl with brown hair. The red-haired one is a do gooder, she is putting on a performance. The real Tarlonese are after grabbing Jaxan for their own ends.”

Jaxan maintained his smile the entire way through and, when they were done, he reached into his pocket, ran his fingers over the gift, and looked back up at Xiuyang. "I wish we could've gotten to know each other better," he admitted, looking at her awkwardly as he shuffled past. "I think we would've had a lot to talk about."

"Es sieht so aus, als ob der dumme Affe sich für uns um sie kümmert," said Talthan. "Ich glaube, sie schmieden Pläne," added Emeni. "Wir sollten sie im Auge behalten." Her voice lowered. "Do you have any sonic magic?"

Then, however, Jaxan was passing into the arms of his parents, and they rushed forward to embrace him. "Son," said his father, offering a squeeze of the shoulder, even as his mother nearly tackled him. "I am more relieved at your safety than I could every express with words."

"Naxa semprii!" Emenii all-but attacked Jaxan with her love. "Naxa semprii! Joi ya doin! Doin." She breathed into his shoulder, shuddering with tears, not letting him move from her arms. "Elai el'juup joi yash patiir?" Elai el'juup joi juup pa juu luum?" (1)

The runners passed into the hazy edge of Xiuyang's sensing range and would be gone momentarily. Johann stood there with an awkward smile on his face and he suddenly seemed nothing so formidable as he had during yesterday's fight in the warehouse. Instead, he was merely a chubby boy who was lost for words. In any case, Talthan saved him. "You've done good work - all of you - better than we could've asked for." There weren't tears in his eyes, were there? "He's back, safe and sound."

"I'm right here, dad."

"Yes, son. Yes you are." He ruffled the seventeen-year-old's hair fondly, only to have his hand batted away.

"And there is just so much you've missed!" cried Emenii, pinching his ear in fond nagging. Jaxan's face seemed to say nothign so much as "you have consigned me to this hell. You've done this." Talthan nodded both in acknowledgement and in a businesslike manner. "Indeed, puuri." He smiled at his wife. "But first, a Doridax always pays his debts." He smiled at Xiuyang, Dory, and Johann, reaching into his satchel and pulling out four small jewelry boxes, and then five more. These, he somewhat clumsily handed over to the students, not quite sure what to do with his hands. He was going to shake theirs, but then they were full! "Do make sure everyone gets one!" Emenii chirped, eyes darting between the three and with special fondness, to Dorothea.

Aras pursed his lips. "And you couldn't have told me any of this earlier?" he hissed, two of his underlings continuing the chase while he spoke. Presently, he called their names - "Miret! Mycan!"

"Stop!" came the voice that had to be Miret's almost mockingly.

"Vyshtii bubbex," groaned Mycan, turning on his heel. Aras smirked, but then he turned to Ashon again, in seriousness.

“I am not the timewalker; it’s not like I could see this coming.” He smirked in a goofy manner at the comment, giving a light smack against the top of his own head for the terrible joke.

“But this is me telling you the plan as early as I could. Everyone wins, except the parents. Don’t need to see the future to know how pissed they will be.”

"You say that as if this is the last time I'll ever see you. Haven't you learned anything today?" Xiuyang replied with a wink. With that, she'd left him to his overbearing parents. She regarded the pocketwatch one final time before putting it away to receive their well-earned reward.

Jaxan eyed the group with silent loathing. Xiuyang just smirked at him and shrugged her shoulders. Hang in there, her eyes seemed to say. When Talthan approached, her face turned serious. "The ones who sought to profit from your heartbreak are no more," she assured him. "I hope the message we've sent to their ilk will be received clearly."

Aras furrowed his brow. He narrowed his eyes. He did not necessarily trust easily, but the parents had, somehow, managed to get here earlier and pip them at the line. It would've come down to a fight that would've cost both parties and, more importantly, would've meant the end of a potentially useful relationship. If the Doridaxes had always seemed somewhat lukewarm, the fervent belief of their son was nearly as valuable to the Resistance as a tool in winning them over as his... other uses would be more conventionally. "So be it," the elder magus allowed with a sigh. "Perhaps we might even win his parents over truly, and for more than just political posturing." He nodded, trying to digest it. "Thank you for this, moila. You are a true one."

Xiuyang, meanwhile, was receiving gratitude of her own. "Come forward," Talthan commanded. "Embrace me so that all might see my approval." He smiled. "I shall call upon you again soon, perhaps sooner than you think." Momentarily, his eyes flicked in the direction that Thantra had escaped from, but he did not press the matter. Why, this very moment, Seviin was filling Niallus in on all that had happened as they and Lunara walked, arm in arm, back to the others, Miray purring and weaving through their legs. All was - for the time being - well, and perhaps might yet be in the end.

Ransom Demand: Fin.




 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
NOTICE:


On account of recent events, all ships entering and leaving port are subject to random search and inspection until further notice.

No exceptions.

We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.





Ransom Demand: Epilogue Zero





The Buona Impresa: one of the Sant'Agata Albignese Trading Company's three most famous ships. Symbolic of one third of the company motto, it was the polar opposite of the fearsome Torragonese Man of War, the Forte Impresa—it was flagship of a fleet of mobile hospital ships dedicated to reducing the spread and casualties of plague within the Ensollian Sea—a symbol of the Solari family's goodwill and desire to improve the lives of all the peoples of Constantia. It was the very ship that delivered Xiuyang to Ersand'Enise. She cast her first spell, a small kinetic wind burst upon its beautiful deck. It was in the lower decks that she shadowed the most renowned binders the Solari family could get their hands on—and in the belly of the ship, she watched sailors compete in mixed martial arts, picked up a few moves, and both won and lost coin betting on the outcomes of the fights. It was a hub for some of the most impactful memories of Xiuyang's childhood.

Now, she watched it burn.

It was not an act of terrorism by the Perrench, or sabotage by an agent of the Arslan-Mercador Trade Company or some other rival. No, it was a simple, tragic accident: improperly stored medical supplies. It was yet another incident in a string of events that served as one more example of the increasing incompetence of the Company, known to hire former prisoners, gangsters, and homeless urchins seeking a new lease on life. At least, that was to be the official story, anyway.

Xiuyang sat upon the nondescript Mudville roof, watching from a distance as her childhood went up in smoke, talented mages of Ersand'Enise struggling to get close and contain the blaze due to the toxic fumes. Exactly as she had planned, the blaze was sudden, violent, and precise. Such a famous ship would be given a wide berth of space, and no other ships would see any damage. Exactly as she had planned, it had acquired the attention of at least one nearby Zeno, whom she couldn't identify from this distance, but their incredible power could always be observed, even felt. Exactly as she had planned, no ships were permitted to leave until the blaze was stopped and investigated. After the revolution, the possibility that such a spectacle as this was an act of terrorism demanded a thorough investigation by some major authorities.

Xiuyang spat. Everything had gone according to plan, except for one aspect: the Colas had not been attempting to escape when the blaze went off. Rather than there being a possibility of apprehending them peacefully as she intended, they had all been killed—with at least one exception, who would now be a loose end that she had to worry about. Just karma, she supposed, not that she wasn't already used to watching her back for things she didn't do. "What a wasted effort. If I wasn't gonna accomplish anything else, I could have done this a week ago."

"You Solaris do so love to kill two birds with one stone," remarked a nearby voice. One which was expected. It was accompanied by the ringing of coins as the man dropped a sizeable sack of them next to Xiuyang, who didn't even turn to regard him. "Your share. Though, the boss extracted a small late fee. Kind of tactless, if you ask me, considering who he's working with. ...Then again, considering who he's working with..." His voice trailed off as he left Xiuyang, ostensibly to cope with the betrayal of her own family.



She continued to sit there on the roof, eyes locked on to the flames, contemplating recent events. Mentally, she tossed her worries and regrets atop the distant blaze. Everything she had confessed in tears to Seviin after the fact. All of her concerns regarding her relationship to her own family. All of her doubts about the world and her role in it. Two years of struggles, to find friends and a place of belonging at Ersand'Enise, to manage her reputation, even as the Perrench now slandered her name, and to ensure a future of lucrative employment and personal wealth that might soothe her fears about her future, and whether or not Ciro might commit to being a part of it. Two years of emotional baggage, all up in smoke in the aftermath of the execution of what was supposed to be her grand plan—but ended up being someone else's grand plan which was laid out for her instead. "...I'm tactless, is that it?" Xiuyang smirked as she pondered to herself. "Or is it that I'm soon to be no longer a Solari?" She cackled dryly at the idea. Salome Volta. It does roll off the tongue quite nicely, she thought privately.

"He's a fool, as are they all," commented another nearby voice as a sonic bubble dropped.

"Father," Xiuyang greeted stiffly, seeing through the facemimicry immediately.

"Did they take the bait?" he replied. Xiuyang lifted up the sack of coins in lieu of a reply. "Well done, Salome. You played your part well." Gingerly, he lowered himself next to his daughter, and stroked her hair. "I should apologize. The news you received in ReTan must have shocked you."

Xiuyang allowed the man to pet her head. It still felt unnatural to receive any manner of praise or apology from him. She never could tell if he was being sincere, or merely fulfilling his obligations as a parent. There were many things she wanted to say—many emotions she wanted to let out, and had done so privately to Ciro—but for now, she snuffed them out. "You're terrifying, you know that? Even the Twin Emperors seemed to think I was being disowned."

"I needed to verify the integrity of my channels," came the response Xiuyang expected. "—and weed out the spies among our shareholders. Giving a close member of the family cause to betray me seemed the best way to lower their guard," he explained.

Just 'a close member of the family?' I'm your fucking daughter! Your youngest flesh and blood! Xiuyang silently fumed. "...It is our ruthlessness that makes us strong, father. It's why we Solaris are on top." She forced the words from her mouth. "Right you are. I'm glad you're beginning to understand." He put an arm around her shoulder tenderly. Xiuyang leaned her head against his arm, trying her best not to show any discomfort. There they would remain, for "just long enough," whatever that might have been. Only, it continued to drag on a moment longer. "How are things between you and Ciro?" he suddenly inquired.

Ah, of course. Now, it was time to talk about marriage. It was nearly the year of Ipte, after all. Truthfully, there was nothing Xiuyang wanted to do less than discuss ways to "convince Ciro" to put a ring on her. "I actually wanted to speak with him as soon as possible. Our stock price is about to crash, and I'd like him to take the place of one of those men we just encouraged to leave." Cosimo nodded. "I think bringing him into the fold is a fine idea. Go. You must be eager to tell him of the success of your mission." His hand slid down her arm, letting her go and bringing her some much-needed relief.

Xiuyang wasted no time in leaping from the roof and slipping into the nearby alleys. In truth, she had brought her magic mirror with her, and hoped to speak with Ciro while she watched it all burn—but now, she was robbed of that opportunity. She had kept the mirror a secret from her family, and would continue to do so. In lieu of a view from the rooftops, a convenient dressing room would have to suffice. Or perhaps, he might conclude a business meeting soon, and meet her halfway? She chose to uplift her dour mood by considering the various places they might arrange a rendezvous. Cradling her bag, her eyes sparkled with increasingly rare joy. While she had been counting her misfortunes, the gods had been busy lining up blessings for her. From Ipte, a true love in Ciro. From Shune, the wisdom to know herself. From Oraff, a treasure of a friend in Seviin. From Eshiran, courage to confront her darker nature. From Dami, the freedom to start on a new path.
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Epilogue: Part One

It had grown late. Before the nine students of Ersand'Enise knew it, the sun was sitting low in the sky, ready to impale itself on the towers of the White Walled city that cast such a long - and lengthening - shadow over this place. Perhaps they were more unified than when they'd started in this endeavour, bright and early the morning before. Perhaps they were less so. Truly, it was something only they could know.

Yet, the secrecy of things cut both ways, for the students could not have known the hearts of the Resistance. Perhaps they had drifted from their cause. Some had become little more than gangsters. Some, perhaps, believed fervently - enough to take extreme measures, for who can truly know the hearts of men and what they hold deep within, away from the sight of others, where not even magic can know all?

Days' travel distant lay the Realm of Parmoy, and it was now under the attack of the Grey Fleet: a relentless, ruthless force that churned up all those who resisted its march. Men, magic, and machines wound into that open sore, trying to staunch the bleeding, but also food, medicine, and the necessities of life. This was because of the Resistance. The cell in Ersand'Enise was but one of many, and its efforts kept those people alive.

Days passed, and then weeks, and Jaxan lent them his increasing aid. He found his sense of purpose and they did not, in fact, use his ability to generate aberrations as a form of revenue. Then, one day, he wasn't there. Instead, in his place, was a letter for the eyes of only Aras'thazan'in'tiimithal. It warned him of a vision. It warned him to run.

Finally, the layers of Jaxan's and his parents' relationship remained obscured in all but the broadest sense. The nine from Ersand'Enise could not have known the reasons behind Talthan and Emenii's lukewarm support for the Resistance. They could not have known the depth of the yasoi's disaffection with the nation of their birth and their belief in the victory, justice, and deliverance offered by its invaders. They could not have known, but Jaxan, at least, had suspected.



Epilogue: Part Two

The sun sat low in the sky, vast and reddening, like an overripe fruit. The people of Belleville bustled about the last of their daily errands, final deals being struck, smoke starting to issue from chimneys as dinner was prepared, shops shuttering for the evening, and crickets chirping in the long grass that eked out a living among the byways and alleys.

It was an innocuous part of this scene: a young man and a young woman - they could have been lovers, or perhaps siblings, or merely friends - walked down the Searoad, its swirling crowds paying them no manner of extra heed. They walked, and they talked. The young man turned and smiled towards the girl, her pretty red hair rippling in the evening breeze that graced the outside of the white walled city.

“Why did you spare the boy?” he questioned her, with an unfeigned curiosity. His tone was soft, and the man’s eyes met hers searching for an answer before she’d had the chance to respond.

The woman shrugged. It was an evasive gesture, though her answer was not. “He was… just so innocent, so nice.” She sauntered instead of walking, the sunshine warm and pink on her skin. “He’ll never grasp it and -” She sighed, twisting to regard him. “I didn’t wanna kill that goodness, I guess.” The walls of the city loomed before her: an impregnable white fortress she would never be allowed inside - never, in spite of the kind words of one young man who was. “We’re not the villains of this story.” She willed some certainty into it.

“That’s a fine reason, Cherii,” he uttered, wistfully looking up at the walls that were soon within reach, the end of the road. “The world is sometimes cruel and unfair, but that doesn’t mean we have to be.”

“But ruthless,” she replied. “We have to be ruthless.” Did her eyes flick his way? If they did, it was so brief as to be effectively imperceptible.

His gaze however, was steadfast upon the city - their city, if the ruthlessness they had to employ would deliver justice to them. “A loss of one thing, but in service of a greater gain.” He closed his eyes and exhaled, before looking toward her once more, his eyes shuttered windows to the soul that lay beneath. “Whatever we do, we do in service of a better world.”

She appeared to simply accept the statement and there was nothing more to it. “So, what happens next?” It was a simple question. The apple seller shook his head and sighed sadly “It’s better if you don’t know. Let us both spare some good in the world today.”

So it was that Cherii’cola’caliman passed from that meeting with her sense of goodness intact.



Epilogue: Part Three

“Before she’s here, we need to get our house in order.” Mycan locked the door and stood there at the top of the steps in silhouette. Uneasy glances were exchanged. Aras was poker faced, peeling an apple with his knife. He nodded, however.

“This again?” Naxen retorted. “Are we really about to open this can of worms and start pointing fingers at each other?”

“We six were the only ones who knew,” said Aras, breaking his silence, “so tell me, Naxen, how did they find it?” Mycan tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in a gesture universal to both yasoi and humans.

“It had to have been those greasy fucking Parmoyish!” declared Ashon.

“We never should’ve trusted them,” Miret agreed quickly.

“It’s that little psycho Eneden.” This, then, was Chasto, eager to shift suspicion. “I bet he’s struck a deal with the Hax’olop.”

“Or just taken it for himself,” Naxen snorted. “He would.” he shrugged.

On the eve of what might’ve been the most important thing to have ever happened to them, the Resistance Against the Tarlonese Invasion had just suffered a decimating setback. Eyes slid to the eldest of them, seated at the head of the table, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. He didn’t speak.

“They didn’t know which ship it was on,” countered Mycan. “They only knew it’d be arriving that day and that the crates would be marked.”

The old man scowled, taking out a dagger and spinning it idly but not absently on the tabletop. “One of you has betrayed us.”

What followed was an eruption of denials, protests of innocence crawling over each other like crabs in a bucket, desperate theories, excuses, pleas. Then, it happened: “Well, if it was anyone, it was Chasto! He’s Parmoyish!”

Nervous glances were exchanged. A handful of eyes went to Naxen. A new and dangerous door had been opened. “Convenient!” shouted the accused. “He who has been deflecting the most.”

“Isn’t your uncle baron of Yaruuma?”

“Aren’t you married to a Tarlonese!?”

“You never should’ve brought this up, Naxen. It makes you look suspicious.” The only woman among the group, Miret, spoke with cornered resentment.

Still, the knife spun on the tabletop. The old man watched it. He watched, and he listened.

“Nobody is a traitor,” insisted Mycan. “I truly believe they are not, but one of you spoke carelessly. One of you let something slip.”

The spinning blade on the table came to an abrupt stop, as the wizened man grasped it firmly. “Bullshit.” he spoke gruffly, and the arm holding the knife began to raise and point, before there was a stop. His mouth jerked open and three dark red specks - almost black - appeared on the tabletop. His eyes levered down to regard them with bemusement.

THUD



Epilogue: Part Four

Aras’ head dropped against the table and the knife clattered across the floor before it could be levied against the traitor. Foam and bile spilled from his lips as his ancient body slumped in his seat, lifeless.

Miret - the woman - let out a scream and could instantly feel their eyes upon her. Those darted around the room, now, a hornet’s nest disturbed - accusing, shouting silently, wide with shock and terror. “That doesn’t just happen randomly!” shouted Mycan. “One of you did -”

His eyes rolled back and filled with blood and he collapsed in a heap. “It was Naxen!” Ashon leveled a finger. “It was fucking Naxen! He’s been deflecting the whole time!”

“Yash spax!” shouted Naxen. “It’s someone else, trying to set us against each other!”

“Oh!” exclaimed Miret. now it couldn’t possibly any of us, now that it clearly fucking is! Very -”

“Ensa’Calop” whispered Chasto into the ear of Naxen from behind, before he began to throttle the man's throat with a full draw and a firm squeeze, making full use of his leadvein abilities.

Miret scrambled backwards, eyes wide. “It’s him. It has to be him!”

“What the fuck, Chasto? We don’t know if -” Ashon’s words were cut off by a scream as Chasto vomited up blood and fell backwards. It was all over his clothes, and Naxen’s, and the floor. Miret began running for the door. “It - it wasn’t,” Naxen tried. “I know how it looks but it wasn’t.”

“Help me, you stupid taca!” Ashon shouted at her, and she stopped at the base of the steps, coming about. Naxen threw up his hands defensively, backing away, but now they had him surrounded. “You traitorous piece of tiims’pax!”

The pair closed in on the traitor and there was naught he could do. His clothes were covered with blood, and his throat was so damaged that he could barely speak more desperate pleas to them. Ashon kicked his former - false - comrade to the ground and Miret finished the job, a clean stomp to the head, ending the man’s life.

They regarded each other for a moment, chests heaving, hands trembling. They hadn’t even taken in the room yet, perhaps because they knew and could not bear to look. Miret broke first, her lip trembling, tears spilling down her cheeks. She stumbled toward him for an embrace, but Ashon seized up, taking a step back and shaking his head, dazed.

Immediately apologetic, for she needed him, in truth, he turned back to regard her. For a moment, he locked eyes with her and they were bloodshot, he noticed, bloodshot from the -

He turned and ran, taking the stairs two at a time as she expired behind him with a choked cry. The wood thumped beneath his feet and mortal terror propelled him. The lock! The stupid lock wouldn’t - there it was! He rattled it open and it swung and -

For a moment, Ashon thought he felt a tingle behind his eyes.

An apple - partially peeled - rolled off of the table when something thumped against it. It landed on the floor and rolled some more, soaking up the blood of the Resistance and going still.



Ransom Demand: Fin.
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Hidden 6 mos ago Post by Echotech71
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Niallus Saberhagen



Ransom Demand.











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Niallus Saberhagen



A Knight with A Queen.





Standing at the top of the stairs waiting, he got a good view of the ballroom. The school really spared no expense. A buffet that was large enough to give Johann indigestion. People of all races, joined together, embracing in common conversations with one another. The music was soothing and distinguished. Niallus was amazed by the amount of people who were attending to the ball. Then again it was for the Queen of Mycromi.

Dressed in a white shirt matched with black waistcoat with silver buttons and trim. An overcoat that matched his silver trim, it was possibly the only thing that he had fancy in his whole attire, it wasn't Eskandr design but he liked it. He brushed on one of his shoulders. Hopefully this is fitting. While adjusting one of his cufflinks.

Upon hearing the fanfare announcing the queen, Niallus stood to attention, he had a job to do, look after the Queen during this time of the ball. He brushed his hand through his brown hair keeping in neat and tidy. Upon gazing at the Queen she had an aura of her, that screamed elegance. He didn't even have to look around to know that all eyes were on her. "Your Majesty." He said bowing in respect to her, when he looked back up to the Queen. A familiar face he saw that caught his attention. It was Marljin, with Jomurr. That son of a- He thought as his attention drifted.

Queen Hylaenii took his hand, covering her mouth with a fan held in her other. "Oh, but Baron Saberhagen," she giggled from behind it, "You look positively like you've seen a ghost!" She leaned in conspiratorially and he caught a hint of a cheeky grin from behind the fan. "Care to let me in on the secret?"

Scratching the tip of his nose in a little embarrassment. Catching a small grin behind her fan, a smile came across his face.

"My apologies my lady." He simply said to her. "I just saw someone that i didn't expect, That's all." He was hoping that would be enough to sway her, but given how his friends have mentioned about her, it might not be.

The queen waved off Niallus with a pouty face. "Oh, you're no fun," she teased. "Nevermind. I'll pry it from you later. For now, hup hup!" She flashed him a fetching smile. "Take my arm, good sir, and escort me down the stairs if you would be so kind?" She held her arm out to link it with his. They were both of a height, at least. "Don't let the queen fall, hmm?"

Niallus chuckled a little by he pouty face. but upon hearing that she'll pry it out of him had him wondering when she will try. But his attention was snapped as she she held her arm out to link with him. "Of course, my lady, if you wish to pry, perhaps it would be best to at least make our way down the stairs first." he said with a smile. He held his arm out to link his arm to her as they walked down the stairs. Her grip was tight around his arm, but there was more pressure than what was needed for a simply walk down the stairs. Catching on the message that she was relaying to him with her body language, seems that she wanted to keep this hidden. "It is my duty to protect you this evening, you have nothing to fear."

No sooner were they at the bottom than Hylaenii was pulling Niallus off in a direction before anyone had a chance to claim her attention. "Do keep up, loyal protector," she teased. She leaned in. "There are some people present who I very much would like to speak to," she admitted, "and others I would very much like to avoid." She patted him on the arm. "You can help me with that, hmm?" She grinned, eyes darting about surreptitiously.

Niallus gave her playful smile with a nod. "Of course my lady." He leaned into her as he looked at her gaze. "Now, where would you like to go first?" He said in a kind, friendly manner. "For the people that wish to avoid just mention them to me, and we will steer clear." with her latched to his arm. He walked with her, matching her pace.

Alas, before long, the queen was cornered and caught. It was the duke of Arsica - a notably long-winded fellow with wandering eyes that tickled up and down her svelte figure and a tongue that wagged on endlessly in either self-aggrandizing tale or the most trivial of matters. Hylaenii nodded along politely enough through her suffering, covering some of her reactions by drinking copiously or feigning some small issue and twisting away momentarily.

In the background, others danced and twirled. Music played. One could variously see Baron Rikard, Countess Taleja, Duchess Ayla, Lady Zarina, and Jarl Sven and Esmii in the midst of a rather... intimate dance. It seemed as if most all of the school had turned out. About half of the Arch-Zenos were present as well, including Marbrand, Fabio, Tarthas, Masson, Afraval, and Giacomo the Crow: the only one who'd been alive for the last state visit by Mycormii. The Zenith was not currently present, officially for the reason of not making matters seem overly formal or weighty, but all knew how greatly he was Upta's opposite: Joshe Intaba was both a scholar and a warrior and he abhorred high society events such as this, avoiding them wherever possible.

For a moment, after throwing back a full glass of champagne, Hylaenii leaned over and shot Niallus a look that seemed to say nothing so much as "save me!"

Upon catching a glimpse of his friends Sven and Esmii, he was glad that they were enjoying themselves. When he sees them like this, they felt like they were the perfect match for one another. He was glad that his friend had someone he loved with all his heart. How long will they last before they lead the other one off to a quiet secluded area.

Niallus found this man in front of himself and the Queen to be a real pest, when he came into both of them, Niallus was so startled by him, he resisted the urge to punch him on reflex. But listening to this oaf waffle on and on was even trying his patience with the Duke's wandering eyes on Hylaenii. It was a bit unsettling but how to get rid of him. After Hylaenii finished downing her glass, he had an idea to at least get rid of this depraved man. He took Hylaenii's glass from her, holding it out to the Duke.

"It appears that her glass is empty and she requires another refill, please do this favour for the queen and refill it." his tone was so professional and formal, it even completely fooled himself with how he spoke. For now he waited for the Duke to take the task while Niallus and Hylaenii could hide into the crowd.

Duke Domenico's eyes widened at the thinly-veiled insult. "I... we have servants for -" He stumbled, face turning red. He was not a young man and was rather overweight. Normally, he'd never have challenged someone such as Niallus to a duel, but he'd boasted at such length of his exploits that to not do so here would cause him an indelible loss of face.

Hylaenii merely glanced between the two men expectantly. "It appears offence has been both given and taken," she declared.

"Indeed!" roared the duke. "I demand satisfaction!"

Lady Hilarii's eyes widened and she reached down in alarm to unlock her wheelchair's brakes. Though she was far too short to be noticed amid the crowd and struggled to push her way through, Lady Sanette faced no such difficulty. Still unaware of the little golden frog perched contentedly in her hair, she also began to hurry over, her progress easily marked by the summit of her great wig. For a moment, the queen seemed to waver, and she clutched at Niallus' arm before diplomatically separating herself.

"Please, my lord. He is but young," Sanette entreated, arriving breathlessly. "Young and Eskandish."

Hilarii arrived moments later and picked up from her friend. "His blood yet runs hot. Surely, he merely forgot himself for a moment. Will he not apologize for this slight?"

"No blood need be shed over such a small matter," remarked Lady Sanette, the frog peering out of her hair approvingly.

Eyes turned to Niallus, including those of the queen, perfectly pokerfaced, awaiting his response.

Niallus placed his free hand up to the Duke. "Kind sir, I meant no offence of course." a kind smile brushed across his face as he politly continued. "I only asked you this, as a fine duke like yourself, you must have a long list of fine taste in champagne and other exquisite beverages."

The duke's face, if anything, became even uglier, screwing up in disgust. "Do you mock me, boy!?" he demanded.

This Dumpling of a Duke was really starting to get on his nerves. "Well there is plenty to mock." He said flatly.

The duke struggled for a moment to peel off one of his white gloves. Face puckered, he took this in his hand and slapped Niallus across the face with it, after which, he dropped it at the youth's feet.

"The gauntlet has been thrown!" the crier announced, seeming to come up almost out of nowhere. He'd been paid enough to do extra duty like this, perhaps.

The queen's eyes widened, and they darted between the two men. Niallus bent down slowly to pick it up. "No need to strain yourself bending over, your grace," the Eskandishman replied. "I'll get that for you." He bent double, lifted it from the floor with a visible effort to hide his distaste, and handed it to his second who was... the queen, in this case. Perhaps he simply didn't understand the etiquette of the matter. Even she looked alarmed, quickly handing it to Roslyn.

"Make way!" cried the crier, as he led a burgeoning crowd through the opulent double doors and out into the night. "Duke Domenico IV of Arsica demands the satisfaction of Baron Niallus Saberhagen of Eskand Ath for insults rendered while in the company of the queen. Gentlemen!" He turned to take them both in as they joined him in the dimly lit plaza. The warm dancing light of the indoors spilled eagerly out into the darkness. "Shall this be a fight to first blood or to the death?"

Spotting the commotion, Roslyn inwardly groaned and moved closer. She pinched her nose when she heard the challenge. It turned out her senses about trouble were accurate. Taking the glove from the Queen, the girl followed the rest. "I swear, it seems Niallus likes to poke the bear. Especially whenever a pretty lady is involved." She muttered.

Niallus took his overcoat off, handing it to one of the Queen's handlers. Then undone the buttons to his waistcoat. "First blood should be fine. Death seems like it would kill the mood." He focused on the Duke, even though he was more horizontal, he could sense a decent amount of RAS. He wasn't going to let his guard down "When you are ready? " He simply said.

The queen floated out on her large ballgown, her entourage surrounding her with pursed lips and furrowed brows. She knitted her fingers together and clenched them. A few others filed in close to her: Taleja, Roslyn, Yuliya, and Xiuyang. Then, it was just Niallus and this obnoxious man. Perhaps the hot-blooded Eskandishman had provoked the fight on purpose. Perhaps he had not. He was, to many of those gathered, an enigma.

The duke regarded him with both anger and - beneath a show of bravado - fear. Perhaps this was a bridge too far, but he could not have merely accepted the insult. He opened his mouth to speak when Niallus pre-empted him. "Scared to match magic with your social better, then, boy." He nodded. "Very well." He began to take off his jacket, handing it to one of his sons, who was roughly of an age with his opponent.

The queen, meanwhile, twisted to regard Roslyn with an enigmatic look of her own. "Mm, yes, he certainly does." She cracked a coy smile and fixed her hair, turning back to the fight, chin raised, to watch.

A circle formed around the duellists and Zenos Paireni and Sectoxomactex took up their places at either end to officiate.

"This duel will be fought to first blood!" the crier announced. "Outside interference is strictly forbidden and will result in immediate intervention and forfeiture. The combatants are Duke Domenico of Arsica and Baron Niallus of Saberhagen. They will draw once the cloth hits the ground." He raised his hand, a golden cloth fluttering in the light breeze and all eyes seized upon it.

It dropped.

The duke drew immediately and quickly and then there were three of him, already spreading out to surround the youth. "Which one is the real me, boy?" all three taunted. "You're in over your head!"

Niallus drew in manas but kept them on standby. As he saw his opponent create illusions of himself "What's wrong, don't want to fight properly and resort to hiding." He figured he'd have to draw him out, let him slip up and then strike at first chance. Using his ability in pyromancy he cast a simple Arcane spell to increase the temperature of the area around him.

Duke Domenico had expected some sort of slashing attack that split his opponent's power between three targets, and he was prepared for it, too! This, however, was another matter entirely. A generalized heat spell? Who opened with that!? He maintained his concentration, keeping the illusions up, but he began sweating immediately and profusely and he blinked in discomfort, launching triple kinetic slashes aimed right for the boy's neck.

Looking straight at his attacker, he knew exactly where he was, training on how to combat illusions, by making this butter ball sweat. Using Kinetic he avoided his attacks, once in the clear he dashed towards him wanting to punch him in the face with minor Kinetic embedded into it.

The attack was so sudden and ferocious that it caught Niallus across the shoulder, burning a blackened swathe in his clothing and raising blisters on his skin, but it didn't draw blood. All it would take was for one of those to pop, however, and the duke would eke out a win on a technicality. He may have been old and fat, but he was determined, and a canny fighter.

The attack was so sudden and ferocious that it caught Niallus across the shoulder, burning a blackened swathe in his clothing and raising blisters on his skin, but it didn't draw blood. All it would take was for one of those to pop, however, and the duke would eke out a win on a technicality. He may have been old and fat, but he was determined, and a canny fighter.

Niallus was getting tired of this, seems that the Duke is getting more force in his attacks, Niallus needs to end this dual before this loon gets someone else killed he drew once more for another kinetic hit, this time more or a kinetic shock wave.

The wave took the duke in the midsection and simply folded him. He flew backwards into the crowd, his momentum stopped only through the intervention of Zeno Secto. The Xolectan scowled and shook his head tightly. Had he shot a proud smile Niallus' way?

Domenico was let down limp on the ground, multiple ribs broken and organs ruptured, and Zeno Paireni rushed forward to heal him. The brutality of the attack had left no uncertainty in the matter: Niallus was vastly the stronger of the two, but it also hadn't been aimed to cut or slice. Only the gushing of the man's nose had given Niallus the win, technically speaking, not that there was anything left to fight for. The duke's son stepped in to see to his father and, for a moment, shot a venomous look Niallus' way. An older woman who might've been his mother scowled and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder to pull him back, shaking her head tightly as her husband was healed.

Meanwhile, thanks to Yvain's and Xiuyang's efforts, the monarch had kept her feet and the crowd had been distracted from her weakness, though she still seemed wobbly. She nodded in thanks to the both of them, holding onto Yvain's arm for a moment longer, and he noticed what must've been almost her entire weight on it. The crowd swirled, carrying Rikard, Roslyn, and Taleja away, and she seemed well enough to recover at that point. "Goodness!" she exclaimed, "Perhaps a bit too much excitement for a frail little flower like me for one day." She fanned herself, nodding again to dismiss their efforts and, just like that, she seemed to be standing steadily again, her entourage, with the exception of the tethered Hilarii, closing around her.

Hylaenii waved them off, particularly Siimond's warning look. "I am quite well," she assured them, "Truly." She turned her gaze toward the triumphant Niallus and flashed a smile, looking him up and down. "It seems the victory is yours, good sir. That is certainly one way to accomplish the task."

Most of the crowd was cheering. Some were discussing. Money was changing hands. "I shall retreat for a time indoors to have a word with the lovely Lord Berbignon who has just rescued my dignity, but I beg of you, attend me in ten minutes time when we are finished?"

Niallus smiled at Hylaenii "Thank you my lady." He bowed to her. "I didn'twant to push it too far, but since he was trying to kill me, he left me with little choice." His face winced from the pain of his shoulder, as he moved it slightly, while also looking for his overcoat.

Roslyn stood waiting for Niallus, holding his overcoat, once he was dismissed. She pulled him off to the side then smacked the glove on his chest to hold. Drawing in the light, she began to bind his small wounds until they vanished from sight. "You owe me a beer. "

Niallus laughed when Roslyn hit with a glove to hold. "Thanks Roslyn." He said while waiting to be healed. ”I'll try to get you a few bottles from this ball after it is over." It didn't take long before his wound was fully healed. Once healed he put his coat back on, giving it a tug, "Best get back to my job." He said walking back in the ballroom.

It was not ten minutes but, rather, fifteen, when the queen emerged from that room, lips pressed together in a most satisfied smile. Monsieur de Berbignon departed about a minute later with one of her ladies in waiting and it was not long until they were a feature on the dance floor.

Most notable, however, was Queen Hylaenii herself. Emerging like a vision, swirling with kinetic magic, she took Niallus' hand, pulled him in close, and twirled with him on the floor. She leaned in until her lips brushed his ear. "You were incredible," she whispered, "It was nothing." he whispered back to her. The music ebbed and flowed before they two knew it, the people around them had their eyes on them as they danced each step that Niallus took, Hylaenii would follow, her form looked as if she was gliding across the ground as her movements were graceful. The world faded away. If she was one of the first to leave the dance floor, she was also one of the happiest, and she did not leave alone.





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Hidden 6 mos ago Post by BlackRoseSiren
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BlackRoseSiren

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Lunara Agha

Ransom Demand: Finale.




Dory and Lunara stood on a small street just off of the Searoad, at loggerheads. The latter had ruined a plan of the former's with her intervention, and Dory silently resented her for it. Lunara, meanwhile, found herself suspicious of the apparent victims of a yasoi attack. They glanced at each other, the first only responding once his partner was healed.

If Dory had been a pleasant surprise, the way this one questioned him reeked of Ersand'Enise. "Just scaring some Resistance spook outta here." He shook his head. "Ever since the knife-ears started pouring in, they've brought their crime, addiction, and filth to our neighbourhoods," confirmed the second.

"Not even safe for my sister and her kids to go out without an escort anymore." The first man nodded. "We're keeping the place safe, and your friend helped us." He shot Dory a tight, appreciative smile. This, now, was where they stood.

"It's good to see you safe, Lunara. It seems my efforts were not in vain." Dorothea expressed, wearing a warm smile. "Those men were filth the Colas sent to go after us. I've been trying my best to keep them all away from everyone else. . . And these men helped me out with them." Her words were followed up with a rather saddened look on her face. "I do regret that they suffered so much. . . I did not expect the people of the Colas would attack innocent bystanders. . ."

Regret filled her expression as she held her arm. "I should study binding magic in cases like this, haha." She winked the woman's way. "Though I'm better at making the pain go away than to actually heal it, so seeing people who are good with binding is always such a blessing. Thank you for helping these poor people."

It was right around then that, in a final sweep of the area, Dorothea noted the distinctive presence of Johann's massive energy signature, a pair of timewalkers, and - most distinctly - a one-legged woman. They were at the very edge of her sensing range, in Miller's Hook, at the end of a block of row houses. That was her 'allies' and if there was a one-legged woman... perhaps that lead had been the truth!

The two men, meanwhile, understood their roles and corroborated her statements utterly. "Resistance or Cola," amended one. "Impossible to tell them apart unless you know them!"

"But we was just messin' around when we saw them roughing up a yasoi girl with white hair," said one.

"Tried to blame it on us!"

"Yeah, we're wary of all these recent immigrants, but we've got a heart," added the second. "Then, when she arrived, they attacked your friend here on sight."

Both shook their heads. "It's a dangerous world..."

Of course, while Lunara may have been hard-pressed to corroborate the truthfulness of their stories, there was nothing stopping her from sensing exactly what Dory had...

Lunara was relieved that her friend Dory was ok, she heard that she could take care of herself, it was clear those rumours were true. Lunara responded in kind with a smile of her own. Listening to what the two men were explaining to her.

"Indeed the world can be a dangerous place. You two should be ok now, i suggest that you head home now and rest..." Her voice trailed off once she noticed Miray look off into a direction, her little cat ears twitching.

"Miray?" she said, then immediately she felt the same thing that the cat was sensing. "Dory should we go investigate who those magics belong too, it could be some of the others." she asks.

Dory placed her hands on her hip and shook her head. "It is truly dangerous... And it seems like it's getting worse." Then the girl perked up when they *suddenly* sensed something. "I'll go investigate that, you help the others out." She smiled warmly. "They need you, Lunara. I can sense quite the presence.... I will try to see it that everyone else won't be attacked from their sides by these criminals."

her eyes went towards the two men. "But first I have to make sure they won't get back at these fine fellows..." She grimaced, most likely thinking about what these criminals could do against humans with no magic.

It was not so very long before they parted ways: Lunara rushing off towards her peers and Dory staying back to protect the yasoi hoodlums' potential targets. Of course, if the others had - indeed - found Jaxan as she suspected, other measures might be in order, lest some further nefarious group like the Tarlonese - or was it the Resistance who were worse - get their hands on him…

After saying goodbye and wishing Dory luck, Lunara looked at her cat. Miray was good at Tracking people with their magic energy. "Ok, Miray lead me to the others."

Miray tilted her head, her ears twitched as she sensed outward for the energy. Once she had locked in on Miray started running off, often stopping for her loving master to keep up.

The Goma Cat didn't have much trouble avoiding people with her kitty enhanced reflexes and speed. Lunara didn't have the same talents as her cat. But she had the use of magic often if crowds where in the way she'd gracefully jump over with the help of Kinetic magic.

There was plenty for Lunara to dodge and just as much if not more for her goma cat to sense. They were about halfway there and not so very far from one of the local bars - a place with a large cyan sign of a lamplighter crying comically - when the animal paused and arched her back slightly. A low, rumbling growl left her throat.

From a side entrance emerged five burly yasoi, led by an impressively tall older gentleman. They were not running - yet - but seemed definitively headed in a particular direction: the same one that she was going.

Lunara closely followed Miray, as her cat was able to sense the energy of one of Lunara's fellow students. She suddenly noticed Miray abruptly stop, Lunara while she slowed to a stop, glanced in the direction that Miray was quietly growling towards, she noticed that five burly Yasoi men who were being lead by a tall older man had appeared from a side entrance, at first she didn't think much about it, as they didn't pay her any attention.

However Lunara soon noticed that the group was heading the same direction she was. As a precaution Lunara decided that she would quietly follow the group, from a distance to see what there next action would be. On seeing the group move, Lunara began to follow them, however as she was solely focused on the group, she hadn't noticed that there was a small crate in her way, and because of this her foot collided with the crate, which caused her to fall to the ground with a loud clatter. "OUCH!"

A couple of them turned. They looked directly at Lunara and she was spotted. They stopped and, without a doubt, she was cooked. She'd either have to whip up an explanation on the spot, or it was fight or flight time.

Then, the strangest thing happened. After a few words exchanged in some yasoi tongue she didn't know, they simply began moving again, paying her no heed. Only, now, they weren't walking quickly, they were *running*.

Lunara didn't move at first, she was too busy cursing in her head at how disastrous this had come. So much for trying to be sneaky. She slowly rose to her feet dusting her knees off with her hands. She had a feeling that she was about to have her hands full, but, when she looked up to them. The yasoi were running in the opposite direction.

Maybe this was a strange blessing in disguise. Miray came to her feet, checking if Lunara was hurt. "I'm ok, the only thing that hurt was my pride." giving a little giggle. She refocused back to the task at hand. She knelt down to her goma cat "Let's get back to following that energy, but we'll keep an eye out for them." then began following her once more.

Before long, the six figures had stopped running, and they took a surprisingly meandering route. Lunara had just reached the Godsroad, tailing them only loosely and at a distance, and she estimated that they were no more than a hundred fifty yards from the source of the potential conflict.

That, however, was when she spotted it: Dory, along with Jaxan's parents and what appeared to be a security escort. They were heading... for exactly the same place, and the first six she'd followed didn't seem to have noticed them.

Lunara on noticing Dory was escorting Jaxan's parents, she gave a slight nod, and continued to follow the group of yasoi's she was already following. after the six yasoi men, from a distance she noticed the group stop and talk to another yasoi outside of the building where the energy is emanating from.

Lunara decided to use this distraction to slowly make her way towards them closely followed by Miray, she hoped to hear what they were saying but wasn't sure if she would understand it.

"My parents only care for their idea of me," Jaxan said, with a bitterness that, while bordering on the melodramatic, was also keenly felt, "not the real me - not what *I* want, not even what's best for the world." He set his jaw. "I'll play along, though."

Xiuyang moved on and Thantra nodded at her words. "Not gonna lie: that'd be nice. Tarlon doesn't exactly love me. Consoi want me dead." She shrugged. "I just wanna be a Tan-Zeno, you know?"

Ashon was offering her money, though, and making a plan that she had only *some* misgivings about, and time was not something they had. She regarded those around her. "I *do* want my name cleared," she declared, "And I want your word that, if they try to kill me, you'll step in."

Johann stepped forward. "I pledge the whole of my cash earnings and I will not let them harm you." He bowed chivalrously.

"Right, then." Thantra nodded. She glanced over at Jaxan. "Sorry if I was, uh... rough with you."

"Sorry if I thought you were evil."

The Tarlonese released a snort of mirth and waved him off, grasping her crutches tightly and stalking up to the door. "I'm kind of a tiims'archa here." She twisted about and twitched her stump for a moment, but then she set her jaw, took and deep breath, and focused. "I'll need about three seconds. Longer, and they go after me themselves. Shorter, and you'll catch me in no time."

Meanwhile, as a plan was hatched inside the row house, the two groups standing outside had noticed each other. "You!" shouted Emenii, Jaxan's mother, "Who are you and why are you here?"

The leader of the group of six ignored her and focused, instead, on her husband. "Doridax?" he asked tentatively. "Talthan'chal'doridax?"

"The same. Who's asking?"

"You've supported us in the past," the man answered nebulously, and husband and wife both shot each other looks. "Who's that with you?" His chin motioned at Dorothea, "and the other one who followed us." He jerked a thumb in Lunara's direction.

It was at about that very moment that the door burst open and a one-legged Tarlonese agent came barreling out, hurtling all four steps and landing in a crouch. She ran away with surprising speed - all that she could muster, shouting, "Nar spax, consoi!"

Inside the home, clustered about the door, waited the others. Johann held three fingers up and counted down.

Three.

Two.

One.

Seviin bolted through to sell the idea and Johann raised a hand once more.

Three.

Two.

One.

...

Lunara on seeing that she was pointed at just gave them a smile and waved until the one-legged yasoi came bursting out of the door, quickly followed by Seviin. She noticed that Seviin was going alone and shouted to her. "Seviin do you want some help? Are you sure it's ok for you to follow her alone?"
Elsewhere, Thantra raced through the narrow streets at a breakneck pace... at least by her standards. Seviin gained slowly on her and Lunara even more so. She blew past Niallus and, when he spotted the other two, it was clear that they were chasing a bad guy who was trying to make her escape through the Seagate. In the distance, he could sense at least three more yasoi starting to give chase, but they were well back.

The one-legged woman was almost within his reach at this very moment. She slowed momentarily at the foot of an apartment above a shop. A kinetically powered lunge would nab her! Otherwise, he'd fall behind as well.

Lunara, meanwhile, had gained ground with surprising ease. Seviin was surprisingly slow, hardly even gaining on a monoped! Then, the yasoi reached an arm out. "She's on our side. It's a trick," she panted, still running. Meanwhile, Thantra leapt onto a low-lying awning, clambered onto a windowsill, and took off across the roof of a house.

Seeing the Yasoi run slash hop past him, she was remarkably agile. But his attention shifted to the second person, It was Seviin, then Lunara and her Goma Cat. Something was off, if she wanted to catch the other Yasoi why didn't she shout Niallus to help, unless she doesn't, he'll have to ask as she comes past.

As Seviin started to get closer to him, he matched both hers and Lunaras pace. "Funny running into you two like this. Are we trying to catch this person?" He asked Seviin as he watched Thantra climb to the rooftops.

Seviin, breathless, turned to Niallus, slipping her arm under his, for they were the exact same height. "Niallus, moila." She reached for Lunara's arm as well. "Lunii suunei." She slowed them both down. "It's all a trick. She's good people, trying to do the right thing, and I think we have, today."

Thantra bounded from one rooftop to the next, but all of her pursuit seemed to have fallen off. She slowed. She slid down an eavestrough, and dropped to the ground. There, she dusted herself off, rose, and walked over to the Seagate, finally free.

Niallus raised a brow a bit confused by this, but then again, he has been gone for a while. "Ok, I trust you." going along with what his friend has mentioned to him. "You'll have to catch me up on whats happened." He asked her, as the group slowly came to a stop.

Upon hearing what Seviin was saying Lunara nodded with it, she placed a finger and her thumb to her mouth and whistled.

In the direction where Thantra ran off to, a small head bobbed itself up, hearing the whistle. It was Miray, it seemed that even though her master and company slow down, Miray did not. She climbed down from the roof that she got onto ready to chase Thantra, upon coming down she stopped in front of Lunara "That’s enough chasing." she said, giving Miray head scratches. Miray began to purr, after Lunara finished petting her cat, it seemed that Miray was in an affectionate mood, rubbing herself on Lunara, Seviin and Niallus' legs, purring.

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Hidden 6 mos ago 6 mos ago Post by Jumbus
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Jumbus

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An Important Lesson


Location: A Remote Village, Oiyac


“Ersand’Enise then. I’m loath to say it beats the academies we keep in Oiyac, I went there for my first few years.” He looked toward his younger sister, youthful and just about to enter the world of magical study properly. He held no envy for the tough decision in front of her. “Ersand’Enise is a place like no other in this world. It is great for your academic development but you must not make the mistake of thinking it is normal. Graduates see the world differently from there and forget the struggles we must keep as nobility.”

Malon’Juuras’Osmax poured himself a glass of wine while he enjoyed the gentle outdoor breeze. He sat laid back with one leg crossed over a knee as he took a sip. However, the full plate armour he had donned was less than comfortable in the heat, he refrained from pulling at his collar to maintain appearances. He and his sister sat at a nice, small table of two as they looked upon a devastated town. The screams and fear of the peasantry cried out as they were rounded into the town square by soldiers. Malon took another sip, the people he looked at now were lower than peasants.

Solet’Osmax sat across from Malon reading her book on the basics of magnetic magics from a famed Oiyan author. No, she wasn’t simply reading the book, Solet was retreating to it. She was a naturally meek girl and the horrors taking place around her were only encouragement to avoid the gaze of passing captives. The girl was only thirteen and had barely left their family’s estate, let alone seeing anything like this. It was only her brother’s sudden speech that caused her to put the book down.

She did her best to look ladylike despite the circumstances. The youngest of a noble line left much to prove, especially when other families in the same position had been put to the block in recent history. Her stomach turned on itself but she sat with the expected poise and dignity. She took the small glass of wine poured for her and took a sip. It felt like the first glass she had ever had and it wasn’t far off.

“You see, I came back to Oiyac because I started asking foolish questions about the world. Questions that you will be brought to ponder while in sterile academia, but are all too easily answered when you reach the real world.” He savoured the flavour of another sip before resting the glass on the table and facing his Solet directly. “You could be a great mage, dear sister, dare I say you could be greater than I. I don’t wish to make you feel restricted in your choice of education. You may choose wherever you want and you will get in.” He smiled warmly at his sister in assurance.

Solet considered his words for a moment. “I wish to go to Ersand’Enise still. As you said, it is the best place of study in the world, no?” She replied with a small, polite smile. Solet knew of her brother’s pride in Oiyan academies.

Malon looked impressed at her sister. “Despite my pushing, you remain steadfast. This is good, Solet, a leader must be decisive among all other things.” As he turned back toward the town ahead, his smile faded. “But your education does not start at school, I wish to teach you about the reality of our nation.”

A group of two soldiers were forcefully escorting a middle-aged Yasoi woman to the centre who was in a particularly bad state. She was carried limply but occasionally broke into brief, violent, and erratic outbursts that required the soldier’s full strength to subdue. When she returned to her placid state, her head sunk low. Malon clicked his fingers at the two men with a furrowed brow. “You two, bring that one to me.” He took another sip as they approached, he showed no signs of caution.

The woman sprung into another outburst, flailing against the soldier’s grasp right in front of Malon. He raised a hand, and the woman froze. He tilted his hand down, and the woman hit the ground like a sack of potatoes; her knees almost buckled the wrong way. Malon reached out a hand, grabbed the woman by the chin, and brought her closer so that he and his sister could get a closer look.

The woman’s eyes were vacant and lacked focus on any one particular object. Her mouth chewed the air absent-mindedly, there were scars of bite marks on her lip too. She was more beast than woman like this and Malon’s face twisted in muted disgust. He forced her face side to side and inspected every angle of her face. “This is aberration madness, dear sister. And it seems this little piggy has had her fill enough.”

Solet had only ever heard of aberration addicts through passing word. To be confronted with it directly made her want to be sick. As a noblelady, she was expected to be in perfect control of both appearance and etiquette. To see a woman who didn’t even have agency of her own faculties was immensely saddening. “Please Malon, I’ve seen enough.”

Malon threw the woman back before gesturing to the soldiers. “Take this one back and put her with the rest of them.” He dismissed them before using a mixture of binding and chemical magic to clean his gloves from the contact.

He picked up the wine and faced his sister again. “The peasants of this town conducted an uprising sometime in the last month or two. We are unsure of the exact time, frankly, the only reason we found out was because they were late on their taxes.” He swirled the drink and chuckled with amusement. “They removed all of our local forces in complete silence without a word getting out. Quite the rebellion, wouldn’t you say?”

“However!” He raised a finger to his sister as if to correct the girl who had yet to speak. “When I gathered a real force and marched in, there was no resistance. There were barricades, sure, but only a couple of people to man them. We marched in with ease to find a town wrecked and destroyed and a collection of yasoi, our countrymen, squabbling around in shit. Their mighty rebellion had crumbled before we had even arrived.” He gestured to pose a question. “What do you think caused that?”

Solet didn't have to ponder the answer very long. She had come face to face with it only moments earlier.

Seeing that all the remaining villagers had been gathered and forced into attention, Malon put both hands on his knees and rose. He picked up his ornate sword in one hand but kept it sheathed. “Please, don’t avert your gaze, dear sister, this will be an important lesson.”

Malon strode forth in a manner that fit his noble standing. His posture had an air of grim ceremony as he approached. He looked around to a place that was once a nice little town for farming fruit trees. The windows of some houses were smashed and broken, others had their doors busted down, and fruit and food supplies were tipped over and mixed with the mud. Is this the future their rebellion was fighting for? The display of incompetence disgusted him.

All eyes were on him as he arrived at the centre of the square. Soldiers regarded him with respect, the peasants regarded him with fear. “I have come to liberate you from the insurgent forces that have ruined this land!” He announced. “While the punishment is usually severe for rebellion, it is by the grace of your Baron and the Exarch himself that mercies will be bestowed.” He raised his hands invitingly. “Those who have shown signs of aberration madness will be kindly escorted toward rehabilitation and those innocent in the affair can go back to their lives. You may begin rebuilding your home with our assistance and security.”

“But you are not all innocent.” Malon looked down toward the sword, drew it, and tossed the sheathe in the mud. “I have a duty to see justice done. Will the leader of this rebellion please rise?” He waited and waited some more. Nothing happened. The peasants stayed huddled, forced on their knees, and staring blankly at him like they had no clue. They were dishonest rats who looked at him like children accused of stealing sweets. Discipline was needed.

He drew.

The effects of Malon’s draw were seen immediately. Children and adults of small stature began to keel over in sudden fatigue. “It would be unwise for loyal citizens of the Exarch to shelter rebellious factors. I would advise against such actions.” He continued to draw, some victims of it succumbed to slumber and the strong ones began to crumble.

But one peasant alone sat tall and Malon fixed his sight on him. It was a younger man only a few years older than himself, he sat up proud but cast his eyes downward and became blind to how sorely he stood out. With common raggedy clothes and coarse hands, this was a man of ignoble birth. No doubt the man’s prowess came from aberrations which gave him more RAS to resist the draw. The only thing that made him exceptional, perhaps, was a lucky streak at avoiding aberration madness as he engorged himself without care.

Malon knew one thing to be true above all others, power bestowed leadership, not the other way around. He knew that this stronger man was that leader because, even in a rebellious group with aspirations of equality, this fact remained true. He looked the ruffian straight in the eyes and repeated: “Will the leader of this rebellion please rise?”

A moment passed.

The man before Malon rose reluctantly with his eyes still cast to the ground. He trembled in fearful anticipation of what was to come. Malon gestured to a soldier on either side who closed in to grab each arm. The ruffian seemed to consider putting up resistance but gave up on the idea. He knew the harm he would cause the people around him if he fought at this juncture.

The man was walked to the centre of the town square and was now face-to-face with his executioner. Malon inspected his flawless ornate blade before looking up and pointing it forward. “Kneel.” The man did not. Malon clenched the fist of his free hand and the man shook before dropping to his knees in a sickening crunch. A few bones were broken from the noble’s use of kinetic and the man cried in pain.

Malon walked around to the side of the man and readied his sword. “Do you have any final words?”

He spoke in laboured breaths. “The people will be free. It may not be here, it may not be today, but we will see freedom.”

Malon paused.

Then laughed.

The noble kicked the bowed man in the stomach with a kinetically enhanced strike causing him to vomit and crumple.

“Did you hear that!? The people will be free…” Malon called out as if demanding answers from the crowd. He got only gasps, tears, and nervous fear. “You had the chance. You took your lives into your own hands. And what did you make of yourselves?”

“Around me I see addicts riling around in their filth!” He spoke mockingly. “You took your freedom only to enshackle yourselves to a far crueller and unforgiving master… But your suffering shall be at an end now.”

A flourish of his hand brought the rebellion leader back to his knees. Malon took a good final look at him. It was no wonder why people were drawn to aberrations. Power was the unquestioned ruling force in the world and a commoner without it will seek a means to go above their station. One taste of it and it would be no wonder that someone could get addicted.

But there was an end to it, despite this man’s desperate consumption of aberrations, despite his luck, there was no more he could do. A person was only born to inherit so much power and this man had capped out far below significance. He was not worthy to lead.

Malon raised his sword, then brought it down. The man’s head fell to the ground and mixed with the mud.

Solet looked upon the scene which burned into her mind. Her brother stood in the centre with a bloody sword and some splatter which speckled his golden plate armour. The people of the village lat, sat, slumped down around him and cowering in fear. She sat above it all from atop a hill, she had a glass of wine in her hand that she could no longer stomach.

Is this the price of wine? Is this the price of her luxury? She knew enough about Oiyan law to know her brother was being merciful, so why didn’t it feel like a mercy? Ersand’Enise couldn’t come early enough.




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Hidden 6 mos ago 6 mos ago Post by Th3King0fChaos
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Th3King0fChaos The Weird

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What Was Lost and Found





Desmond had fought to the very top of the world. He had beaten countless giants in the world of combat, within the heavens of warriors. He had reached the very apex of what it meant to be strong. A man who can contend with monsters, a weapon made flesh. He had learned countless forms of fighting. He had learned to love combat. He learned to enjoy the intricacies of fighting. He had reached the very pinnacle of what he could with himself. Heights that seem so lofty that they would be considered the heavens to others. Yet what he was taught most of all, was how to learn. And the love of it. And he had not talked to his teacher in a very long time.

1 year.

It had been 1 year since his birfday. That was the last time he had seen and talked to her, as even now, that time seems so far away, yet also so vividly real as if it was yesterday. Yet, time moves on.

The time flew by, countless hours of work, training, learning, and losing. He had found things to love and lost them the same. Friends he once thought he would grow with were gone. Times he thought would never end, were taken away. Deeds once done for good, were forgotten in a sea of political turmoil. He had done countless great things. He had seen numerous wonderful things. He had done countless hours of work for good. He had spent every moment he could doing all of what he could in what he believed was right. And there he stood, at the very top of the world, wondering, ’I wish I could go back a little. Just so I can see you all again’.

Desmond looked out to the rolling green hills, filled with gorgeous flowers, plants, and all sorts of wonders. He sat under a tree, waiting for the time when he would have an audience with the Arch Angels of Eshiran’s heaven. The world was quiet. A silence that was all too familiar. It was one of the few times Desmond could say he was alone to himself. There was nothing that distracted him from the world within him. The countless thoughts that swirled within.

Then, that silence was cut as he heard a familiar tune, a whistling melody that sounded like a soaring bird. It was one Desmond knew well as his head flicked over to see someone he knew all too well.

A tall Yasoi woman stood a few yards away, she stood with one arm wrapped around an ornate spear and with her other hand to her mouth, holding a leaf as the tune continued. The woman was blowing onto the leaf and using it to create music as she turned to Desmond and shot a little smile.



Marii'Icthilthan'Shibay, one of Desmond’s closest people he could have ever called family. She was staring at him as he did back. He had never heard of her even perishing. He was never sent a letter or a message about it.

Just that…Desmond then realized it when he thought some more.

When he was beginning to be sent shipments of whiskey from them, he was always curious how they got the money. He was told it was a risky job and a few of them paid the price, yet none of them told him this. He was never told this was the weight of that price. A price for them to then live a life well. Desmond was wide-eyed as she looked at him, her smile softened as she began to make her way over.

”Seems you made it here”, she finally made it over as she hit him on the head lightly with the end of her spear. She lightly wagged her finger as she bent over slightly to scold him, ”I thought I told you to live until you are old. I know I haven’t been dead for that long”.

Desmond was wide-eyed as he looked at Marii, he was dumbfounded as she knelt down to then be more on Desmond’s level, ”Come now. I know you’ve missed me. Say something at least”.

Desmond said nothing as he lept out and took hold of Marii tightly. Marii fell backward as she felt him hold onto her. She realized that Desmond had changed, his body was much harder, he weighed much more than she remembered, and she could even see now with the large scar on the back of his neck, that he had faced many more things. Yet the most surprising thing was when she felt on her collar water beginning to pour. She realized what was happening, and just patted Desmond’s head. She had no need to say anything more, not until he was calm again.

A smirk came across her face as she lightly patted his head and quietly said to herself, ”Cry baby”.





After a few minutes, Desmond had finally calmed down and the tears were gone, only the light redness remained around his eyes. Desmond had now positioned himself to lean onto the tree where Marii took a seat next to him as they talked, ”So how did you die?”

Desmond shook his head as he responded, ”I didn’t die”.

Marii turned to Desmond as she tilted her head. She didn’t ask anything, she just looked to him for an explanation.

Desmond lightly cast his hand out, ”Long story short, I was brought here to try and save a friend with another friend. She prayed to Lady Eshiran and she answered. She gave us a chance”.

Marii whistled as she looked around, ”If you told me that when I was alive, I’d be thinking you were eating too many mushrooms you found”.

Desmond chuckled as he shook his head He looked around as he even held his head as he said, ”Don’t remind me”.

Marii began to laugh as she wrapped her arm around Desmond and she said, ”So. Now that you made it all the way here. Are you gonna go and do what you have to?”

Desmond took a breath in as he looked out to the landscape. It was beautiful, the land was something awe-inspiring and breathtaking. He felt like someone here. He was seen in grace and showered in many things he would probably never feel in his actual life. He was respected by the higher authorities. He was treated well.

Here…

He had fun.

Marii knew this all too well. Desmond was one who always sought to have fun, whatever form it came in. She watched him, she realized how much he grew, how high he was able to soar. How wide his smile was. How much he laughed. Here he seemed so happy. To the point that no pain would have been remembered. As if it was washed away by the wonders of this world. Nothing would have been able to tie Desmond to his past. Nor would it cripple him, and force him to be anything more than himself.

It was in this heaven that he had been brought to find his friend. He fought as hard as he could to come to the point of entering heaven proper. He had met people he never thought he would. He met a friend who had been lost to him. Someone he would have never been able to say goodbye to in life. Here he was, in a land where he had been able to beat the man who had killed his friend and hopefully will not see again after defeating him. A place where he could see the countless wonders and marvels of technology. It was even here he had learned he had family, blood family. People he would have never had the chance to talk to. He met his great-grandmother Erika. He felt a love that was different from the ones he knew.

Yet as he sat there, he sighed as he looked out. He laughed to himself as he realized that he didn’t need any of this.

This was not him.

This wonderful place was like a vacation. The many things he experienced here were something like a dream, a long-needed one, yet one that he knew he would need to awaken from. He knew, this was not for him.

This was a respite from a world that tries to belittle him. It was lovely. Yet he did what he did not because he had to, he did it because he wanted to. The love of a crowd was wonderful, yet he didn’t crave it to the point of losing himself. The love of a parent was something he never thought he could have, and the moment he did, he knew what it was already. And knew he didn’t need it.

Not love of blood. He needs nothing like that. There was a love that was far stronger within him that he knew when he looked at Marii. A love for a family one found on their own. A family that was not given, but made and found. A love that was forged, not expected to be given. And not one that would be expected to be received.

He had a mother. He had a father. He had countless family members. He had been given love without conditions. Was that not what love of family was? Unconditional love. A love that would not yield, even in a dire situation. A love that could not be given words. One that made one strong. One that made one able to understand why there was rain.

Desmond chuckled and smiled as Marii did the same. They laughed with each other. They giggled and smiled while they laughed. Neither ever said anything. They already knew what Desmond would do next. There was just so much emotion between them that all they could do was laugh.

Because that was what love was.

There needed to be no words.

They already knew.

It was just good to hear it.

”I’ll miss you”.

”If I see you here anytime soon. I’m killing you a second time. Just so you can go back down”.

One more laugh was exchanged.

As Desmond began to travel down the hill. Tears began to fall from Marii’s eyes.

”I'm happy I got to say goodbye. I love you”.

”I love you too. Now get out of here before it rains”.
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Hidden 5 mos ago 5 mos ago Post by Emeth
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Queen of Diamonds: Liset's Interrogation





???

Liset could not have known how long she waited in that dimly lit basement of the book store, separated from her comrades. One of the queen's escort had been tasked with questioning her—the man who had tried to save her leg—but he had gone away to convene with another "friend" of the queen. Perhaps he intended to foist the dirty job of an interrogation onto someone else? Unfortunate for her, but an understandable choice for a man with such obvious kindness in his heart and bearing.

If she had tried to sense what was outside, to get a feel for who this unknown person was, she had found that her senses failed her. Everything beyond the top of that stairway—which itself seemed an insurmountable thing, now—was pure emptiness. Light came from there, and yet there was naught, until footsteps echoed from above. A small figure,definitely a huusoi, descended, until Liset's eyes could meet hers. What she found instead were the eye slits of a mask bearing the face of a fox. A small ReTanese numeral "6" was etched high up on the cheek, just below the left eye.

The mask may have been different, but her body shape and signature robes were a dead giveaway. So, the skull-masked mercenary who slaughtered the Colas was also the "Six-Tailed Fox," leader of a huusoi gang who played at being a charity organization—or a charity organization who played at being a gang, for it was impossible to see truth beneath their veil of absurdity. She was supposed to be supporting the yasoi refugees in secret, and yet she delivered death to the front door of some of the strongest yasoi in Mudville.

She sat in a chair opposite Liset and made the sign of Dami in her lap. As she did, the table between them suddenly began to make a cacophony of sick crunching noises as it folded in on itself and was crushed to splinters. "We don't need a table." At those words, the remains of the table appeared to catch fire. They were indoors, and such a thing was reckless—the only question that could have possibly been on Liset's mind was "why?!" ...It was an illusion. Nothing was consumed, and there was no smoke, but the heat and light were very real. "There's nothing to put on the table—this is not a negotiation. You did what you did, and the only thing you can offer me now is the answer to that question." She let her words linger in the air for a moment. "Why?"

"Listen," she fearfully smiled, "I swear I didn't know that the lady was the Queen." She had been resting her hands on the table, which now lie on her thighs.

"Pleading stupidity is not a great start," the woman replied. "I don't think you appreciate just how much work goes into convincing the local huusoi that you yasoi are more than just a festering nuisance." She crossed both her arms and legs as her voice turned irritable. "I had to rise above my peers—many of which are both my social and magical betters—to get close to the queen and convince her that the yasoi have allies in this town, however few they may be—and in one day, your actions could have jeopardized years of my life's work, and I can't help but find the timing rather convenient for my enemies. If you're saying someone saw you as a useful idiot, I want to know who they are, what they told you to do, what they promised you in return, and where they've gone. You should want me to know that too, if you have any pride."

"And my family had to eat!" her voice rosed but she quieted down, rubbing her head as the situation laid increasingly heavy on her. It was ever obvious to her that this yanii thought of her people.

"We were asked to kill some fancy looking Suunei," she admitted. "An Oiyan grabbed us saying he had an opportunity to make some cash. He never said queen, not once."

"Please, you got to know that I would have never taken this job knowing it was a royal," Liset pleaded.

If any part of the woman's body had been fidgeting impatiently as Liset spoke, there was now a sudden stillness. If there had seemed to be threats of violence in her body language before, they were lowered."An Oiyan, you say. How sure are you of that? How long ago did you meet him prior to the attack? What was his offer? Did he pay up front? Where is he now?" The woman continued to press for details, either ignoring the pleas or setting them aside for the time being—it was impossible to tell—but the Fox seemed to think she was getting somewhere, and her voice turned more calm and purposeful.

"He sounded Oiyan and we met a few days ago. Suurtor came into the place with an offer to make some cash, he paid a good chunk of Magus upfront and helped organize this. He was here with us but I guess he got away if you don't have him."

"He risked his own neck on this operation, too? Were there any outside contacts? Who tracked your target? What did he tell you, if not who she was?"

"He led us here and rubbed that plushtail stuff on the scrolls. and I'm telling you, Suurtor didn't say anything about the target. I just assumed they were some Oiyan defector with info." she claimed.

The Fox sat in silence for a moment, contemplating. It would have been impossible for whoever was tracking the queen not to know, with how they fill her ears with 'Majesty, Majesty.' But if he's the one who did all the heavy lifting... it's really possible that she just didn't know.

"He, at least, knew who his target was. You don't waste good plushtail on small fry. Bold of him to think he could try something so brazen with so many eyes on the queen. Did he seem competent to you? Or desperate? Perhaps just pressed for time?"


She paused as she tried to recollect some memories of her limited time with him. "I don't know, maybe? He had an air like he knew what he was doing. Like a bunch of coded words and shit. Nothing explicit."

The Fox waited, perhaps hoping she might elaborate. Then, however, she rose, and the heat from the flames seemed to move. "Well, I have enough for a report," she replied, sounding dissatisfied somehow.

The next few moments were a blur. Everything dissolved away, like fading into a dream, and Liset now found herself in a log cabin. The fire had moved, back into its place. The Fox was gone, and instead there was the man who tried to save her leg: Tku.



"Her story is consistent with the others—almost completely—but not perfect, like it would be if they'd all rehearsed their story together in advance. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but what you see is what you get: they're not professionals, and I doubt they know much more than what they've told us. She gave me the most info, so I left her simmering on the idea that she didn't quite tell us enough. Maybe you can get more out of her, Tku, but I need to start working on a report now. This is terribly urgent."

Tku gave a nod, "I'll do my best, thank you for coming quickly, by the way." Tku patted Xuiyang's shoulder before heading in.



As he entered the room he gave a weary smile to Liset, "Would you like to sit near the fireplace? It's much warmer there," he went to take a seat himself.

Liset blinked, unable to process what just happened. She nodded, and nearly rose to her feet before remembering she only had the one. Her face scrunched up, like she could cry. "What is this place? What's going to happen to me—to my family? That woman... I thought she'd take my other leg." She sniffled.

Tku took some leftover material and formed it into a crutch for her. "We are in pocket dimension created via dark magic. I'm not sure that helped explain things but that is what it is. Sense as far as you can to your left and you should be able to sense a the chest of a woman."

He summoned some fresh fruit and water for himself and left the pitcher for her to pour for herself. "As for what is going to happen to you I'm afraid nothing good Liset," he grimaced. "Your family should be left alone but some of the queen's entourage are furious."

When she stated that the fox had made her feel as if she was going to be maimed once more, "I would not have allowed it, I am here to find the truth. Not to bring you harm. So can you go over with me what you know. Withholding things only makes those who wish to punish you more justification."

"A... a what?" Liset stammered as she tried to use the crutch. It was impossible, though. Was it even two hours ago? Frustrated, she sat back down and used her one good leg to scrape her chair across the floor until she was closer to the fireplace. Now, she did cry. "Curse him. Curse the day I met him." She buried her face in her hands.

Given a moment, she went over her story yet again. "Suurtor organized everything. He led us around and told us what to do. We just had to do what we were told, and we'd get the rest of the money. I needed it. After the Colas... there was nothing. He didn't say anything about it being the queen, or that Ersand'Enisers would be there. The money was good, but it just wasn't enough for a job like that! He didn't tell us shit!" she cried.

Tku patted her on the back, "I know you are going through a lot but I ask you stay with me on this." he offered her a handkerchief. "I understand that and I syplathize with your struggles. But sadly, the best way for you to make it out of here to your family is to give whatever information you can. Even the smallest thing. You are sure he was Oiyan and that he was a militant?"

"I... I don't know..." she whimpered, wiping her tears. "Sometimes, his accent was hard to place. He seemed like military, but not quite. He didn't have a stick up his ass, you know? It's why we trusted him, even when things seemed strange."

Tku grasped onto that accent issue, "You think that a military man of Oiyac would have a very thick accent..." He offered her some food, "Eat, whether you are happy or sad, you still need to eat. I promise of Oraff it is just some grapes," Tku popped one in his mouth.

Whether she takes some grapes or not, Tku says, "Trusting someone is a always a risk. Sometimes you get it right and a relationship blooms. Sometimes you get it wrong and you get pushed down for it. Him taking your trust and using it is not on you Liset, How you act afterwards is. You have no allegiance to him. Can you tell me more about the 'strange' things."

Liset took a grape with some reluctance. "I told you, what was strange was how he wouldn't tell us anything. Just wanted us to do what we were told. He didn't give us that pretentious feeling you get when dealing with the Tarlonese—most of the time. He did get angry once, but we wanted to believe he was different. The Tarlonese would have kept things in-house, but there were no other Oiyans with us, just him and us locals. He seemed to know his way around this sort of work, but... the orders he gave us were weird, changing all the time. You know... he was kind of a pain in the ass!" she decided, indignant. "At least if it were Tarlon, it would have been clear what we were supposed to do from the beginning, none of this running in circles. They would have offered more money, too. Not that I'd have taken it if they told me who our target was, but still!"

"So a laid back Oiyan with military experience paid a bunch of locals to try and assasinate a yasoi woman. His accent was off, the orders were odd and most of all he didn't hire any other Oiyans?" Tku raised an eyebrow.

"Seems rather suspicious considering how nationlist the Oiyans are." Tku commented.

"He wasn't stupid, but sometimes it seemed like he was making it up as he went along," she replied. "He was probably a lone actor. Nothing makes sense otherwise."

"So you are unsure if they are actually connected to the Oiyans?"

Liset fidgeted. "I can't be sure either way. I've told you everything, okay?" She busied herself with the food, as anyone who couldn't be sure when their next meal would be would do. Perhaps it was unfair to expect her to decide who was ultimately to blame. Decisions that could change the course of history were nothing less than the burden of the crown, after all.

"Liset," Tku said in a solemn tone, "You know as well as I that your situation is rather poor." A silence took him. "I will do my best to prove you were unaware but your fate is in the hand of the Mycormish. As for your family, I will do my best to shield them from whatever ire they may gain from this."



This concludes my report. Based on the information available to me, I can only presume that our enemies have tried to set you up. It appears the most logical conclusion. The timing is most convenient, though the operation was characterized as rather impromptu. They did not expect us students, leading me to believe that their intel may have been outdated. The leader of the attack did not seem to have much support. Perhaps the Oiyans have a traitor in their midst who works with Tarlon, or supposed that he did but was thrown before the carriage so to speak. But I trust this information is of more utility to you than to me, and should your conclusions differ from mine, they would prove to be the wiser between us.

Mother Oirase bless and keep you. —六




Hello there, I assume my report will be mostly unused as Misses Solari's is undoubtedly more detailed and thorough. That being said, I do have some things I would like to bring up.

The one who gave the most information was Liset, the one who was maimed. Her story corroborates with the other fellow assailants but she gives some more information that brings something into question. She lists several oddities about the Suurtor. From his manner of speaking to some pretentiousness, he showed from time to time. At first, I believed it was a Tarlonese agent acting as an Oiyan rather adeptly except for a few moments. Enough to give Liset a feeling of something off.

I have another idea as well, though I wouldn't lend much credence to it. Suurtor seemed to know where we would be which is rather odd considering there was a tethered keeping watch and our itinerary was purposefully without direction. The ones within range of us who knew we were leaving for the bookstore were the queen’s replacement, the guards, and the 2 shop keeps. This proves little and this may have formed from the stress I have suffered but I believe that an internal investigation of people within the Queen's immediate and secondary circle. These are just the thoughts of a common man but I would be remiss to not say anything.

May Dahmy lend you judgement.
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Suicharte

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The Sun Shines Even At Night


Involved: Yuliya, Leon: @Jumbus


Some time had passed since the pair had visited the eclectic clothing stall that lay in the heart of Zengali. Following this, the two had pranced from place to place across the port city and participated in the Festival of Eshiran. The sun had begun to set, and the two had found themselves upon a beach where much revelry had begun to occur. Yuliya herself was more than a few drinks deep, and she'd returned from a nearby bar with a pair of exotic, fruity-looking girly drinks. She winked at Leon playfully, handing him one of the two and lay down on a nearby primitive beach-style chair, reclining and taking slow measured sips.

"You know, this 'mission' seem very relaxed. Last time I sent somewhere, I never got moment like this." She chuckled to herself, eyes dancing between the Sun King and the festivities occurring on the beach. Her pupils dilated at the sight of a juggler tossing several flaming torches, and there was no obvious sign of the gift. For a moment, she wondered how anyone could risk such harm to themselves, but she realized how captivated she was by the performance, and simply smiled. Times like this made her glad that she'd come to the school, even if she'd bore witness to an equal amount of horrors since attending.

A night of dancing, a night of drinks, a night of fun threw the White Thresher once more to the back of his thoughts. A hangover wouldn't be good for the fight, but it would be easy enough to get Roslyn or another chemical mage to solve the problem for him, so why not throw his troubles away for the evening? Good drinks and good company made the sunset best as he accepted the former from the latter with a smile and a nod. Leon gave Yuli a wink back as he took a long sip, he too was a few drinks deep.

Leon chuckled heartily. "It's a surprise to me too. Last time I was on a mission, the ship exploded and started sinking into shuckodil-infested waters." It would only have been a few years ago that the prospect of such a thing would shock him, but now it seemed just about commonplace with the going ons of Ersand'Enise. If anything, Zengali and the peace he enjoyed tonight was the surprise now. "If the opportunity arises, it would seem a shame to spend it toiling over worry."

Yuli’s mind wondered for a moment though, lost in alcohol, festivities and friendship, about the man she was spending time with here. Kaureerah was someone very dear to her heart and mind, given the moments they'd shared together, and this was the man she'd chosen. She could see why, certainly, for he was a handsome lad and held many traits women would find desirable, but there was an oddness to it that she couldn't quite place. Yuliya had a discourteous view of Ashon and his relationship with Penny, but she felt surprisingly content with this man taking another close friend of hers in his arms. Why was that? She pondered for a moment more, taking a long sip from her drink before speaking up again, turning her head to meet his gaze and offering a cheers of their drinks.

"You mind if I ask something personal? I want know something."

Leon raised his drink and the two glasses gently clinked. He looked off to the shore in admiration of the continuous beauty Zengali had to offer. But the girl's question turned his head back and he raised a curious eyebrow. He hadn't seen himself and Yuli being close enough to answer personal questions or for her to ask them. But what was booze for if not making fast friends? The thought of answering gave him no strong anxieties.

"Go ahead." The performer gave a playful shrug.

She took another sip from her drink, letting out a sigh as the cool drink battled against the humidity of the port city. Alcohol had a special place in her heart, and it often brought the strangest circumstances to pass. Normally, she wouldn't have bothered to ask this question, but a genuine curiosity remained in her heart: who was this man that had entered her friend's life, and why had he done so? Her eyes met his, and she began to ask her question.

"Why are you Sun King? Why not just Leon Solaire? It is not often we give ourself titles, you know?" she smiled, letting out a breath exhale as her mind wandered. She too, was pretending to be someone else at this school, and perhaps that's why she felt compelled to ask. What drove him to take this persona, and why? Because from what she understood, and the conversations they'd shared, she didn't believe they were the same person.

Leon's head almost snapped back around to Yuli with a smile. He set his drink down, rolled to his side, rested his head in a hand, and one knee went up as if he were spreading idle gossip in amusement. "It's fitting, isn't it? I originally made it as a secret identity for the trials but it seems to have just stuck."

He sat up and raised his hands out toward Yuli as if giving some grand pitch. "From nowhere, a man appears bathed in sunlight to bring light to the trials. He cares less for the competition itself, but spends the time saving others, even on other teams. Together the trials are elevated by the Sun King, light and joy for all." He chuckled away at the whimsicality. "It sounds cheesy when I say it out loud... But I like it."

She laughed along. It was whimsical, and something straight out of a fairytale, but it was a comforting thought. The idea of being a hero was a nice one in such a dark world. The events of the trials and the revolution had left a sour taste in everyone's mouth, and the fact he could go about with a smile and follow his dreams was something that resonated her, at least in spirit. "Cheesy doesn't mean bad, Leon. I like it too." A genuine smile graced her lips and she gazed his way. It became easier and easier to see why Kaureerah had fallen for him. But there was yet another question that met her mind, why did he like her? Not as in, she had no likeable traits but what would make a celebrity fall for a girl like that rather than attempting to climb the social ladder?

Leon raised an eyebrow at Yuli, his demeanour more formal. "I'm glad you like it Yuli, but I'm not sure you fully understand. I stand now as your equal but Vasilieva, Hohnstein, de Berbignon are all noble names with history and positions to be inherited. Solaire is something I made up." He took a sip of the girly drink while contemplating the matter further. "I mean no offense to you or others I call friend, but you were born a Vasilieva, raised a Vasilieva, and will always be defined by a Vasilieva. I was born without any earthly claim to call my own and now I have the reputation of a small king, kings from backwaters like Yarsoc or Blaaarth, but comparable to kings nonetheless."

"I'm still young though and if you were to measure the trajectory to where I climb. Well, I wonder where it will end." Leon pointed upward to the sky before letting his arm drop, he didn't have the exact words to answer it, he didn't need them. "The Sun King from nowhere who changed the world for the better." He gazed into the sky daydreaming. "If he could do it from nothing, why couldn't anyone else."

Her head cocked to the side in contemplation, because quite frankly, she hadn't gotten it. The idea of a hero was nothing new to her, but the idea of reaching for continuous heights in terms of political power was something she couldn't really comprehend for she'd never had to do it. In fact, she'd spent a good chunk of her time at the school hiding her status, pretending to be someone she wasn't in order to be treated similar to the rest. To try and gain an understanding of that sort of life. And here she was, confronted with an opposite. In her somewhat tipsy state, it made her laugh. She'd encountered so many viewpoints and ways of life, but this one was entirely fresh. An altruistic attempt to climb the ladder.

Leon was a little surprised that he made Yuli laugh, but he joined her quickly. "I thought you said cheesy didn't mean bad." Half of him was playing into the joke, the other half a little embarrassed at the unexpected reception. With the influence of alcohol, it was an incredibly honest response.

"Leon, there's a top of the ladder." She shook her head and smiled at him. "You have best intentions. But I think you don't understand as well. The higher you climb, less you see below." She took a long sip of the drink and breathed a sigh of relief from the coolness. "I came to school as less, and it let me see more." There was a pause, and she wondered if she was about to deliver some unsolicited advice that was hardly warranted, but she decided to speak anyway. Her inhibitions were too lowered to care. "Try not to lose sight of little things on your way up, or story of Sun King could have a bad end, you know?"

Leon adjusted himself and rose from his lying position. "But the ladder will always exist, Yuli. I saw what it meant to climb once and ran from it, but where does that leave the world? If those who care run from the ladder, from the responsibility, it leaves the climb to those who either don't know or don't care." Leon looked back to Yuli with a close-lipped smile but his eyes looked sadder. "But I suppose you’re right. All I see is the end of that journey and think I'll be the same at the top. Maybe I don't know what I'll lose as I climb each rung."

Yuliya listened to the words he spoke, and they brought a more sombre mood to the discussion. She was all too familiar with those who'd fled from responsibility, and in a way, she was one of those people too. Her people needed her - to the point they'd attempted to coup her dynasty once more - and she was here, playing games, singing songs and playing dress up with other noble children, studying magic without a care in the world. It stung, even if it was true. Someone had to climb that ladder, for better or worse. At least Leon Solaire was conscious of what he stood to lose, and for that, she hoped he would succeed.

Leon retreated to his thoughts for a while as he contemplated something. He picked up the girly drink, took a considered sip, and then looked into its fruity colour. "Maybe I need someone like you looking out for me, help keep me in check to make sure the story stays good. Along with some good drinks of course." He joked as he looked back to her cheerfully with a smile, wink, and a raise of his glass.

When the rest came, Yuli couldn't help but smile. Perhaps it was the flirty nature of the way the man talked, or perhaps it was the alcohol flowing through her system. She finished her drink and slurped the scraps away with her straw before setting it down on a table and meeting his gaze. His eyes were pretty, but also lonely. She knew why Kaureerah had fallen for this man, for the girl had felt the same herself. She blushed slightly but knew that what she had interpreted from his words was not likely what he'd meant. Still, it was an opportunity ripe for teasing the lad.

"Is that proposal, Mr Solaire? You dog, you. What would Kaury think?" She smirked and winked at the Sun King, before patting him on the shoulder, giving it a much gentler touch than she'd displayed at Mbita and Chikas. "I do like drink though. Good drink. Next round is you, Sunny. What we drink next?" She chuckled, but had more thoughts on her mind. She wondered if their lives had been swapped, whether they'd have ended up on the same paths.

Leon looked confused for a bit, before a slight blush took him and he began laughing. "Oh, no, I think we come from different places indeed." He said with an amused smile. "I like you, Yuli. But I'm not about to get down on one knee over it." He joked with a friendly tone and a wink.

"I grew up on the road with a line of caravans. Travelling performers and travellers in general were all to keep us company." He took the hand Yuli placed on his shoulder and put it in his. He guided her toward the central beach fire and then took her other hand to dance. It was a twirl and a twirl, in a drunken waltz for two. The drinks could wait. "There would be plenty we pick up on the road. They could be funny, charming, and easy to love. In a single night, you could feel as if you've known them for years. But then, as soon as a week from when they'd arrived, they'd be gone. Only an empty bed to remind us that they ever existed and we wouldn't see them again." His tone grew sadder as he spoke.

He brought Yuli in before letting her out to the span of their arms and back in again. He seemed in a brighter mood after that. "What I'm saying is, I hope you are one that stays along for the ride. I could use the advice, and you... well, what are you looking for?"

She was surprised when the man took her hands, but it wasn't unwelcome. Dance was an expression of the self, of the goddess she wished she embodied - that of Ipté, and she took to revelry like a fish to water. She whirled around with Leon in a dance that was uncomfortable close to the fire, and she didn't seem to mind. Her eyes wandered there for a moment - to the flickering flames. Once, she'd been afraid of it, but that'd long since passed. Her heart had been in and out of the freezer for as long as she could remember, and when it had been allowed to thaw such as now, she was unsure whether it was her true self, or what she wished to be.

His story touched her. It reminded her of the things she couldn't have, of the responsibilities that she'd eventually have to face upon arriving home and it annoyed her. She couldn't help it, even if his words and motivation was one that was genuinely good. It was idiotic to sacrifice freedom, the winds that Dami granted them to sail upon. She wished she could simply roam the country road and dance, and drink, and party with whomever she pleased. Perhaps it was ungrateful to the station that she'd been given, the gifts of her birth, the vast wealth and power.

But perhaps that's why she craved what this man once had - the freedom of choice. They were opposites, truly, but in a sense, equals. Not by birth but because they didn't know who they truly were - or at least that was what the Vossoriyan girl thought. She flicked her head and her hair cascaded in a mop as she let the thoughts rest in the cooler, and let her heart continue to warm for now, as she looked in the eyes of the Sun King.

"It sounds stupid, but I'm looking for friend." she laughed, her eyes wandering between him and the dancing fire. "I can laugh, dance and play pretend, but I am different. I am too high on ladder for them to see and understand me, you are knowing?" she paused, before resuming her hearty chuckle, this time over her obviously broken Avincean. Alcohol never helped that. "Sometime, I want slide down and join everyone else. Go on caravan ride with not care in world. And sometime, I do. But I can't stay." she whispered wistfully, her attention shifted from the flame to him fully now.

"I don't want be alone, Leon." she confessed, holding his hands tightly. "I feel my friends leave me behind soon." her voice was choked, and her eyes began to tear up. Penny would bear the children of that wretched yasoi and leave her station. She'd barely spoken to Zarina since Miret had gotten her claws into her. And Kaureerah, sweet girl, was off risking her life. As strong as she was of spirit, her body was weak. She was not Penny, or Zarina, let alone her. "I'll stay for ride, just let me know when it is time to jump off." Yuliya muttered shakily, and her cheeks became damp with tears.

How long had it been since she cried?

And when did she ever let anyone see it?

When had she grown this soft?

Leon thought for a moment and gazed into the flames. What she had said about the ladder, not being understood, it spoke to his soul. He had never thought himself the type; raised among those who had as little as he did. But now reputation, prestige, and the weight of expectations had slowly taken those freedoms. He could sit back and say to this girl that she could join the common man's dance and forget about her worldly worries. But then, when had he last joined the caravan he owed so much to? When had he returned to the orchard he considered home? He could do it at any time, but when would it not cost him so much more than it is worth? Those were questions he preferred to ignore because they made him feel lost. He had chosen the path ahead even above the chance to understand his mother.

Yuli snapped him out of his daze with as he heard the Vossoriyan choke on her words and noticed she was shedding tears. His face snapped back and he was no longer smiling, the booze and the emotions at play stripped that facade from him. He simply listened and sought to understand her. It was easy for Leon to mistake Yuli as older than him. She carried a coldness to her that he had only seen before in the older nobility. But there was no doubt in his mind now, he only saw a girl still finding her way in the world. A girl who had shed a front that had been held up too long. Perhaps they were very similar indeed.

Leon pulled her in for a comforting hug, swept aside her hair, and gently kissed her on the forehead. "You make an easy request but not one that is stupid. If it is a friend you look for, you can find one in me." He came back out from the hug and Leon smiled warmly. "Join my caravan and you shall never be alone, I swear it." He crossed a hand over his heart. "No one deserves to be alone in this world." What was alcohol for if not to bind yourself to lifelong vows with a person you've met twice? Who knew if Leon would actually keep it. As genuine as he spoke the words, it had not been the first time he had done this. A vow made from two nights of drinking and they left by the week's end all the same. Only time could reveal the truth, but he hoped for the best.

Yuliya stood in silence for a moment as the man hugged her. His skin was warm, and the kiss on her forehead was gentle. It was an unfamiliar feeling she'd had, especially since attending the school. So close, yet so distant at the same time. She hung on to that moment though, and found herself smiling by the end, even if the tears that streamed down her face tasted bitter. She wondered, deep down in her heart, if Leon Solaire would have spoken to her this way if she knew what she was, and what she'd done. Whether he'd look at her with scorn as she stood atop a veritable mountain of bodies who'd attempted to yank her down from that high place. Whether he'd realize the folly of the climb? It didn't matter in this moment though. She simply accepted it for what it was.

And so, as Leon finished his words, she pulled him in for a second hug. A tighter one, of thanks and apology. "Thank you." she uttered, sniffling a little as she rest her chin on the man's shoulder, wiping her eyes. "I didn't mean to make night emotional." she laughed, slightly forced as she pulled back again. Slightly dizzily, she sat back down in her beach seat, looking at the fire and then the waves of Port Zengali. She reached for her glass and saw it was empty, and sighed.

Leon was somewhat surprised at being brought in for a second hug but reciprocated and gave the girl slow, comforting pats on the back. "It's alright Yuli, there's no shame in it. I hear it's great for the skin, to let tears loose every now and again," he tried lightening the mood.

"Maybe is the drink, huh? Brings out good and bad in me. You better not tell them I cry." she pouted at him, running her hands along her face to clear the loose strands away. In that moment, she wondered some more. How long did she have with them before everything kicked off? These people she called friends knew little of war, death, battle and bloodshed beyond what the missions had offered them. She'd grown up and lived it. Would they come back the same? Would they come back at all? She hoped - nay - she prayed in that moment to the gods she'd both met and hadn't yet, that the war to come would not destroy them all. That they'd come back safe and sound, happy and whole. A selfish prayer, but a heartfelt one.

Leon returned toward his beach chair a little later with a sway to his stride, half in a performer's swagger and half a drunk man who let the sway of his body take the wheel willingly with delight. "Now that's something I can't promise Yuli." He remarked with a mischievous grin. "I am simply dying to tell the whole school that ice melts on occasion and even a princess of snow can shed tears... So you'll have to keep being nice to me." Leon gave her a wink before he bent down to pick up his drink and assessed the remains of the fruity beverage. Barely anything left. He tipped the glass up and savoured it to the last drop, how very few there were.

He looked back to Yuli and clapped his hands together with announcement. "So, have you decided yet? What you'll be drinking when you see me slay the White Thresher? The next round was on me or so I recall." His smile was wide and eager for the next round. The last drink was good, but he doubted it was the best Zengali had to offer. Yuli shrugged and giggled. She looked back to her empty glass with confusion, as she thought of a variety of drinks, yet none came to mind for such a momentous occasion. She turned to Leon, tapping her head in a grand revelation. "I think we need sample more." She grinned before continuing. "We try everything in bar, and I decide after?"

Yuli shrugged and giggled. She looked back to her empty glass with confusion, as she thought of a variety of drinks, yet none came to mind for such a momentous occasion. She turned to Leon, tapping her head in a grand revelation. "I think we need sample more." She grinned before continuing. "We try everything in bar, and I decide after?"

Leon thought back to the selection of drinks. It was quite a long list, she surely wasn't suggesting they drink all of them. Of course not. They would maybe drink 5 more and choose to retire. How could he say no to that? "Let the cup runneth over." He remarked with a smile before taking her hand and helping her up.




After around 3 more hours of drinking, Leon Solaire would find out that Yuliya did in fact, mean all of them. Not some, but all. The cup did runneth over, especially for the poor Sun King. So much was he invited to drink that he puked his guts out on the beach of Zengali, while Yuliya held his hair back. It was not something she'd expected to do that night, but she'd done the same for plenty of friends, and quite frankly, she found it hilarious that his bile had taken on a myriad of colours from the cocktails they'd consumed together.

If Leon's sway had been a question of intention or intoxication at the start of the night, it was obvious now. He had tried to keep up with Yuli drink for drink but was simply no match; not that he realised that until it was too late.

The search for the perfect drink reminded Leon of a Perrench tale he heard about a glass slipper. A prince and a common girl share a romantic night at a ball. But at midnight, the woman needs to flee, leaving only a single glass slipper behind. The next morning, the prince goes on a tireless search for his love whose foot would be the only thing to fit the shoe perfectly. Their shared goal tonight was equally noble and tireless.

He had thought to make mention of it. Then he realised that Yuli would be neither the prince or princess in that tale, she would be the shoe, which made it a truly stupid analogy to make. The realisation of this made him spit out some of his drink and burst into spontaneous laughter. Perhaps in a sober mind, it would only be a passing thought. But it was the funniest thing to him at the moment and made it hard for him to catch his breath. Yuli asked what he was laughing about, to which the performer refused to answer. Not only was it a stupid thing to laugh at, but how could he explain it? Tell her that she reminded him of a shoe? That was a bold risk to someone who crushed his hand with a greeting and he would deserve a slap for the comment. Some things you simply had to take to the grave.

As late as the hour had gone, the people behind the bar of the establishment had gone home. Yuliya, in her insistence that they continue drinking and find this perfect beverage, had decided to outright buy the beachside bar in the moment. It would be a decision that she'd regret in the morning given that it was around half of her allowance, but it allowed the Vossoriyan to continue her quest for the perfect beverage. The first few mixes were far too strong for Leon, and not quite right. Yet, the fourth drink that she made was exactly what she was looking for - a margarita coloured blue with some strange liquor from Huulendam, Tequila from Xochi and Triple-Sec from Perrence. Of course, the freshly squeezed juice of a Zengali lime was added. She sipped it, and for a moment, she figured she'd found it. She made one for Leon too, of course, wandering over to him stumbling in a drunken stupor as she handed him a glass.

"You are knowing..." she paused and hiccuped, shaking her head at the words. "I am good friend. I bring you drink even when you don't tell me what is funny. I want to know funny!" she hiccuped, pouting as she lay back down on her seat and lounged, sipping it through a straw. Perhaps she would have found a new hobby that night, for mixing drink sturned out to be a delightful time, but she'd be far too drunk to remember what fun it was in the morning. She swirled it around the glass for a moment and the colour reminded her of something she wanted to ask earlier. Blue, like her good friend Kaureerah!

Leon may have had some objection to a noble purchasing a community-gathering establishment such as a bar for the whim of alcoholic pursuits. But his faculties were not entirely with him. He simply thought that the bar's owner was nice enough to leave them the place for the night out of the kindness of his heart. A sober Leon would have thought the idea ridiculous but it made sense enough to a drunk one. Yuli and himself were nice enough people and you get given a lot of things when you are rich, hot, and popular.

He was smiles, smiles, and more smiles. Despite being on the verge of passing out multiple times during the evening, his positive demeanor never faded. It grew brighter if anything. When Leon was pressed again about his sudden outburst, he simply smiled wider and rested his head down with his arms on the bar's surface. He didn't look at the girl but shook his head to silently say 'no, its not gonna be that easy'.

Sluggishly, he raised his head again and kindly accepted the girl's perfect drink. "I might tell you one day, Yuli..." He picked up the drink to sip. "Maybe when the shoe is on the other foot." He put down the drink and tried to stop himself laughing, to which he was somewhat successful this time. But before Yuli could react, he lifted a hand to playfully dismiss the matter while he took a sip. Was it the perfect cocktail? It could have been, it could have not been, the performer couldn't tell anymore. But it did taste nice.

"You won't tell me that so you have tell me this. What..." Yuliya paused again, cursing under her breath in Vossoriyan as she struggled to find the words in her mind. "Why Kaureerah? You can have nearly any girl you are wanting, but why my friend?" she asked, curious. She looked at him all the while, sipping her drink innocently.

When Kaureerah was mentioned, Leon's entire demeanour shifted. It was subtle and difficult to tell exactly how or what emotions had caused it. But there was no doubt that the mentioned name was a powerful one to invoke in the performer's mind. When he looked back at Yuli, his smile was softer. He didn't show his teeth anymore but it seemed sweeter and more genuine. The glimmer behind his eyes was gone, those that constantly peered to the horizon brought all too close to the ground. When Yuli danced with him on the beach earlier, it was very easy to see him as someone larger-than-life, a figure who defied the logic of this world and carried winds of change few had seen before. He wasn't that now, he was grounded. He was just some guy named Leon. The alcohol had brought him halfway there, but the change in subject matter brought him all the way.

He chuckled. "You're a crafty woman, Yuli." He teased. "Getting me well past the point of drunk before questioning me." For a moment, he tried to look coy before he relented.

"The truth is Yuli: I don't know. I've had my fair share of ladies, and men, and all of them have been beautiful in their own right." His delivery was struggling under the booze but heartfelt to no end. "Some were taller, some were shorter, some with bigger tits." He brought his arms up to cup in front of his chest for emphasis, then threw them back down. "And yet, with all of them, I would have been perfectly happy to jump into that 'bush party' we heard back on the beach. Love is meant for everyone equally, after all... But it's not the case with her."

He looked forward to the bar, rested his face in his right hand, and looked lost in a daydream. "Sure, she has a beautiful voice, a sunny personality, and a cute butt. But there is no one thing I can point to that explains it, as hard as I try." Leon turned back to Yuli and looked her straight in the eyes. "She makes me happy, Yuli. Happy in a way I haven't felt in a long while. As much as I want to, I can't put it into greater words than that."

In her chair, Yuliya crossed her legs and took a long sip of her drink as she listened to Leon Solaire talk. Not the Sun King, not the celebrity, but the man. She was content that she'd finally broken the shell, and a smile crept up on her face as she finally found someone she approved of. "Is good answer, Leon." she laughed heartily, glad that at least one friend of hers had a decent partner to rely on. "She does have nice butt. But if that was main answer, I was ready to be beating your butt" and she began to laugh even harder, as the words weren't even forming coherent sentences anymore. She finished her drink with that, and waltzed over to the bar with a stumbling walk, regaining clarity as she rested her hands on the counter and poured herself another. "I'm glad for you, though. You and her. I wish you speak my language so you know how smart I am and I can make poetic statement or something." she turned, winked at him and sat up on the bar, raising her drink in the air.

"Well then, I'm glad my ass remains unkicked tonight." He raised his glass in turn and clinked it with hers as he chuckled. "I don't find poetry to be a strictly vocal art form. Sometimes words aren't needed." They drank to the final, perfect drink.

But afterward, a silence set in. Not one from awkwardness, just neither finding a need to speak in the moment. In that silence, Leon's mind wandered and he grew visibly more dour to the conversation of his inner thoughts. It wasn't long until Leon set the glass aside and looked to Yuli sadly.

"You are her friend, no? Yuli... do you know why Kaureerah joined that mission?"

She too dwelled on that silent, deep in both her thoughts and her cups. The sanguinaire swirled her glass around and looked down, smiling in a realization she just had. They truly were similar. "Same reason why you are here, I am think... she want make difference. Tired of running. Wants to change world for better." Yuliya's eyes met Leon's, and there was a recognition there. A feeling that he didn't want to lose this person he loved, but it was for the wrong reasons. "She's weak. But sometime, is not about being strong or weak. Is simply about doing what you think is right, no?" she asked pointedly, pouring her second helping of this drink into her mouth. She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, filling up her glass once more and trying the concoction with a cherry garnish.

Leon smiled back at Yuli, happy to have his thoughts somewhat settled. "Thank Yuli, you're a true friend." To change the world for the better. He wondered if he had even asked Kaureerah what ambitions drove her. It sounded so simple but he couldn't even recall asking about the change she dreamed of bringing into the world. He had only talked of his vision. "Perhaps I'm a fool, Yuli. I had thought I alone could make her happy. I thought her only a girl who wants to sing and perform and that I could give her everything she wanted. Maybe I didn't listen to the words." He joked grimly. "I don't mind that she did it, its just that I don't know why. I thought she was happy but people happy with the world don't do this kind of thing... I want to know she will come back safe, but I'm not there and I can't answer that question."

He was tearing up a little. "I'm scared, Yuli. Scared that one day I'm going to wake up and she'll be gone, like so many before. And it won't even be that shes gone, but that the person I hold in my memories won't even be her." Yuli could see it clearly now. It wasn't just a passing sadness but an intense fear that went beyond anything she had seen from Leon in the Forked Tower. Was it as simple as he said it to be or was he afraid of something else too?

She said not a word as she strolled over to Leon sitting in the beach chairs that they'd been drinking in all night, and gave him a hug. So many times in her life, she'd been heavy handed with her grips and jabs and whatnot, but there was an astonishing gentleness to the embrace she gave, yet it was still tight. She'd become awfully human this night beneath the starry sky, and for a moment, she said nothing, and only smiled at him with care and consideration. "It's good for skin. Don't worry." She ran her hands through his hair softly, humming as she did so. There was a part of it that figured it was wrong - that this wasn't her place - and that perhaps Kaureerah might have been mad at her for such an affectionate gesture.

She cast it aside. Her friend had been there for her moments ago, and she had the chance to repay that kindness. She finally spoke more, hushed and calm. "You forgot to look down, didn't you?" she remarked, hugging him a little tighter. "Talk to her, little sun. Before is too late, and your voice won't reach down. She will change, and you will change, but you will still be Leon, and she still be Kaureerah."

"Thank you, Yuli." He hugged her back and simply accepted her affections for what they were. He let the tears he had to give flow. "I will."




It was about ten minutes later after Yuli had returned to her seat and they were both enjoying the night sky that Leon came upon a realization. He sat up and looked at her with eyes of momentary clarity. "Yuli, I almost forgot I have a Thresher to kill tomorrow." He slurred out, coming to the latter end of a drunken daze. "I'm not going to be any use if I'm passed out on this beach chair for it. Please use some of your chemical to fix me up, I've really got to go."

There was a moment of silence that fell after he made his request. She could sense the desperation and fear of disappointment in his eyes, and yet, her face grew into a larger and large smile until she began chuckling harder than he did at the shoe thought. It was so beautifully ironic that this was how they were going to end the night, and she'd practically keeled onto the floor in such intense laughter. She pound her fist into the ground and none of that gentleness was there as the sand was pulverized until after a minute, she was finally able to speak.

"Leon..." she managed to get out before the laughter resumed, and another 30 seconds passed. It came to a stop, and she panted as she sat back in her chair and wiped the sand from her hands and hair. "I haven't taken a single chemical class."

Leon laughed along with her. Then his laughing slowed. "Come on, Yuli. Don't joke around. Just fix me up." When his response was only answered with even more laughing, he stopped and his smile dropped. She wasn't joking.

With all the speed he could manage, he leapt out of his chair and stumbled up the beach, out of Yuli's view. Then, forgetting something important, he returned back and hugged her goodbye with a Revidian kiss on each cheek. Even if they would struggle to remember all the details when tomorrow comes, not all will be forgotten.

This time, Leon left for good. Yuli watched him shamble up the beach, almost falling over twice, in a grand pursuit of a chemical mage to fix him. The Sun King disappeared over the dunes and it was the last Yuliyah would see of him for the rest of the night. Who knew if he would succeed in his suddenly presented quest.




Yuliya did not finish her drinking that night, for she'd found the perfect one for the scene. She tasted it and imagined it, and drank far more than a girl her size should have. She'd passed out onto the chair that night, and if the day were not so intense, perhaps she would have been a victim of thievery. Alas, she slept, and snored the day away in a bar she paid for, until her slumber was rudely interrupted by the sounds of explosions and a blinding flash of light. She squinted as she woke up, figuring she was still dreaming, but the hangover she had said otherwise. She realized she'd made a promise, and knew that light could only belong to one man, so hastily, she leant to the side of her chair and picked up the remains of one of the drinks she had and sipped it. It was warm, and the flavours had been diluted by the ice, but it was perfect. She smiled at the sun and raised her glass, before another blinding flash of light hit her eyes.

"Too fucking bright! блять!
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Dark Heart


Involved: Tommy, Ailet@Force and Fury

There was a hammering coming from the inside of one of the morgue cabinets, and Ailet rushed to go answer it. She blinked in the darkness and cursed under her breath. "I'm coming. I'm coming!" She picked the latch with her magnetic magic and it slid roughly open to reveal a bedraggled but otherwise unharmed Tommy, breathing heavily and wiping some hair from his face.

Blinking twice, she helped him out, hopping a step back and looking him up and down. She averted her eyes after a moment. "You... ahem." She glanced over for just a second. "Might want to put on some clothes." She gestured at a sheet that had been in there with him.

Before Tommy could do much, however, there came the sound of authoritative footsteps on the stairs and thump against the door. Without thinking, but very much thinking, Ailet rushed into Tommy's arms, her eyes pleading.

This... didn't feel right. He'd come through that portal adequately clothed, Desmond had seen to that after all. He'd lost some in the fight, mind you, but he wasn't stripped bare before the gods as he was when Oraff granted him his first breath. That being said, his sense of touch was also disconnected. Everything was wrong, and he was sure of one thing in that moment - this body was not his.

He reached for the sheet to pick it up, and he was sure he grasped it, but it did not rise with his hands. He tried again, only to be met for a second time with failure. Tommy Kavanaugh was a proud man of Enth, not one too weak to pick up a sheet of cloth, and he did not feel his muscles strain, because he had no muscles to strain. And were he a learned man, he would know that this was akin to the ghost stories many children in Barrowton, Dunvern and Harrowend read before a night of sleep. In fact, some of the students of the illustrious magical school may have been reading them on the night he'd come back.

Still, she rushed into his 'arms' and there was nothing there. He heard the banging on the door and looked to the girl that'd came to him. "Ailet, you knew me yeah? You think I'd ever struggle to pick up a fuckin' bedsheet? Why can't I feel anythin?" he paused, a little annoyed. He figured his return would be more fulfilling than this. "And I don't mean that in the weird fuckin' emotional sense. I was buzzin' to get back, but I mean my hands can't fuckin' touch anythin', you feel me? Well, you don't feel me?" he muttered, confused and seemingly mad. Again, he wondered why he was naked.

She went right through Tommy and stumbled, nearly falling over and twisting about to regard him strangely. Tommy spoke and... it seemed normal, but it wasn't. Ailet tried imagining him not there. Terribly scientific in her approach, she closed her eyes and plugged her ears. You're not real, she thought, you're not real, she thought, you're not there.

There was another loud knock on the door. "We can sense you in there! Open this door or we will open it!"

Ailet's eyes fluttered open in alarm. "Cud," she muttered, "Spax," she muttered, "Poca!" However, Tommy was... no longer there. You are in a state of limbo, she thought at him, Your soul is freed but it has no body.

She began moving as quickly as she could and was over by the evidence cage in three great bounding steps. I didn't pay much attention in theology class. I considered it all bunk, but the Gods are real, it turns out, and my entire worldview has just gone up in flames. She made no further pretense of stealth. She drew a massive amount of energy - everything that she could with her 8.5 capacity - and busted the lock open. Immediately, a thick cloud of sickly green chemical paralytic began to pour out of multiple nozzles and, at that moment, the door burst open as well.

Ailet'yrash'andarii could hold her breath for two minutes and twenty-four seconds. Her attackers could not. Massive bursts of kinetic magic forced the gases into their every orifice and they dropped. She hurried through into the evidence lockers.

He was there, and then he was not. A figment of her imagination? Had he ever been real? Did it matter? Tommy Kavanaugh did not care, for he found this terribly thrilling, and did not entertain the darker philosophical questions that would have whirled around a greater mind. Perhaps they were in hers, for he could see in hers? It was a strange thing - to share thoughts with another and he understood everything. The words she spoke in a foreign language were as real to him as the Enthish cusses he'd used regularly at the markets in Barrowton, or the banter he'd shared with mates at bars near the great dockyards.

"This is wild, Ailet." he laughed into her consciousness, having no material body. Even the act of 'speaking' felt strange. Then again, he'd been in hell for a month and a half, and this was better. "There's way too much goin' on up here though. How'dya know how long you can hold your breath?" he wondered, realizing that his thoughts too would reach her. He saw what she was after, not because he had eyes but because he knew what she'd think, and it was all terribly confusing. Visions of a thousand year plan rushed through his head and it clicked, but he didn't seem to mind or care. Besides, he'd gained an understanding of another language and the wonderful expressions that seemed to permeate it.

'yash duul spax' he thought, before a resounding chuckle played in her minds eye. That was a good one.

"What's the plan though, sweetums? Gonna pop their heads? How're we gettin' outta this sticky situation, my personal fuckin' limbo aside? Maybe my bodies in 'ere somewhere?" he asked, overcrowding her already overstimulated mind with more stupid questions, for it was his nature.

Dear Tommy, she thought, as she rifled quickly but methodically - and definitely not frantically - through the locker's possessions, I like your boundless curiosity. I like you, in a strictly platonic way. Please shut up for a moment. He had the image of a heart in his mind's eye - a disturbingly anatomically accurate one, mind you.

Then, Ailet's hand seized upon the apple. Unceremoniously and yet with paradoxical reverence, she slid it into her satchel, sparing a glance over at the two downed figures. She pulled out a few more items that looked valuable. Yours? she presumed, even as further energies approached. She was already drawing temporal energies. There were no clever quips, no words or speech. She simply triangulated space and time and then...

There she was, sitting in a spare room in the Ever Tree. Teleportation, Thomas, she explained to the presence in her head, following a caper and some associated skullduggery. Almost immediately, Ailet was moving, pushing open the double doors and striding out onto the balcony. Crickets chirped while moths and crane flies buzzed around an eclectic plethora of lanterns such as befit a residence of the yasoi. The air was cool and fresh and a light breeze stirred the leaves and her hair alike. The Tarlonese agent pushed her glasses up her nose and checked her pocketwatch, satisfied.

Spreading out before her was a starburst of branches and, below that, a drop of some twenty yards. She pressed a pair of little buttons at the tips of her crutch grips and the walking aids retracted. She flipped them back and clambered out awkwardly onto the branch for lack of a right leg. She crouched there for a moment, gripping it with both hands, took a deep breath, and prepared to drop.

He pretended to be hurt as he tried to quiet the thoughts for but a moment. Both their necks were on the line, and as she dug through the posessions of the locker, he metaphysically nodded in confirmation, that they were in fact his. Of course, it didn't matter if they were, he would have claimed so, regardless. In fact, as she looked at the bodies of the two fallen assailants, he too, felt a need to claim a rather nice pair of boots one was wearing, but they were whisked away in a flurry of magic to... somewhere else?

"Ain't that some bullshit. Schmovin' around like that? No wonder only that old fucker caught you, eh?" he laughed in her head, as he saw the memories that brought her here. He couldn't understand the workings of it, but he'd seen it be employed numerous times by the yasoi, and it was an impressive art. Many of his friends had these amazing gifts, and he couldn't help but feel slightly envious.

Then, she began her secret mission and he recognized where they were. Near the Arboretum? Memories of the room came flashing back to him as he recounted an encounter with Tyrel, in which he'd gone back to her room expecting a 'fun' time and received instead, a delightful friendly experience where the two played cards in their pyjamas and made shadow animals on her walls. It made him smile, in the metaphysical sense. Still, he had curiosity and didn't wish to delve too hard.

"Can I talk yet. Who're ya meetin'? Is it important?" he asked, slightly bored and restless, but mostly curious.

Oh, sorry, she remarked, you could've for a while. The statement was straightforward enough and she played it with such a deadpan nature that it was hard to tell if there was anything mischievous behind it, even if he was inside of her head.

With that, she dropped, hair fluttering about her, and landed gently in a crouch on all threes, courtesy of some kinetic dampening. In fact, you can go on about anything, she informed him, within decorum, of course, until we reach my destination.

She began moving, then, winding her way through the quiet streets under the light of five partial moons. It was just her, her foot, and the sidewalks before her - and Tommy. Yes, Tommy. In her head. Constantly.

Yasoi were naturally fidgety, and they had a tendency to get distracted and lost on strands of thought and conversation. Ailet, composed and dignified as she was, was no exception on the inside. However, the man sharing her headspace currently was twice as bad. The conversation never stopped, and perhaps she might have found herself losing nerve at the end of the night, but he continued to press, tease, jab, and ask everything he had on his mind, for it's all he could do. He didn't have a drug to consume, tasty food to eat or the pleasures of the flesh - nay - he had only his hyperactive mind and a conversation partner.

"You're a bigshot, aren'tcha? Thought you were strong n' knew stuff, but you're meetin' with some important fellas n' ladies." he thought, smirking in her head. "Do ya really believe in this stuff? Ersand'Enise bein' former yasoi lands? I mean, there's a lotta you guys there, but I thought it was between the prenchies and the pasta eaters, y'know? Stuffs wild..."

Thomas? Ailet said, as she turned a corner and cast about for other people's energies.

"What's up, sugar?" he replied smoothly, before there was a brief pause and he continued. "If this is some snarky way to tell me to shut up, you just gotta tell me and I'll do it. Just be nice, y'know. It's not easy in 'ere. You're too fuckin' smart and it hurts and I feel like I'm invadin' ya privacy."

And you haven't even reached my traumatic childhood memories yet, she remarked. You're still too happy.

There was a pause as she approached the door of a tavern that... appeared to be closed, and she took a moment to hitch up her tights, straighten her collar, and fix her hair. I know it isn't easy. I think I'd go insane without a body, but we'll get you one. I promise: as good as the original or maybe better. Now, she concluded, I will need you to quiet down, however. You can plumb around and know my innermost secrets, I suppose. It's nothing I wouldn't tell you if you asked anyhow.

With that, she bounced up and down once on her toes, swallowed and cleared her throat, and took a deep breath. She pushed the door open.

He stopped and listened to her with consideration, and then he spoke, materializing as opening the door for her. "After you. But, before I shut the fuck up so you can go about your secret agent shit, can you see my shit too? Cos if I'm diggin' around, you're welcome to do it too." he winked at her, looking at her enter and vanishing. "If ya need my help, I'm just a thought away. I'm a renown diplomat, after all." he joked, as he began to settle in and pry only slight. He begun with the traumatic childhood memories she'd referenced earlier.

An open book, Ailet remarked, managing something like a curtsy as she slipped through the door. I like books.

Then, she was in the meeting and he, in her head. They lay before him: the childhood memories of this strange girl, and his curiosity was not sated by the obvious, like how she'd lost that leg.

Tommy was standing there, but he was Ailet and she was perhaps nine years old and in her bed, trying to pull every inch of her covers over every inch of her body so she'd be safe from something called the erachenmuul. She tried to lie there on her legless side. She tried to tuck her arms in and pull her knee up to her chest. She kept her blanket over her head and breathed in only small bursts, so as not to alert the beast. It was irrational, she told herself. The erachenmuul was not a real thing; it was a story that people made up to scare each other but, with all of the horrors that were known to live in Tarlon, and the many others still unknown, could she be utterly certain? In her head, she imagined erachenmuulex all about her room: leaping out of her closet, creeping out from under her bed, dashing forward and springing out of her rug, dangling above her from the ceiling on gossamer threads. Energy beams leapt from her eyes, and slicing kinetic magics sliced them up.

Then, in her mind's eye, she sliced the leg off one and she felt bad for it, because that had happened to her. The moment of weakness allowed it to land on top of her and she screamed, sitting up in bed, thrashing her covers loose, and bounding out across the floor until she was halfway to the door, standing in the middle of the dark room in her nightgown without her crutches. The shadows moved and twisted and there was one on the floor. She was halfway between the bed and the door and she hopped for the door as fast as her leg would carry her. People were always surprised at how fast she was over short distances.

Her father came bursting into the room and scooped her up. She knew that she was too old. Shame burned at her cheeks. "It's okay, semprii. It's okay. What's wrong?"

"I..." she trailed off. The erachenmuul was not acceptable to say. She wasn't supposed to be scared of it. Now that there was some of the big room's lamplight spilling in, she could see the shapes clearly for what they were: everyday objects made indistinct in the darkness and transformed by her imagination into dangerous monstrosities. "...had a bad dream and then I saw some shadows and...I'm sorry for my weakness."

Father regarded her skeptically, and she yearned for him to just believe her. She was already damaged, she knew, and if she did not turn out to be the avatar of the goddess, she might be discarded to the frontier when she was older if she proved unfit mentally as well as physically. He set her back down and leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. "Your weakness is forgiven. You are a child and still learning."

She twisted on the spot, hopping once toward her bed, and looked over her shoulder at him for reassurance. "Three seconds, kiddo." He began to count her down. "Three..." With something between a terrified squeal and a giggle, she hopped three great bounds. "Two..."

"Nooo!"

"One!" He shut the door and she leapt onto her bed, scrambling under her covers and preparing her psychic defenses. The room was pitch black, but she sat there, for a moment, only partially covered, and calmly took stock of where everything was and what it was. She managed not to be scared for the next hour and ten minutes. She counted it all out in her head until sleep took her.

"She's a strange kid," mother was saying, not sharing in Ailet's triumph. She'd snuggled under her blankets like they were used to, pretending to be either asleep or too terrified to pay attention to anything, and they'd left her be. "There's no getting around it. She's not going to be chosen, and then what?"

"She's a bright kid too. They might train her at the academy." Her father was her defender.

"But there are others just as bright, and she's... was she like this before?"

Ailet knew what 'before' meant: it referred to a time earlier than something else but, when people that she knew said it in that particular kind of voice or situation, it meant something else: Before I lost my leg. She'd lost part of her hip and most of her butt on that side too and she took a moment to sense it. It just... wasn't as weird as it had been at first. It didn't really feel like a part of her was missing unless she really thought about it. Was it that big a deal?

Her parents continued to speak and she reviewed the evidence and concluded that it was. She concluded that people would like her less because of it. She saw them stare at her. She perceived the way that their voices changed to be higher pitched and 'sweeter' when they spoke with her. She noticed how they seemed shy and awkward around her and spent less time with her unless other people were watching.

This, however, was not about that. "She counted her number of steps to school the other day," mother was saying, but didn't everyone do that? "She always hums the exact same tune when she bathes and if you interrupt her, well..."

"I've seen it," father admitted. "Listen, she's a little bit odd, but..." He, too, trailed off.

"And that covering her ears thing when there are noises she doesn't like?"

"She's not incapable, Meryen."

"Ugh. I know. I know," came her mother's voice, and Ailet stood there against the wall, slowly pushing up and then easing down against it as she listened. They hadn't even noticed her big victory against the erachenmuul or the hours of research she'd done on the shipwrecks of the Strait of Medlac, but she supposed she hadn't told them either. "Just... I'm worried for her. Between that and her poor leg..." There was a pause. "She's such a longshot. Why is our poor daughter such a longshot?"

Ailet was a longshot. That meant that she had little chance of winning. What was she a longshot for, though? That eluded her, and she felt like it shouldn't have.

"We'll train her up," father reassured her. "She's a smart girl - one of the smartest I've seen. We lean into her talents and all of her little obsessions and let her talk their ears off. Shiin knows she can rattle on for hours about some esoteric thing and you might actually learn if you listen."

Mother chuckled faintly and Ailet wanted to feel proud, like she was noticed, Like all of the cool stuff that she'd learned that adults should know too was worth something, but she wondered if the chuckle wasn't a happy one, or if she thought that it was stupid. Maybe mother loved her less now that she had one leg and was weird.

"Did you know that the wreck of the San Jacinta de las Palmas contained exactly three-hundred-fifty gold bars and that was also the number of its crew?"

"Did you know that the male deep sea anglerfish has no proper digestive tract and is parasitic to the female?"

"Am I, now?"

Her parents laughed and Ailet didn't know what to think. She shimmied back across the floor, not even hopping because it was noisy, settled into bed, and couldn't sleep.

Tommy saw these memories and they couldn't be more different than his own. Yet, her mind was similar to his. She too saw and imagined things that weren't there, and he empathized with her on that. Still, the way she saw things were was strange. It was like a scheduled routine in the way she observed them. Still, there was priveledges to this place. She had her own room, and her own bed, and her own blankets. Her room was well decorated and the signs of a loving family was there, even if the tone of judgement came in.

It was harrowing though, to be singled out. He knew of this too, when he was born. He was one of the few members of his family blessed with ability with the gift above common parlour tricks, and expectations weighed heavy on him from the moment he was a youngster. He'd looked for escapism from it, but it still weighed him down. There was love and shame there, but he'd never felt alone. In this space, he truly felt hollow and empty. It was a fear for him, to be so divided from the world and the people around him that the only thing he'd be surrounded with were the things in his head.

"You're enough, Ailet. Doesn't matter what they think of ya, or all the lil weird quirks you have, doesn't make you any less. If anythin', it makes ya more." he thought, trying his best to smile at the better parts of these thoughts.

Ailet paused, a hitch in her bearing. "I know they were," she responded to some question that Tommy hadn't quite perceived, so lost was he in her memory. There were a few more words exchanged with a shadowy hooded figure across from her and he struck Tommy as... vaguely familiar? Like a face he'd seen in passing before?

Then, there was something about Torragon and her being needed up north and she strode out of the tavern and back into the cool, clammy nighttime air. The air hummed with humidity and clouds were rolling in over the moons. You can talk again, Tommy, Ailet thought at him, feeling a bit insane but, then again, she'd always been 'weird'. We're going somewhere soon, but you can talk... as much as you want.

"Appreciate it." he muttered, manifesting beside her as she walked in the night air. He whistled a tune and actually was surprisingly quiet for a moment, before he thought to her. "Torragon, huh? You really get around for a girl with one leg." he laughed slightly at the joke, but then he realized it maybe before she did. She was hungry, tired, and unclean. Not that it was his body, but the girl needed to take care of herself.

"Before then, you should fuckin' eat somethin. And drink. How longs it been, eh? he paused, and looked at her mischievously, giving her a wink. "And a bath too. That wouldn't hurt."

Ailet tilted her head and regarded him. "Oh, I've blocked my abdominal pain receptors," she said out loud, since there was nobody here to watch her talk to herself. She smiled with a hint of her own mischief. "Tapas en Torragon?" she chirped. "Then, you can bathe." She winked and held out her hand, as if his would not just sink right through hers, as if he would be brought along with her anyways. "Oh, and one surprise first!"

"Para mí? You're too kind, senorita." he remarked, smiling and wishing he could feel her hand, but the sentiment was enough. He was sure he didn't know those words, but hey, she did, so right now, he did.

With that, they reappeared not in Torragon, but on an enormous circular platform on a windswept seashore. Enormous deep grey waves beat against a rocky coast and there was a chilly nip in the air as it swirled Ailet's hair about her. Every once in a while, ocean spray would burst up over the lip of the platform and rush across it in a fast thin wave no more than an inch or two deep. Home, the yasoi thought at Tommy, and then tapas. She strode across the platform and it was hard to miss its faded brown colour and the thousands of concentric rings around it. Nearby rose a series of buildings in a stout but stylish compound, almost entirely carved out of a single colossal piece of wood. Beyond was a forest of impossibly tall trees.

That was not where they were headed, however. They were headed for a large vertically-sliding door that had been left partially open. Above it flew a black, white, and silver flag with a red starburst.

He took the sights in, for he'd never been. The architecture was certainly interesting, and differed from the constantian neighbors, but what took him by surprise was how maritime it felt. It wasn't too dissimilar to his own home. It was harsher, but not worse. He took a breath of air he didn't need, for he didn't exist, and turned to her, leaning over the platform. "Not what I expected, y'know. It's harsh and cold, kinda like where I'm from." he smiled as he followed along presumably to her abode. "Seems cozy, though. How'd ya normally get warm?" he asked, curious in his tone as he followed along.

Ailet blinked, twice. "Firewood." It was only then that it hit him that what he was standing on was a massive tree stump, far larger than any he'd ever seen. "Fuck me..." he thought, looking down. He wished he could touch it. "Was this around when you was a young'un?"

Ailet nodded, dimly aware of how crazy it must've made her look. "This was the aloi'hax, as we call it, the first of her grove and nearly five thousand years old. She fell to the Ai'meda when they attacked," she confirmed. "Burnt too badly for us to save her, so we preserved what was left and gave her a new life, of sorts."

He too nodded, for he didn't have to fear looking ridiculous. "All you can do, I s'pose. Can't say we got these in Enth." he smiled, thinking of home. "Where I'm from, used to be a big forest apparently. King had em' hacked down for longbows in some war against the prenchies god knows how long ago, and they never really grew back." he looked outward to the vast forest. "But it seems like you still got plenty of 'em here. Maybe there'll be another big fucker in the far future, hm?"

Ailet smiled faintly. "There will be," she agreed, with something strange in her voice, "as long as we win."

Then, however, they were approaching the door and there were figures moving about inside, opening it. I love you, Tommy, she thought quickly in a voice that made it sound offhanded, but you need to get back in my head now until I explain things to them.

One of the figures waved at her. "Well, if it isn't Yrash'andarii!" it exclaimed, resolving itself into a particularly tall and rangy-looking woman with black hair in a ponytail, knifelike features and glasses that matched Ailet's. "Back in one piece after being stolen by the warmongers!"

"Emyuulen!" the one-legged girl exclaimed, putting on a burst of jogging speed, "Haven't been too bored without me, have you?"

The flat-chested awkward-looking woman came to a stop in front of her and held out her arms. She bounced up and down from foot to foot. "Suuuuuuunei!" she squealed, and they embraced each other. She was tall enough that Ailet's face was somewhere around her shoulders.

What exactly did she mean by that? By all of it? He laughed, and retorted. "They can't see me, right? But I s'pose you mean to shut up. No worries. I gotcha. Don't keep me waitin' too long." He ceased to exist and returned to her headspace, and simply observed her familiarity with this other girl. He watched, for a moment, and wondered whether she truly meant what she said. And if he had to be silent and wait for her to explain, then he'd simply dig around some more. He wondered truly, what was going through this girls head.

Instead, he saw through her eyes and heard through her ears. This was a complex of some sort, with airy stained-glass windows in a light abstract style, gently curved walls, and grand rooms with sweeping vistas. It was all constructed of a single great tree stump, with towers carved and fluted so that the wind would play different notes as it whistled through the gaps. They call this place the Seasong Tower, Ailet remarked in her head as she followed Emyuulen deeper underground.

The windows became long shafts, strategically placed to spill columns of light where they were most needed and most aesthetically pleasing. Dust motes sparkled under the beams and, everywhere were atriums rising up two, three, or four floors, with benches and tables occupying nooks in their further reaches, and compact spiral staircases carved from the single unified piece of wood that made up everything here. In the darker corners, glass bubbles protected fungi glowing with bioluminescence and they cast a soft light over those areas. It was... art, but it was highly functional.

The two girls made nondescript chitchat as they walked, speaking about Ailet's mission, but it was nothing Tommy couldn't access already from living inside of her head. She checked in at various desks and was directed onwards until, eventually, she picked up another escort - Badren - who had a colourless uniform and a keyring, and went ahead of her, opening doors. The light down here was all bioluminescent, sprouting in bulbs from the walls and hanging in globes from the ceiling. Different areas seemed to have their own unique colours.

Finally, they came to a waiting room labeled [CREATION & RECONSTITUTION]. Everything was antiseptic white. Ailet was given a cup of water and told to sit and wait. The 'department head' would be with her shortly.

He felt some sensory experience like this, akin to her memories but very much in the moment. It was better, but irritating. There were so many things that she was keeping track of that were completely arbitrary, and he felt himself distracted numerous times. Even so, he spared his gaze around the complex they were inside, and he felt interest at everything at play here. It reminded him of Johann's place, just more... brutalist? Everything had a place and purpose, and he looked down with Ailet at the cup of water she'd been given only to be annoyed.

"Get yerself a pint, lass! You literally just crawled outta fuckin' hell!" he felt himself enraged at the circumstances. "Even Big J the Kerreman knows when to work and when to play!"

In Tarlon, we practice going without food and drink for weeks and days on end, respectively. Waiting a couple more hours will only make the feast sweeter. Restrainedly, she sipped from the cup and, had she two knees to press together, she would have. All about was the hum of energy, most of it blood or binding or... it was difficult to tell the two apart, in truth, and that was the dirty secret of most human magical practice: one that the yasoi did not avoid.

Then, finally, a tall thin man in spectacles and a white smock emerged from one of the doors and inclined his head in Ailet's direction. "I salute professor Andarii's service to our people," he said, and Ailet placed her cup aside, rose, and bowed more deeply.

"I salute premier Tazath's accommodation in seeing me on such short notice. I understand he is a busy and important man."

Premier Tazath nodded and gestured for her to follow him. With a flick of his wrist, the door before him folded back as if it had been made of many pieces of paper. Ailet stepped through and the pair soon seated themselves in a small well-lit room. Beyond a large curtain with the label [CREATION ROOM 1] people were moving about and there was the undeniable energetic stench of blood magic. The premier crossed his legs and arms alike, leaned back, and nodded for Ailet to begin.

"Yeah, yeah. I think you've already done that, you delightful fuckin' nerd. 'Ave a drink." he spoke, and she could see his eyes rolling in her minds eye. He ceased his talking when another gentleman walked into the room and began to share titles of respect. Protector, provider, premier, there was a funny theme going on here. Then they were inside a room that felt like magic that wasn't to be touched at Ersand'Enise, but not something he'd disavowed himself from looking into. In fact, he was a push away from applying for those oogly boogly edgy blood magic classes right before the revolution, and yet, here he was.

"Y'know, this sorta shit's outlawed at Ersand'Enise. There's only a couple of fuckers who teach it. I was interested before I got my head mulched. What're we doin' here, nuumi'ensa?" the language rolled off his thoughts almost naturally, creepily in fact, for one who'd likely spoken maybe 10 words of yasoi in their life.



Ailet blushed fiercely, unable to adequately curtail the biological reaction. In the middle of his sentence, Premier Tazath stopped and tilted his head. "You just blushed, my dear," he observed, and she swallowed and nodded. "An entirely inappropriate reaction to the act of observing something about a tree."

"That is the matter about which I wished to speak, Ailet replied. "The individual I've been covering in my account has been appearing to me in a series of intense hallucinations over the past day since my return." She pursed her lips. "One cannot discount the possibility of my having had a dissociative episode, but given my previous indicators of mental stability, it would appear unlikely." She blinked. "Why would I be imagining him and so vividly?"

"Your biochemical indicators tell a certain story."

Ailet fixed her glasses and cleared her throat. "He was a traditionally attractive - if somewhat rough-looking - young male, by huusoi standards." She blinked a few more times. "A purely biological reaction that was by no means particularly pronounced."

Premier Tazath shrugged. "And you said he was Enthish, correct?"

"Correct, premier." She bowed her head slightly.

Her senior tapped his quill against his chin pensively. "I see..." he remarked, uncrossing his legs and furrowing his brow. "Fair complexion? Crooked and discoloured teeth?"

"Correct, premier." She bowed her head slightly.

He rose all at once. "Come with me, professor Andarii. We recently had something quite interesting stumble into our arms and we weren't quite sure what to make of it." He turned and motioned for her to follow with a flick of his fingers. "Perhaps you'll have some insight."

He listened, and they went on and on, until he heard something that made his heart break, that he simply could not countenence. "Crooked and discoloured?" he exclaimed, covering his mouth in shock. He was standing right beside Tazath, scowling at the man. "I've got the best in my family, y'know. Brushed em' every day. And you... traitor!" he accused Ailet, pointing at her, before shaking his head and realizing her earlier words. "Traditionally attractive though? Heh. Hehehe. You think I'm hot?" he grinned, showing off those not so pearly whites.

It was as if someone was grabbing and pulling her from inside. Midstep, Ailet's hands shot to her mouth and she stumbled, nearly falling. She hopped to save her balance and then her arm, of its own volition, went and started pointing at... herself? Incongruously, she grinned before tamping down on it.

It took Tommy himself a moment to cue in that something was amiss, and the premier was - by then - facing his junior. "Fascinating..." he murmured. Then, louder: "Are you quite alright professor Andarii?"

Ailet's eyes were wide. Her heart pounded and her breaths came quickly as theories raced through her head. There was only one that she could settle upon. "Uh... I'm not so sure, to be honest."

Tommy didn't quite clock what was happening at first, but he felt it. His actions and hers were linked, because currently, their minds were. That was the premise he'd settled on, because he didn't understand the deeper connection or science at play here. "Alright, that's a lil scary, don'tcha think?" he remarked to her, before pondering for a moment. "I'm no bodysnatcher, but we oughta test this out when I'm not in front of your sciency premier colleague or whatever the fellas called."

I think we should bloody well test it out this very moment while the experts that might help us are here! Ailet retorted.

"Miss Andarii? I say, are you experiencing a loss of bodily control?" Premier Tazath seemed particularly fascinated.

"You're even fuckin' talking like me. When've you ever said bloody... fine, fine. Didn't wanna make ya lose your job or whatever sorta bullshit you're in 'ere." he waved off her retort and attempted to assume control. He imagined himself in her body, and forced his will for but a moment. It felt invasive and he didn't at all like the feeling, but when he was there, he felt a complete lack of balance. Everything seemed to move slower, and he felt himself tumbling to the ground as he barely caught himself from dashing her face across the clean room.

"Yeah... how does one walk on one leg... n' why is everythin' so fuckin' slow..." Tommy remarked from Ailet's lips in utter confusion. He touched her skin and felt something, and there was a grim sensation in finally being able to feel something, but at the cost of controlling another. He shook his head. He wouldn't betray this girl.

Premier Tazath pursed his lips as he watched the display. "With great fucking difficulty, Tommy!" Ailet called back, "and I'm plenty fast for my needs, thank you very much!" She was only in his head, however.

"Mr. Kavanaugh, I presume?" the premier inquired in perfect, though accented, Enthish.

Aye. N' you're the uh... premier? I think that's what she called ya?" he.. she? responded, struggling to rise to his foot. He leaned on a nearby wall for support, and nearly fell another time but managed to steady himself through a very improvised hold on a crutch. He responded in Enthish, but it didn't feel right coming from her mouth. "Didn't know you lot spoke my tongue in this part of the world, but I guess it's only natural for the learned folk." he found himself saying, and the voice just didn't sound right to him. He cringed slightly, and even his vocabulary had adjusted slightly. He thought to AIlet for a moment. 'This fucker's looking at me like he wants to kill me. Are we alright? Props, for the record, for getting around like this. I'd be on one of those chairs like Issy, I'm tellin' ya.' before he switched focus back to Tazath.

"If I'm to be honest, it's been over twelve years and I don't know if I could even get around on two anymore," Ailet admitted in his... her? headspace. "And no, he's analyzing you. He's seeing if there's any truth to this or if it's a hoax or I've simply lost my marbles. I don't speak Enthish, though I'm getting a sense of it as you speak. That was a test and I do believe you've passed it."

"Just so, Mr. Kavanaugh. That'll do for now. Perhaps you'd be willing to hand back control so professor Andarii might move again. Her... locomotion involves a great deal of muscle memory and I shudder to think of what it might look like without her in the driver's seat, so to speak." He paused. "I believe there's something just beyond these curtains that might interest you both a great deal."

"I will not." he paused, and his expression went stone faced. "With this powerful body, I will conquer the world. Bwahahahaha!" he tried to put on a menacing air and evil laugh, but it just fell flat into giggles as he waved his hand and nearly fell over as a result of it. "Kiddin, kiddin'. This girls a treat. Give her a meal n' a bath when this is done, yeah?" he winked at Tazath with a playfulness that couldn't be attributed to the young scientist, before handing her the 'reins'. 'Don't say I've never walked in your shoes now, sweetheart. he remarked in her head, continuing to laugh at his horrid attempt at movement in her body. Still, it earned a certain degree of respect for her, being able to move and adapt under those circumstances.

It was a good thing that Tommy was in charge of Ailet's face at that moment, for her reaction would've been... shock? Horror? A blush? A deep and almost painful cringe? Then, all at once, as if someone had just dropped her there, Ailet was herself again. She found her arms wrapping about her form almost - but not literally involuntarily and pulled them back to her sides and her crutches after a moment. Shoe, she corrected Tommy inwardly, Singular.

Premier Tazath took it all in stride, pivoting once more on his heel, hands clasped at the small of his back. He led them through the curtains and into the room beyond. It was... both a wonder and a horror. A dozen or more yasoi of all ages and genders moved about between various operating tables, and there were all sorts of glass and copper... tanks, the former with what appeared to be blobs of flesh in them!? Large spinning reservoirs of energy were spaced throughout the room, and further yasoi in grey jumpsuits seemed to be maintaining these. There were tubes, pipes, and vials with various liquids, slabs of various odd types of minerals in a variety of sizes, and an entire wall full of what appeared to be various body parts in jars.

Most strangely, however, Tommy felt something from Ailet that he'd only felt a handful of times before: nervousness and... was it shame? This is where I work, she told him in her head. We try to find ways to make the yasoi - and human - body better.

'Dear fuckin' lord, that's a sight. There's a big tubby kid at my school, charmin' fella but he dabbles in this sorta shit. Nothin' quite so grand and organized as this though.' he remarked in her head. It wasn't disgust that framed his thoughts but merely surprise that something like this could happen on such a large scale. 'You alright though? Hunger hittin' ya? Or is it the work?' he prodded, wondering why she was feeling so nervous, even though he somewhat knew the answer, for right now, he was her.

It's not exactly... normal people work, she admitted, filing away that bit about the... obese student for later. Some are squeamish. Some think it's.... creepy.

They continued through and there, behind a second set of curtains, a few more people moved about. Premier Tazath held up a hand and Ailet came to a stop. "One moment, my dear, if you please."

He disappeared through them and then Ailet was alone, but not really alone, for she had Tommy in her head. She made her way quickly to a set of pegs, grabbed a white coat and gloves, and hurried back just on time for the premier to poke his head back out. "Do come in."

"So, is this him, then?" asked a familiar-sounding voice. Yet, it was wrong. It was all wrong. Sitting on the table, grinning at Ailet and - by extension - Tommy, was... Tommy.

'For the record, it is kinda creepy. But it's useful, y'know? Like a spider. That's what me mam used to say. No creepy spiders n' the house gets filled with flies in the summer, and that's way worse than bein' a lil offputting.' he remarked, giving her a metaphysical reassuring pat on the shoulder.

'You gotta be shittin' me... is that Anje? I guess it makes sense, huh? But that's me! he thought to Ailet, absolutely bewildered at this series of events. Honestly speaking, it could hae honestly been one wild and wacky dream, and he'd have been set to wake up in his pyjamas back at his dorm room. Alas, it was not, and he was face to face with himself. This was by far the most disorientating sequence of the day, and he felt his mind grow somewhat unsteady. His grasp on reality and fiction was fading faster than he could really comprehend, and so, he asked a final question to Ailet.

'If... if I get stuck inside your head, touchwood I don't, you'll be nice to me, right? he remarked, resorting to baseline humour as a last resort for his own stability. Still, the experience was terrifying to him.

Ailet seemed, for what it was worth, almost as uncertain as Tommy. She reached out for him in her head as if to embrace him and then the anxiety hit, the aversion hit, and... she made herself do it. I'll do everything I can - and I mean 'everything' to get you back in a body - she assured Tommy, It just might not be yours, exactly.

"Ah, yes," interjected the premier, back in the world outside of her head. "This is apparently Anjeluun'asaan'tenjaxii, a figure from our history, having been on quite the adventure with yourself and Mr. Kavanaugh." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "I do admit to some skepticism at first."

"Hah!" laughed not-Tommy. "You thought I was some stark raving mad yanii. Anyhow..." Her eyes returned to Ailet. "So, you're him, then?" she snorted.

Ailet bristled as she turned to address the assumption. "I'm still very much Ailet." Her voice betrayed only a hint of the massive boiling hatred that Tommy would've felt inside of the yasoi. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced from her. Were she a dog, her hackles would've raised and her fangs bared. A low growl might've emanated from her throat. Instead: "But some version of Tommy has been... existing in my mental space," she admitted.

"More than that, dear," Anjeluun rejoined, "Try drawing, since you likely haven't yet, or you'd know, as a competent researcher. Tell me what you notice."

Tommy was surprised at the rage. He knew that she did not like Anjeluun because of some twisted past between their people, but they seemed to make amends in Hell. Perhaps that'd been a momentary truce, because were she him, she'd have leapt across the table and kill her on the spot, if she could. This was Ailet though, and she maintained control.

'I know you didn't like her, but damn. Sorry I made ya work with her, I shoulda known better. You're too good at keepin' yerself in check. he remarked, patting her on the shoulder.

And in response to Anjeluun's backhanded comment, Ailet drew, for she was more than happy to. There was something that she noticed immediately upon reaching her capacity, was that it was higher, not drastically so but by a noticeable margin. Was this a product of going through hell? Or was there something more at play here?

"He's more than a mental artifact. His capacity has materially added to my own." Ailet addressed the premier. "I assume it's the same for her."

Premier Tazath nodded. "She reported something similar." His eyes darted between the two and narrowed momentarily, as if taking note of something. "We'll be looking for verifiable quantifiable data later on, of course." There was a hint of a smile on his face, and his glasses gleamed under the artificial light. "The implications of this discovery, if we can find a way of harnessing it, are sea-changing."

Ailet nodded. "I am at your disposal, premier Tazath," she replied, bowing her head.

"As am I," replied not-Tommy. "But also my own, naturally." He-she cracked a lopsided grin and looked so very much like the real thing that a wave of intense revulsion rose up inside of Ailet. Tazath, for his part, let out a mirthful snort. "Naturally," he replied. "Now, if we can get you to lie down on the other table, professor Andarii, we might begin running some tests?"

You owe me no apology, Thomas. Ailet finally addressed him, having a moment as she stripped down and covered herself with a towel. Your course of action was levelheaded and correct in all ways but the needlessly emotional. It got us out of hell, after all.

'Emotions are important too, Ailet. It's what makes us who we are, y'know?

They lay flat on the table, and the experiments were conducted, Most of them were mundane, a testing of reflexes, bodily function, vitals and the like. It was all terribly mundane until a swap was once again requested, and Tommy occupied the body of Ailet once more. At least this time, he wasn't forced to attempt to stand in the much unfamiliar body, but the methods of testing were probing and uncomfortable. He too, conducted under the same series of tests as Ailet and performed wildly differently, obvious given that they were two different people that currently shared a body. Some time during, he was naturally distracted by the drawn out scientific process, and incredibly uncomfortable occupying something that wasn't his, so he began to converse with Ailet whilst notaries wrote down the specifics of what was occurring.

'Don'tcha think it's weird we got such diferent skillsets?' he thought, smiling. A yasoi in a white coat chastised him and his expression quickly returned to normal. 'Seriously though, these fuckers are thorough. I know it's part of the process, but I feel gross for forcin' you into your own head. Any ideas how we can make this shit go faster? he remarked, as the next series of tests began and his attention was once again recalled to the team of scientists. This one was related to magical aptitude, and they too remarked on how different their skillsets seemed to be. The only shared note was that they both shared a high aptitude for Kinetic, but the sensibilities and practicality of those skills were vastly different, and the process took a considerable amount of time considering Tommy's inability to explain how he conducted his own spellcasting ability. Not to mention that he accidentally destroyed a piece of lab equipment from his capacity being several times higher than usual. That sort of power was intoxicating to him, and he understood why the nobility flaunted their power so openly and eagerly in that moment.

Well, you pay attention and it'll go faster, which would be... optimal, Ailet replied. But I would love to just be able to shut myself off for now. They'd moved on to a study of mana and nervous mapping and there came a sigh from Ailet. How about I take a dive into your deep dark mind? I've nothing better to do.

'Help yourself. I owe it to ya since I saw a piece of your head.' he remarked in her head, as he heeded her advice and paid attention. She wasn't wrong after all, and to get things right, they had to be intrusive and scrupulous. Ailet drifted through the mind and memories of Thomas Kavanaugh, and in a weird coincidence, found a memory of his 13th birthday. A strange coincidence, considering today was officially his birthday. An auspicious timing to re-emerge from hell.

She found herself in the body of the young boy sat outside on a warm Dorrad's morning, for it was the height of that season after all. A rare occasion for Enth, but the sun was high in the sky and there were no clouds to be seen. He'd walked from his crowded townhouse as many of his family had left for their various jobs and enterprises in the morning, and none had wished him well on the day of his birth, but he thought perhaps that they might have remembered later on. He'd learned to expect nothing, for times were tough and the family was large. Still, a walk in the sun helped ease the tension in his mind and he found himself staring at the waves from a bench near the Barrowton docks.

Oftentimes, he found himself here whether rain, sun or snow. There was a peace in the rocking of the boats and the talk of sailors, dockworkers and construction. He sat there for a while, maybe a couple of hours. His stomach rumbled in hunger, for he'd had no breakfast but he simply observed how the sun moved across the sky, how men moved across the ships and how some came and went. He had thoughts about life, and an innumerable amount of regrets swirling around his mind.

One that particularly stood out was a fight he'd gotten into around a month prior, that he'd never stopped thinking about. He'd been at a bar with a bunch of older kids, for he often kept their company. Tommy made a point of keeping rougher company, and around the rough and tumble families of Moat's End and Dunn Street, his family name held a degree of respect among the gaggles of street gangs and ruffian children that roamed. One of his friends, Lewis Wynter, had gotten a rather unusual 'lucky' streak at a gambling table, and a raucous fight ensued between a gaggle of kids and older gentleman.

It was a whirling memory that he didn't have much recollection of. The adrenaline had spiked and many had gone for weapons in their haste. Tommy had no such need of those implements, and employed the gift as instinct, where he'd never shown it to the majority of his associates before. An arm of a man who was about to stab his friend went clean off with no interference, and a stool-chair was reduced to splinters, but he remembers grabbing his buddy by the arm and running out of that bar through a variety of alleyways in the dead of night. He remembers the sickly sweet coppery smell that came from the wound. The way it was so easy for him to mortally wound someone. He remembers that the man died that night, not only of that wound but of numerous stabbings that came after, and how 5 people died in a fight at The Jester's Folly. More were wounded. Hugh Sharman lost an eye to a dinner fork. Timmy Mugge had to have his left arm amputated from a gangrene infection.

He thought for so long about how fragile and weak mortal lives were, and then about how his mother had described the rich. They probably laughed at the idea that someone could die of something so... inane, but it was life. The hours passed like minutes to Ailet, but the memory picked up once someone came and sat next to the boy. His Aunt Deborah, or Debby, as she went by. A one eyed woman who'd worked at the docks since she was a girl, and his favourite relative besides his mother.
"Happy birthday, Tommy." she smiled, and ruffled his hair. He remembers that she was missing a good deal of her teeth, and how she had a burn mark on her right hand from when she hadn't been paying attention ironing clothes. How those fingers never seemed to move properly. How she walked stiffly from an accident at the docks. She reached into a satchel she often had at her side, and handed him a sheathed knife, with a more ornate handguard. "Even if ya got yer magic, shouldn't be unprepared. I don't wanna be goin to yer funeral. You gotta die after I do, ye troublemakin' lil shit." She winked at him with her one good eye, and he took the gift in his hands. It frightened him how nice it felt to hold, and that feeling of safety it gave him.

He said his thanks but the words weighed heavy on him as he began to walk. He didn't want to show her that his stomach was rumbling, because she'd have bought him food. He did not want to be a burden on someone who actually cared about him, even if she showed it in a weird way like buying him a knife. Still, it remained strapped to his hip and he went about his merry way back to his house. He passed through a long running alleyway of Dunn's End, that ran dangerously close to that tavern he so often thought about. Tommy knew the streets well, and he ducked through another passageway toward the back end of a bakery. where they threw out the scraps from the night prior.

He smelt it first. Then he heard the buzzing of flies gathered around a carcass. He flinched slightly before looking, and there was a sense of relief when it wasn't a man he saw, but a dead pidgeon. It made it no better when he rifled through the trash near the carcass and took what little remaining unspoiled stale bread that was there, but it filled the hole in his stomach as he began to stroll home. The only thing he felt was an immense gratitude that it wasn't a corpse, but he'd suspected it might have been. He'd seen more than one in that same spot.

The day had been like any other, for him. Many celebrated their birthday, but he did not. There was no cake or celebration when he got home, and only his mother remarked on it when she said good night to him. Only his Aunt Debby had gotten him a gift, and he treasured that blade for as long as he had it. Still, he slept better that night knowing at least one person cared about his life.

For a long time, Ailet said nothing. She did nothing. She simply processed: the casual poverty - in Tarlon, they fasted, but it was a choice; the assumption of indifference - it had hurt Ailet when her parents hadn't seemed to support her; the casual violence - in Tarlon, the environment was the ever-present danger, not people. She stood out, forever marked by an act of exceptional violence that had taken nearly a quarter of her body, but that was exactly what it was: exceptional.

The pause extended. The tests were finishing up, on both subjects. I care about you, Tommy. It just came out of her. She wasn't sure why, but it did. She found herself wondering if he still had the knife or if it had been on him when he died.

The examination was over and she took control of her body back. I want to see if we have your knife.

What followed was an hour or more of technical discussion and a teleport to the upper levels of the complex, where steam boiled off from a set of large aromatic cauldrons, and people broke bread from a singular great loaf to dip in a piquant stew. There were strange, airy sweet fruits, and cold fresh water. Ailet ate deeply and eagerly. This is piqash'thenii'mang, and the bread is tang'qit'vuud. We all share it, she told him in her head. The fruits are pereh'olii and silora. Can you taste it? She prepared to hand him control so he might.

He smiled in her minds eye in appreciation. He knew that well enough now, for people had gone to hell for him and she'd risked her own skin just to get him a body. He was grateful, truly, and any lost faith he'd had in his fellow man had long since been restored from that experience. 'Might 'ave been in the evidence locker. They mighta tossed it out though, was old n' barely holdin together.' he remarked fondly. Then, testing continued and so did discussions. He asked her some questions, but he remained quiet for a moment. He'd not failed to notice how hungry or fatigued she was when he'd occupied her body, and when they finally went to eat, he was glad. He knew what it was like to live on an empty stomach, and perhaps that's why he was so insistent on fulfilling those urges when given the opportunity. Part of it was greed, sure, but there was an acute awareness that each meal might be your last.

He occupied her just for a moment, to taste the myriad of flavours that came about the food. He enjoyed the communal style of eating, and he partook of everything. Perhaps his sloppy manners stood out more than when Ailet had eaten, but he did not speak out loud, only remarking to Ailet with a short 'Thank you. This shit's good. Different, but I like it. You'll 'ave to make it for me sometime, eh? And I can treat ya to a full Enthish. he remarked, smiling as he sampled the last of the variety, handing her body back to her. He was content to watch her eat and fill her stomach, for he could feel her satisfaction, but he did speak up when she'd finished sating her hunger.

'Y'know, it's a shame you weren't enrolled at the school. I guess you got this sorta shit to do, but d'you think we woulda been friends? Would you 'ave given me the time o' day? he thought, softer this time.

Ailet stopped to consider, midway through floating her tray back to the counter with magic. I probably wouldn't have, she admitted. My focus has always been on the mission. There was a pause as she let it down and began walking. Would you?

'Bein honest, I don't think so either.' he thought, laughing slightly at the irony of it all. 'But I'm glad we met. Thank you, Ailet. Heh, that rhymed. Think I'm gettin' wittier bein in your head.'

Ailet smirked, heading out into the atrium and starting to pull on the threads of space and time. Not something anyone's accused me of before, she laughed. I might do 'smarts', but 'wit' isn't usually a strong suit.

They were soon back on the other floor and in a boardroom. Normally, Ailet would've been part of the study, but her bodily needs had taken precedence after so long without.

"Simply put, this line of research shows great promise," Premier Tazath was explaining, "and we're interested in trying to recreate it."

"And if that item you recovered serves the purpose we were hoping for, this could be the start of something truly mighty." It was Emyuulen.

"We would do well not to get ahead of ourselves," advised another figure whose name both Tommy and Ailet had forgotten. "First, the proposed operation."

"Yes, precisely. We've been able to draw invaluable data from this study on the continuing nature of manas following biological death and how they map to the body."

What followed was a long-winded explanation full of terminology that Tommy struggled to grasp though, apparently, Ailet did. She explained the odd bit to him but, essentially, it boiled down to a half-dozen of Tarlon's most skilled binders in a secret department using the biological map from Tommy's manas contained in Ailet to essentially 'heal' a new body for him. Then, it was a matter of coaxing them into that new body...

To be continued.

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Zarina materialized atop the now slain thresher corpse that remained afloat, partially kept afloat thanks to the hooks many of the ships had planted upon it. Her hand reached into some of the bulging guts by its jaw and drew the obscenely large buster blade as if it had always been her's. With a single hand, no less! Albeit with the help of the gift and the unnatural physical might helped too.

With the grotesquely large cleaver over her shoulders in an all-too-cool pose, the partially transformed wildblood overwatched the vultures now plucking the corpse for winnings. Vivid, near-reptilian eyes glowing with a golden hue scrutinized all those that bothered to dumpster dive. Trinkets and baubles were fair game, but there remained hazards she trusted none with after the recent developments. Not even her own allies.




It was a while after Zarina took her watch that she heard the thud of a chest dropping at her feet, the top flew open and a few loose coins clattered out. Leon stood on the other side as the kind donatdaer of such loot. "A tribute for the fearsome dragon." His smile was apologetic. If Zarina had half the greed she jested to have then the problem would be solved, but the performer knew it wouldn't be that easy. A gift of gold was simply a consolation prize to the loss of her plan.

He stood there beside her and took in the Virangish girl's defined draconic features. This is the strongest he had seen them so far, even more than in the Forked Tower.

Zarina peered down at the chest. With a light tap of her boot against it, the bowels ripped open to present the winnings. One coin stood out, one she drew in her mind to compare with another coin she prompted into flight - a silver coin with the same face on both sides. “A bribe.” she remarked, her voice quite nasally to accentuate the unimpressed nature of her reaction. “Really, Leon?” she rolled her eyes and did not seem to have any qualms in pocketing that one valuable coin after a brief comparison. She hadn't rejected it, at the very least.

“If you're going to say something about how you wanted to save lives-” she raised her hand and waved in dismissal. “Save it, I already know.”

"An apology." The performer squatted down and begun picking the scattered coins back up into the chest. "But I won't deny you the sense of dignity. I'll put the rest toward something good for us all, I never had much care for money." He went to close the lid.

Leon paused, Zarina had beaten him to the chase. "I won't bore you with the repetition, only that I doubted myself when I saw your plan having almost succeeded. I was ready to join you and ensure it's success. Then it started drawing again..." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I wasn't sure if it had been sedated enough and I saw students nearby it, you most of all. Who knows of I made the right call, but I did it to save your life Zarina." He retreated the comforting hand. He had no clue how the dragon would react to that. Not with flames, he hoped.

Zarina raised her foot and pressed it upon the chest's lid, closing it and preventing it from budging. “I may act offended, that doesn't mean I'm above taking your advance.” attempts at veiling her smug satisfaction had failed. A sharp-toothed smirk reigned supreme on her expression. “It will go to a good cause.”

Reptilian, almost snake-like, eyes peered toward the hand that touched her. No sudden movement or reaction of great aversion. Only an uncomfortable and frigid look. “Of all people, Leon,” the blade over her shoulders was planted back onto the thresher's carcass and she leaned her shoulder against the flat surface of the massive cleaver, arms crossed. “I'm not the one you should fear for. In the blink of an eye, I can be gone. With animal-like brutality, I can rip off a thresher's brain. No matter how small it may be.” she dedicated her gaze to the scenery she had charged herself with surpervising. “I don't hate you. I'm not even truly upset. But I want you to do something to dispel a doubt I have-” there was no eye-contact as she spoke solemnly. “Make sure your 'allies' are clean from the poison we've found here. Hurt them if you must. You do not want to appear as Revidia's dog. You do not want this to happen again.”

Leon held his hands up from the chest and gave a small huff of annoyance. He wondered if Zarina was getting a kick out of sending mixed messages. He rose back up. (If this gets posted, this chest exchange can take place before the other thing)

Leon shrugged. "And yet I feared for you anyway. I'm sure you would have done the same for me." His tone was no longer apologetic but conclusive, it was what it was. He walked forward to stand beside her and followed her line of sight, feigning the same vigil the girl had dedicated herself to.

"My allies?" He had to take some time to think about what she meant. He thought of the other Revidians on the mission, then realised that one hadn't been among the looters at all. "It's a generous statement to consider Trypano my ally. Myself and Rikard made a pact with her to ensure the weapon's destruction. But I suppose she has a short memory when it comes to allegiances, I don't trust her to have kept that promise. Its fortunate we will all return to the same place when we leave Zengali."

Before Zarina could reply, Leon raised a hand to cut her off. "Food for thought, Zarina. Do you think that this weapon would be entrusted to an expedition around Mezegol if it were the only copy?" He turned toward her and looked into her eyes with certainty and resolution. "Do you trust me, Zarina? Despite all this, do you still believe in me?"

“No, I'm willing to bet they have a festering supply.” answered Zarina as she turned her gaze to meet Leon's. “I trust your heart, less so your head.” cold frankness came with unflinching eyes. A mixture of disappointment and frustration, directed at the universe rather than Leon himself, was the concoction that created such an emotionless reaction. “The fact that they likely have copies of the stuff made the plan all the more important. It WILL appear again. It WILL spread. And we don't have a proven weapon against it, other than the same old.” a nasal sigh escaped her.

“That bitch - the creepy one - was willing to let my friend die in order to study some disgusting slime. She is not a friend to anyone. A book you can most certainly judge by the cover.”

When Zarina confirmed her trust, Leon seemed satisfied and allowed himself a smile. Even if it was backhanded, it was good enough for him. With a wave of his hands, he put a sonic bubble around them and went back to talking business. He thought about bringing up the fact that Zarina had also been willing to give lives to study a slime today. But what did that achieve? How did that benefit his goals? "Zarina, I don't trust Trypano for more than just that. If she has taken off with the weapon, she stands to support a regime that would take the lives of thousands. She will see justice for it, I swear that."

After his vow, there was a short pause as he pondered something. "Another thing to consider: if you retrieved the slime, what if you couldn't find an effective cure in time? The Sovereign Pact could get the weapon and now it is just a normal part of war, both sides will use it because they fear the other will use it first... Right now, it's contained to a small secretive group, but undoubtedly they take their orders from someone." Leon looked at Zarina and smiled sweetly for outside eyes, but the subject matter gave it a conspiratorial look. "Would it not be better for the weapon to be disposed of before it sees the light of day?"

Zarina cocked her head, and then an eyebrow. “What are you getting at, Leon?” her tone seemed challenging, but her gaze oozed of curiosity. “Such a secretive group would be ... Hard to reach. I would wager that getting such people out of the picture would have bigger implication for the world than the removal of a bad, bad plague.”

It was the kind of subject matter that justified the sonic bubble he put around them. Leon's expression was performative, he wore a kind smile while he spoke of dire subject matters. To the outside eye it could have been perceived as a private conversation for personal reasons.

"Being hard to reach tends to happen with secretive groups, but I'd wager we both have a pretty good idea on who calls the shots. Even if we somehow stopped the weapon here, another would take its place, and another. A man who condones such things remains in power so what happened here is just a battle in a greater war." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Imagine if that man was replaced by someone kinder who would want this all to stop. Someone more popular to gain the support of the people. Someone, frankly, hotter." He gave Zarina a wink at the final jest to make it clear that that 'someone' was himself.

Ideas on who this replacement could be ran through her mind. It all seemed like a web of possibilities, many of which had their flaws but also their upsides. Then, of course, he used 'hotter' as a qualifier. The dullest of stares took shape upon the dragon's visage. “You? Really?” she scrutinized his form from top to bottom. She then tapped her thick nail upon the forearm he had extended toward her shoulder. “Are you even Revidian?”

"You have such little faith?" Leon was beginning to get tired of Zarina's mean mugging and his smile started to fade. He retracted his hand back and faced the scene of the thresher's remains. "It's simple enough really, I just need to marry-" He caught himself with a grimace. "Well, I'll find a way. If it is a matter of the people's support, I already have it and I'm Revidian enough... I don't plan to let the possibility stop me. I have the ability to change things, Zarina, my goal hasn't changed since the Forked Tower. This is the route for me to do it."

“I devoted my faith to a God that ended up being a guy in a big parka playing games in the trials. And I'm also not in the best of moods.” Zarina's eyes took in the gore that Leon had been watching, emphasizing the source of her discontent. “You alone won't make it. The great and mighty Hugo tried, and look what happened to him.” her crossed arms tightened around herself. “So I'll be skeptical. For your sake. You've got enough Yes Men. It's the least I can do as your genuine ally.”

"Well there's a big difference. I hop around and play games in the Trials and people only have more faith in me." He chuckled the thought away. "But your right, Zarina, I can't do it alone. I'm not even entirely sure you can help with this, but I told you anyway... I need you on my side and I don't want to let something like this get in the way of it. So trust me that justice will be done."

Leon shifted his eyes toward Zarina and tilted his head slightly to her direction. "We have an entire world to change, let's not stop that here. I don't think I'll get far without you staring me down on the occasion and letting me know my wrongs." He explained with an amused tone.

“Here's not the place for the details.” reminded Zarina as the vultures were piling up their bounties. One was missing, as expected. “But I'm with you.”

"I am happy to hear that." He said sweetly.

"Now!" he announced in a far more playful and upbeat tone. "As much as I trust you, I would rather minimise the risk of waking up with a knife in my back. So, we were actually talking about your love life this whole time. Me, being the nosy romantic, was prying into your fling with that Tarlon girl, Miret, was it? And of course, you were unimpressed by the poor timing, didn't want to talk about it, and told me to stay out of it. Agreed?"

"You may slap me if you think that'll sell it better."

The moment Leon finished and brought up even the the word 'slap', Zarina immediately seized the opportunity and raised her fist, arm bent in a ninety degree angle, to collide with his nose. Yes, she intended to potentially break it. Luckily they had binders up the wazoo.

“Great idea. Don't bring her up again, though. I'm still moody over it.” she warned with a faux-smile that was supposed to denote a another layer of fakeness. Although, truthfully, she did feel he had deserved some of it, tasteless comment or not.

Leon had extended his head forward a little to received the slap. He did not expect a punch in the nose and he recoiled back at the impact. "Ow, ow ow," he spoke through hands that cupped his mouth, "I had meant a pretend slap, Zarina..." He hunched over and expended some binding magic before rising again to a face that is perfectly fine.

"Honestly... this face is worth more than Zenobucks, you know." With a huff, he adjusted his clothing. Traces of blood on his hands indicated that it wasn't Zarina's blow being poor but more Leon's proficiency in cosmetic binding that had his face come out alright.

Then, when the silence took in, Leon realised it probably wasn't right to bring up. "... I'll keep her name off my tongue. But don't be afraid to let me know when you need help. I'm quite the asset in that regard and I do owe you a few favors." With that he rose a hand, clicked his fingers, and the sonic bubble dissipated.
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Monodrama


The preparations with the disappointment


”Good afternoon, Herr Gluck. What a wonderful day, is it not?” Adolf Gluck von Ower-Lientz looked at the unexpected guest with disdain. ”The least you could do was thank me for making time for your sudden visit, Herrin Hohnstein.” The audacity of the woman to not even show the slightest bit of consideration was maddening. ”I did not expect you to be busy.” She passed the nobleman and walked inside. ”Shall we talk further inside? I’m getting chills from standing in the open.” The older man balled up his fists but as the other wished.

As they sat in the smoking room of the estate the man crossed his legs and let out a heavy sigh. ”What is it you wished to talk about, Herrin Hohnstein?” The woman just smiled at his annoyance. ”Oh, nothing too much, Herr Gluck.” Her frame leaned forward as her gaze pierced right into his soul. ”I will overthrow the Rednitz. . . And I will need your help.” The man’s surprised expression quickly transformed into a mocking grin. ”What kind of substance have you been taking, for I would like some as well.” He chuckled at his own assessments. ”Oh, I am quite serious about this, Adolf.”

”Then you must have gone mad! To go against the Rednitz is suicide.” He slammed his fist on the table that kept the distance between the two. ”Have you never heard what happened to the Furths?” His mocking joy swiftly became anger for the woman’s insolence. ”You truly do not fit your given name. Your family is at it’s eleventh Adolf yet none have truly been a brave noble.” A small tear opened up above the woman’s hand as she grabbed something from it? . . A letter? ”Do you know what this is, Adolf?” His shocked expression gave the woman the answer already. ”That is my forefather Otto’s. .” ”Cowardly letter of surrender to the Rednitz. . . And letting their friend suffer the full brunt, alone.” Dory shook her head.

”He did not have a choice! His family was at stake!” The Glucker man stood up from his chair. ”I’ve had enough of this! You will now leave.” Dorothea sighed. ”And what would happen if you were in a similar situation?” ”What?” The man was too stunned by the question to further his rage. ”Sit down and think about what I have to offer Adolf. We both don’t want anything to happen to your family, right?” She signalled the man to sit down once more.

Once he sat down and recollected himself through the new revelation. ”Even if I would help, it is impossible to go against them.” The man’s voice had become shaken. ”Impossible? No, you see. The truth about the world is that anything is possible. You, no, your family has never sought those possibilities.” Adolf looked at the woman with utter fear. He did not know why, but he could feel something. . . otherworldly evil. ”Well nobody has ever uncovered the secrets to go against them successfully.” The woman smiled. ”The one who believes that the secrets of the world are forever hidden lives in mystery and fear. Superstition will drag him down. The rain will erode the deeds of his life.”

Soon enough Dory would point to herself ”But by singling out the thread of order will by the decision alone have taken charge of the world and it is only through it that they dictate the terms of their own fate.” The woman’s widened eyes gave off a crazed aura. ”You. . . Have made your point. What do you want of me?” With a snap of her fingers a knife would fall onto the table. ”I want you to kill yourself, Adolf.” Her tone was monotone and uncaring, sending a shiver down the man’s spine. ”But not now, I only want that when the time is right.”

”Then when is the right time?” He sunk further into the seat. As long as his family was safe, he could do it. ”Your family will be safe once you have done what I asked of you, so you don’t have to look so sad.” A soft nod was all the man could give. ”Wonderful! I’m sure little Adolf appreciates your sacrifice for him.” She then hit her forehead. ”Oh, silly me! I almost forgot your task.” She stood up, grabbed the knife and played with it as she approached the man. ”I want you to murder the good Herr Rheinsburg and make it seem like you were tasked by the Rednitz and if you are almost caught. . . Well, you know what to do.” The knife was caressed across his rough cheek, shaving off a couple hairs and laid into his hand after. ”Can you do that for me, Adolfy?” The man clenched the handle of the knife tightly, the woman’s midriff was open. He could make her regret toying with him, yet if he did. . . what would happen to his family? ”I will. . .” Dory shined from the response and soon stepped back, petting the man. ”There might be hope for your disgusting, cowardly family yet!” She bowed. ”I shall pick you up when the time comes, be ready tonight. I do not think an assassin is very intimidating in their sleepwear after all.” And then, she was gone.

The preparations with an old friend


The smoking room of Heinrich Rheinsburg von Foltz-Bletzen was filled to the brim with military regalia. opulent armors of counts past, swords adorned with golden intricacies and gemstones. In the center of this war-worshipping room was the massive table of the man himself, with him smoking a cigar whilst sitting by it on his Revidian made opulence. His eyes twitched as he spoke up. ”Herrin Hohnstein, could you not sneak up on an old man like me?” The recently appeared woman laughed from behind him. ”Sorry, sorry. I wanted to see if your senses are still as good as they were when I was but a small girl.” Seeing as there weren’t any guest seats present, Dorothea decided to sit on the table.

”Say, I heard you had a disagreement with Annalie. They could come for you, you know?” The response the man gave was not something she’d expect. It was laughter. ”Then let her come, I have more than enough men at my disposal to challenge her on that.” Dory shook her head. ”No, no, Uncle Heinrich. It won’t be a battle, that is not their style. You will probably have an assassin sent your way and make it look like you died in your sleep.”
”Cowardly filth! The whole pack of em. I should just go to them and show em what this old man can do,” The woman laid her hand on the enraged man’s. ”Going in with the full force of the Rheinsburgers would be a bad idea, the people might get the wrong idea.” She smiled softly. ”Would you give me your blessing to send them your message in your stead?” His voice was raspy but spoke true. ”I will give you my blessing as long as you won’t die, you hear me?”

”What are you, my dad?” She groaned jokingly. ”As your father’s close friend. . . I want to see you live a happy life, for that is what he would have wanted.” Dory did not say a word. She stood up and walked away. ”Remember that someone might come after you and I won’t be able to help you.” The man sighed. ”Do not worry about me, worry about yourself.”

”Dory!” The man shouted before the woman closed the door. ”Oretz keep you.” She smiled. ”Yeah. . . May they keep you as well.” And her disdained expression showed itself as the door was closed. ”Oretz doesn’t keep anything while Escheran only takes.”

Der Stille Staatsstreich


It was a wonderfully peaceful night in every corner of Feska. Even Wismar, the capital that always bloomed with activity the whole day round, was silent. Yet in one corner a woman set her plan in motion. A secret meeting with the militaristic Rheinsburgers and pressure upon the Glucks was all she truly needed. For the final preparation Schlachters were taken without a trace.


The first visit


The first house that was visited was the estate of her ‘lovely’ acquaintance Alfred Benrath von Lingermann-Kohler. It was not hard for the woman to invade the man’s private bedchambers. ”Wakey, wakey, Alfred. Your time has come.” The rather rotund young man opened his eyes and saw streaks of brown hair in his sight. This woman managed to get past the guards. ”You! I’ll scream and alert the guards, you hear me?” The woman couldn’t hold her laugh as he tried to threaten her. ”I hear you perfectly fine, but they won’t hear you.” A finger went across his cheek. ”Say, Alfred. I have a proposal for you.” She awaited his reaction and further confusion set in for the boy. It filled her with such satisfaction. ”Speechless? I’m only talking to you because I like your attitude enough to keep you around, Alfy. . . .” A sigh escaped the woman.

”I want you to become a part of a new Feska, a Feska without the pesky Rednitz. A Feska where we will both thrive.” Alfred shivered, this woman was mad. ”And what do you wish for me to do? Fight against them?” A surprised look was plastered on the one that laid on top of the young man. ”Fight? No, no, no, no, no, no. I would never ask a delicate flower such as yourself to fight those rough monsters.” She grinned, whispering to him. ”I just want you to tell a little lie, make this seem like a counter from the houses as the Rednitz tried to assassinate you and some others.” Her eyes glimmered as soon one of the Schlachters was placed in the room, knocked out. The woman left a knife by his side and went off the bed and held the unconscious man in place.. ”Be a strong man, Alfy. Kill him. Make people sing your praises as the one who fought off a would-be assassin!” He stepped out of his bed, hesitant to move further. ”But, is this truly necessary?” Knife loosely in his hand. This was not the reaction she had hoped for. ”You either take his life and thrive. . . Or you die here and now, ending the ‘thriving house’ because you were too scared to take one life..”

He should agree to this. No, he had to. The knife soon closed into the man’s throat, yet the unconscious man seemed to wake up. It caused a struggle on both parties, however the one that recently showed signs of life soon gave his final gasp. The woman let the body go and clapped. ”I’m so proud of you, Alfy! I knew you’d make the correct choice.” She then moved the young man to his door. ”Go, alert your guards. Show them that their incompetence nearly cost you your life.” And once he was near enough to the door she was gone.

The second visit


It was now the house that started this mess. The filthy Benthelmer, dirty traitors that they were. They deserved not an ounce of mercy. But word has spread of their potential coup and the Schlachters were at the doorstep. Wilhelm Benthelm von Lohling-Kaufman, rushed through his estate in a panicked state. Everywhere he went he could hear muffled screams and blades clashing.

Then from the corner appeared a woman wearing a carnival mask that showed a distorted gleeful expression. ”Hehehe, I found myself the lord of the castle! A shit-eating noble.” Wilhelm tried to back off yet the screams were louder from whence he came. ”Back off, I tell you! Or I have to use force.” The masked figure’s legs shivered. ”Oh good heavens, I’m so sorry, my lord. I’ll move out of the way.” And with a graceful twirl did the figure move out of the way. The man knew something was amiss yet had no chance but to take the risk, he ran but before he could pass the figure something stopped him. A fist? He stumbled back to the amusement of the masked figure, ”I can’t believe you actually fell for that! Hahaha! I’m here for you, stupid!”

It was then that something shiny was pulled away from her belt. ”But don’t worry your empty head, this’ll only hurt a lot.” Once the Rednitz’s Schlachters reached the Benthelm count, he had already passed. By the wounds on his body it could be assumed it was not a quick end.

In the background


”Do not disappoint me, Adolf. Or else it will cost more than just you.” That was all that was on the man’s mind as he climbed up to Heinrich Rheinburg’s bedchambers. Carnival mask obscuring his face.. It was adorned very much like his smoking room, yet not as filled out. You just have to stab an old man and your family will be safe

His frame loomed over the older man, the glint of the knife’s blade glinted onto his cheek. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry sorry sorry. He readied his hand and when he was about to sink it into his throat, he heard a voice. ”I may be old, but I am no deaf.” A kinetic blast followed his words, blowing the man into the wall. Heinrich got out of the bed and cracked his neck. ”Seems what I heard was true.” After his neck followed his knuckles. ”Assassins aren’t what they used to be, huh?”

The man panicked, he did not expect the man to wake up. He had to put this man to sleep. Yet when he was sure the spell was cast. All he could see from the man was a visible yawn. ”You’ll have to fight me like a man if you wish to kill me, son.” This was the one thing he feared, his forte being made utterly useless. Did she know? Was this all a set up?

Knife clenched tightly once more, the assassin rushed towards the older man. Yet when he knew it he was ass first on the ground, stinging pain on his cheek. Heinrich swung his hand loosely. ”For such a skinny fellow you’re quite sturdy.” It was hopeless, but perhaps he can be reasoned with. ”P-please let me kill you! The Rednitz want you dead. . .”

The man could only raise his eyebrow before bursting out in a robust, roar-like laughter. ”BWAHAHAHA, I may be old but I have never heard of an assassin that begs their target to die for them.” The man triumphantly walked towards the would-be murderer. ”Time to unmask the fool that so stupidly tried to murder me.” His prideful smile sending terror in the man.

His arms grew weak. Adolf knew what he had to do, this brute of a man was too much.

”Adolphus, Judith. . . . I’m so, so sorry.”

His mumbles were barely audible yet his action was clear as day. The knife was held to his throat and with one final roar the deed was done, The roar turning into a gurgled mess before it all went quiet with the final sound of the knife hitting the flooring.

The attempt was a failure. All according to plan

The Last visit


Within the capital of Wismar rested the Rednitz whore who deemed it suitable that the palace shared by all the houses would be her personal palace. But today shall be the end of this hubris and tyranny. The pentagonal table was mostly empty, yet Annalie Rednitz was still lounging in her own seat at this late hour. The doors opened and a masked figure entered the room. A chuckle left the redhead as she took in the sight. ”Visiting me at such an hour? Are you finally going to confess your love to me?” Her finger lazily pointed to the figure. ”But obscuring your good features with a mask does you no favors, Little Dory.”

The mask would be taken off and revealed the face that lies beneath. ”As astute as ever I see.” The girl performed a small bow before continuing. ”I have come with an ultimatum.” The smile from the Rednitz head soon faded. ”Oh, Dory. . . You know how much I hate to be made to do things. Your father thought he could make little deals with the other houses without my consent, so I made sure he could never do things around my back ever again.”

”Oh don’t worry, Anna.” Her eyes pierced into the other’s gaze. ”This won’t be behind your back.” Dorothea smirked with a mocking demeanor. ”I want you to become my subordinate in this new Feska.”

Annalie’s right eye twitched. ”Enough jokes, Dorothea. What makes you think I would ever accept such a idiotic proposal?” the woman rose from her seat. ”Did you forget something? I am the one that steers the ship! Without me this swampy speck of dirt will be aimless, worthless and eventually eaten up.”

”Maybe a year ago, but times have changed and we must change with it.” Dory summoned forth two blades. ”How about we settle this in a duel. You are the blessed Anna who is looked at favourably by Dami, are you not?” She threw one of the swords the Rednitz’s way before taking her stance. ”Or are you too scared to fight a woman you looked down upon?”

”If you were this desperate to be put down I’d have you killed alongside your dearest father.” Annalie in return picked up the sword and struck a pose. ”Don’t try grovelling once I win, I won’t keep you around this time.” Confidence radiating off her.

Annalie gritted her teeth, her face flushed with fury. With a sharp intake of breath, she lunged at Dory, swinging her sword with all her might. kinetic energy surged through the blade, aiming to overwhelm her opponent with sheer force. The clash of metal echoed through the hall as Dory deftly parried the blow, her movements were fluid and controlled.

"You think you can defeat me?" Annalie sneered and stepped back to reassess her approach. "You're nothing but a child, playing usurper!"

Dory chuckled, her eyes showed with a mix of amusement and disdain. "Oh, Anna, always so full of yourself. Did you really think I did nothing for an entire year?" She twirled her blade, the motion smooth and graceful, as if she was not taking the fight seriously.

Annalie, undeterred, launched another assault, this time with a series of quick, precise strikes. Each move was calculated to exploit any opening in her opponent’s defense. But Dory met each attack with an effortless block or deflection, her expression calm and increasingly more smug. It was clear that she was toying with her opponent, letting Annalie tire herself out.

The Rednitz leader's frustration grew, her movements becoming more erratic and desperate. With a roar, she summoned a surge of kinetic energy, aiming to blast Dory off her feet. But Dory seemed to anticipate the move, sidestepping just in time and countering with a swift kick to Annalie's midsection. The impact sent Annalie flying and the woman would soon hit the table.

"This is getting boring, Anna," Dory said, her voice laced with mocking disappointment. "I expected more from the great Annalie Rednitz." She advanced, her sword poised for the finishing blow. "It's over. Submit now, and I might spare your life."

Annalie’s eyes blazed with crazed defiance. "Never!" she spat and drew in energy, more and more until she was beyond what her body could take and she could feel it, but it did not matter. This brat needed to feel why she was the greatest ruler this puny state had ever seen.

She charged at Dory, her sword aimed directly at her heart. But Dory stopped the noblewoman utterly in her momentum, just far enough to reach her chest . Before Annalie could break free, Dory’s blade was at her throat and in swift consecutive movements did she lose her blade and was thrown to the ground. "Checkmate," Dory leaned down and whispered, her voice triumphant in tone. "You’re beaten, Anna. Accept your pathetic state as reality."

Annalie sat frozen, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. The realization of her defeat dawned on her. Her eyes met Dory’s, filled with hatred. "What now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dory smiled, a predator looming over it’s prey. "Now, I want you to call me the new ruler of Feska.," she said, her tone held it’s mocking tone. "If you do so I might spare your life. Choose wisely."

Annalie glanced around the room, at the empty seats that once held her pawns, now as empty as her influence. She had no choice. With a heavy sigh, she nodded. "Dorothea Hohnstein, You are free to rule this sinking ship." She grimaced.

Dory’s smile widened, the look of a conqueror. She lowered her sword, stepping back to allow Annalie to regain her composure. "A wise decision," she said, her voice silky smooth. "Too bad for you, I know that you’ll stab me in the back when you get the chance.” A soft chuckle left her as some stone-like things popped into the room carrying some of the fallen of the night.

”Don’t worry, you won’t die. Well, your body’s heart won’t stop beating at least.” Annalie’s eyes widened as fear began to set in. ”But you promised! You said that if I called you-” Dorothea intervened. ”I told you that I might.”

The matter of the bodies began to disappear until nothing was left. ”But do not worry, you won’t feel any more pain in just a little while.” Tears fell down the fearful woman as she was held in place by the other parties within the room. ”No, no. I beg of you. Please, I’ll do whatever you say, just don’t kill me!”

The drawing woman shook her head. ”I can no longer stop this anymore, you know?” A massive tear in reality was ripped open in between the two. ”I wished we could’ve been friends, you know? But after last year I could never forgive you.”

”You can’t do this to me, Dory! I am the reason you got this far! I am the reason you are alive! I-” It was then that a great surge of unnatural energy filled the room. ”Goodbye, Anna.” Once the energy settled the woman began to convulse. Shaking, crying out in pain as the limbs began to spasm in ways they were not meant to.

The grotesque sight continued for what seemed to be an eternity until the last breath escaped and the body went limp. After a while the woman’s eyes opened, but this was not the same woman. The look in her eyes was different. Dory looked conflicted by her action, but knew she had to go forward with it now. ”You will hide your face when by my side, Thalraxa. I do not wish to see it for a while”

The possessed woman bowed her head down. ”If that is your wish. .”

With that the night passed and eventually the rest of the world would wake up to hear the news.

The Aftermath



The aftermath was much like any other power grab. The people continued their lives as the governing body was restructured and rebuilt. There is no longer a system of five houses that was usurped by an outsider. No, now there was only one house assisted by two houses.

Alfred’s efforts to calm the neighbouring nations that the new leadership would keep status quo seemed to be rather successful, although the ones that weren’t able to be placated with just words were the pirates, thus starting a campaign of dealing with them. Through talks with the state they base their fleets in and if need be by force.

A necessary evil has been used to free the nation but when no one truly knows what occurred that night who will hold said evil actions accountable?
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Hidden 5 mos ago 5 mos ago Post by Fallenreaper
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Epilogue of White Thresher

Epilogue of Cast Away

Events after



Other Scenes


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Hidden 5 mos ago 5 mos ago Post by RezonanceV
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Evander Fino Synesti




White Thresher


Monsters and Legends. Who could tell which from which as the battle between a fleet of hardened men and women roared against the White Thresher? The tides, only to be cast by the gods, came hurling at the hull of the mighty Mkuki wa Zengali. Fashioned with wood and steel, protecting some of Zengali’s finest. Today, however, the finest would know fear. The beat of each wave synchronized with each beat of fear in their hearts. The certainty of surviving was lost on many. For the men and women on board, a collision with fate was all they could surmise—a fate known as the White Thresher.

The monster attacked and the legends clapped back. All 48 cannons were prepared and firing. After their brush with death, the Mkuki wa Zengali took damage. Similarly, St. Elmo’s Fyre was knocked down, trying to get back up. Evander saw what could be a fortunate opportunity as he spotted the pirate Falzon in a vulnerable position. At the cost of furthering his mission with the Marquis, Evander took his shot. Falzon was nearly as necessary because of who he brushed shoulders with, an antagonist closer to Revidia’s chest—timing his exit as the White Thresher attacked. Evander teleported from the decks of the Mkuki wa Zengali and onto the decks of St. Elmo’s Fire.

Evander immediately took in the damage caused by the White Thresher’s earlier attack. The once-swift and mighty ship was listing, foremast buckled, and the crew desperately trying to keep afloat. Amid the chaos rang an alarming voice. Xavier Falzon, without fault or fumble, directed his men with a mix of authority and desperation.

Falzon!” Evander’s voice punched through the din, firm and commanding.

Some sailors twisted their heads, eyes darting to their perceived invader. One called out -

Aye, a Revidian bilge rat!

Ain’t none of you welcome on this ship!” Another shouted.

Falzon turned, eyes narrowing on the Revidian noble as his men gathered the courage to jump Evander from all directions. Slightly confused, Falzon extended a hand to see why this Revidian was aboard their ship in the middle of a battle.

Stand down. Let’s give the rat a good paw checking before we bite.

The sailors huffed and puffed at the orders. Falzon approached the Revidian and turned to face his lads, “Well? We got a boat to keep from drinking the depths!

The crew scattered after Falzon barked orders before focusing on Evander, “What ye be here for, kid? Your kind isn’t exactly known for charity.

I came to help.

Unless you came aboard to grab a bucket and toss what water we’re taking on, I suggest you leave wherever you came from before I let my men tear you apart for mucking our clean decks.

Evander held his ground. It appeared true: Falzon’s attitude had hardened against the Revidians. The evidence was in his lashing words without provocation.

Mucking up your clean decks? When did our coin become lesser than the paws who snatched them?

What!

What swayed your eyes and temper from us, Revidian bilge rats?

Don’t act a fool, you little princock! You slither beneath sheets to find gaping wounds to poison with your dirty ambitions.

What are you talking about?

I know why you’re here. You won’t finish what he started.

Evander tilted his head in puzzlement, “I’m here because I met with Nerio Lucchese on Isla D’Amato. He told me about your shifts towards Amelea of Segona. Shifts that risk Revidian ships.

Amelea? That’s why you’re here?

Yes, why have you shifted to her and now seem to have a grudge with Revidians?

Falzon’s jaw tightened, “winds change.” He unsheathed his sword, taking a step closer to Evander. “And, when the tides turn, and gusts catch you by surprise, you ought to be ready to take the spokes by force.

Trying to read Falzon’s intentions, Evander slid one foot back.

Be careful, pirate. Hastening your turns and catching too much wind is a certain remedy for disaster.

Falzon took a second step closer. Evander warned him again, “Think not of you but your men!

The captain scoffed, “That is all I do now. Name yourself so I may know who I will cut down!

Evander Fino Synesti, son of Duke Foscari, a family who’s traveled these seas longer than you and I.

Falzon’s hand came sundering down like lightning. Faced with the choice to stand his ground and trust that Falzon was bluffing or give way to the pirate, ending his story on St. Elmo’s Fire, Evander didn’t budge. The crack of the blade against wood as it snapped rope shot through Evander’s ear, a hairline away from his cheeks.

Falzon’s bullish face and rank breath were striking Evander’s space.

The son of Duke? A Synesti, no less. Perhaps the fates rolled for our tails to meet, perhaps, not. I'd be a fool to cut down such a chance at a proper duel. Show me how nobility fights and I will show you why I do not follow.” The Djamantese stated as he turned to take three steps back before drawing another sword.

You want to know why I shifted? Perhaps I will share if your blade rubs it out of my throat. Perhaps I won’t.

Evander pleaded, “Don’t do this, Xavier. I came here on friendly terms.

Perhaps your master should’ve done the same!

Falzon’s sword arced down from above. Evander quickly ripped the pirate’s wedged cutlass from the wood next to him using his magnetism. The two curved swords clashed, one in Falzon’s hand, the other by Evander’s magical touch. Any later, Evander would have given up his ghost. In this dance of fury, Evander flicked his wrist, manipulating the magnetic field around his cutlass to find zero gaps in Falzon’s defense. Instead, Falzon met steel with steel and, redirecting the weight of Evander’s cutlass, there was an opening to strike Evander down. As Falzon’s cutlass stabbed toward his target, the ship hit a wave that pushed Evander and Falzon off their footing. The pirate missed; Evander evaded.

Evander saw this opportunity to spin the blade around and through the air. His cutlass hummed with energy, attempting to sever the link between Falzon’s hand and weapon. Yet, Falzon was like a black cat twirling to face Evander and redirect the blade again. Except this time, Falzon would cut and cast Evander’s blood across the deck.

Dear boy, you must see your mission is a failure; get off my ship or meet the locker.

It isn’t over yet, not until my blade rubs your truth out of your mouth.

Why are you so determined!

Because what comes next is more important than you and I.

Says you!” Falzon spat. Then he charged.

Evander played a smirk on his lips as he was about to reveal the dance of metal and magnetism. Recognizing his folly too late, Falzon witnessed Evander flick his wrist as before. Evander’s cutlass came bending back, aimed at Falzon’s exposed flank. A visceral slash caught flesh, painting blood and regret onto the St. Elmo Fyre’s planks.

Falzon tripped over his feet but had not yet fallen, so he continued his charge. Evander sidestepped while revealing a dagger that superficially cut the pirate in passing. More of Falzon’s life force drained onto his ship.

Let’s stop this foolishness, or else you’ll be drowning in more than just water.

Finish this!” Falzon, in desperation, took Evander off guard.

Evander adjusted but took the last of Falzon’s might into the thigh. Evander staggered, feeling the sharp sting in his leg.

Let’s.” With a grimace, Evander tightened his grip on the dagger, eyes locked on Falzon’s desperate, bloodshot gaze. The tension hung thick in the air. In a fluid motion, Evander lunged forward, twisting his body to avoid another wild slash from the pirate. His shoulder bashed Falzon’s chest, sending the older man to the deck. Before Falzon gasped as his back smacked the wood under him, the air chucked from his lungs with Evander tight to his neck with the edge of his steel.

The fire in Falzon’s eyes dimmed as he looked up in defeat, his strength spent, “collect your pay.

Why change course against Revidia?

Falzon's eyes darkened, "Prospero."

"What about him?"

"Prospero ran a false flag to undermine the queen. Levidan's Brigade, my fleet, got caught in the crossfire." Falzon's head slid to the side, "I lost my brother, Marju." Taking a moment to collect himself, he raised to meet Evander's eyes, "Amelea offered me revenge against the Doge."

Evander released his blade’s edge and backed off Falzon. At that moment, the ship was silent. The crew was caught between the rules of a duel and nearly losing their captain.

So you seek to destroy Revidia for what Prospero has done to you and your crew?

Yes.

Evander shook his head and slid his dagger back beneath his garments, “you know as well as I do that Prospero does not represent all Revidia.

Sure, yet Revidia follows him.

Revidia does not follow him. In time, Prospero will meet his fate. For it is what he’s sown, and all men hang by the threads they weave.

So what? Who will avenge my people and have Prospero hang by his threads?

You.

What?

Revenge, this is your demand, correct?

Yes.

I’ll help you by guaranteeing your freedom to operate, and if you get your chance, I won’t stop you.

Falzon studied him, “And those who executed the deed?

"That's a personal matter for you to handle," Evander answered. "For now, what say you?"

The pirate’s eyes flickered with determination. “What do you want in return?

"I want your pirates and Amelea." Falzon's heart launched from his chest, "she's mine!"

Evander sensed a protective response to his comment, which his counterpart misunderstood.

"I want to speak with her, Xavier, that’s all."

Falzon's eyes furrowed, and his facial expression tightened, “I’ll see what I can do.

As Evander and Falzon came to common ground, the monster roared as it took on a last strike from those who'd be called in stories from this day forward as the legends who slayed the White Thresher off the coast of Zengali.
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Hidden 5 mos ago 5 mos ago Post by Force and Fury
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Q U E E N O F D I A M O N D S : A C T O N E



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It is during the 'dog days' of Dorrad when a young queen comes to visit Ersand'Enise. She is Hylaneii'doren'ismax, newly-ascended monarch of Mycormii. The yasoi nation, once a major player in international politics, has all-but disappeared from the world stage for the better part of a century. Now, with the twin continents standing before a precipice, she arrives at the gates of the largest neutral player for a whirlwind four day visit in the hopes of... well, it isn't exactly clear. Intrigue follows her right from the start and it now falls to her royal honour guard - students chosen from the academy and near-peers with her in age - to get to the bottom of the mystery and protect the Queen from danger!




After the near miss of the Queen's arrival, fears abound for her safety and suspicions as to her motives hover in the background. She is both a maverick and - clearly - a target, and not only for assassination and blackmail. She is young, she is beautiful, and she is a reigning monarch, that is to say 'eminently marriageable'. Recovering quickly from her opening ordeal, Hylaenii sets out to dazzle her hosts and, they, her. She carries herself with such poise and charm that she seems almost to float as she walks, her great dress billowing out like a bell. For every comment, she has a witty rejoinder or some worthwhile insight, and yet... one can't help but sense that the woman has secrets. Perhaps one young potential suitor might reveal them...



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Hidden 4 mos ago 2 mos ago Post by Jumbus
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The Death of Cawuio-Zast



Cawuio-Zast had spent his previous payday of 100 Magus the night after he had gotten it, some payments he remembered, some he didn't. His life from then scrapping by until the next score and this was one for the history books. The treasure of Don Cojones was surely an ill-gotten marvel for the ages and would be remembered for years to come. Zast had decided to take this treasure for his own and disappear of the earth, leaving the riches a vague memory in the minds of others. How long would this hoard last him? Two, three days? He needed it.

Waist-high waters meant Cazenax-high waters and even worse for a particularly short Cazenax like Zast. There was simply not getting around it, he couldn't touch the ground and keep his head above water. So instead, he was swimming around the deliciously swampy and rancid water in a bright yellow inflatable pool ring with a rubber ducky head. The under side of it was blackened in the filthy water.

With purpose, Zast made his way to the site of rotted plant matter where the smell would dissuade lesser men. The place had a good feeling about it and the cowards must not have looked in this area yet.

A foul mass of decomposed organic matter accumulated like a large pile of very juicy garbage in the middle of a Virangish Dorrad. If it weren't for Zast's unique characteristics as a walking little piece of trash himself, he would have to fight off the odours and instinct to avoid such wretched air.

Interestingly, there were multitudes of openings in this nine-foot-tall structure. A hole on its surface, so inviting and dank. And if Zast reached out with the gift, he could sense a distinct opening in its underside too. Where they led was hard to say due to the excessive plant life muddying (literally) any sort of precise sensory.

He did pick up one thing among the magic static: Something round. Something powerful.

Zast's famed fortitude and constitution were all he needed to face the challenge of the rotted spire. Few people could follow in his wake and therefore few would have preceded him. And oh what a treasure there was, he could just about sniff it, the money, the power, it had to be his. But he did not want any hidden onlookers to know he had caught the scent so he avoided the obvious entrance in favour of diving under and swimming up through the submerged opening. Regrettably, the rubber ducky inflatable was left behind.

Under it was. Murky waters and alien plantlife did not dissuade the true. Zast found himself in a tunnel within the accumulation of decomposed matter. At this point, the reeking had gotten so bad that a normal nose would simply be deprived of the sense. It was dark, barring any light source from the Cazenax himself. Except, of course, the beacon that was the mild glint in his senses that promised a treasure like none other.

He was so close. Almost there. Its shape so round. Its green-ness palpable. No less than five days of satiation for the legend himself.

With a small conjured light to illuminate his way, Zast finally looked upon the treasure of the wretched structure. The Greedstone. He didn't know its name, but he knew what to call it by instinct. He reached his hand out to quickly snatch it.

Within his grasp, just dangling there among the detritus. Now just inches away from his palm in the mist of the most putrid of places. He could even see it. All his. Only his.

"He, he, he, they make it too easy for me."

Cawiuo Zast’s green palms cupped the perfectly spherical orb. It was warm. It was welcoming. It did not satiate anything. He wanted even more. He tugged upon it, that shining bauble that attracted another tainted soul - a wide eyed fish to the angler fish’s trap. A light snapping sound was heard to the right. And then to the left. And then all over.

Eyes. Red, mucus-covered eyes all served as audience to the cazenax’s victory. And it all writhed.



The high pitched scream of a voice they would barely recognize. As more eyes laid upon the imminently gruesome sight, they would discover it belonged to none other than Cawuio Zast. Dangling high in the hair with a thick and long vine-like appendage impaled through his abdomen. The thing stemmed from the pile he had been diving in, lured in by a stone, and now he in turn dangled as bait.

Tremendous pain was in his screams. Endless. But the auditory horror would very quickly come with a visual one: The pile of rot shifted and churned, until ripples in the water became waves that splashed onto all those within its area. Appearing first as a large, muddy lump that pushed out, they would soon see where all the organic matter had gone - where the bodies were taken.

The unholy monster of the Bog emerged with its many red eyes lined inside its multi-layered maw. A single swing of its tree-sized right arm, its only arm of such a size, prompted a second tremor that awoke its dormant appendages. It stood at the same height as its appendages, although its width was prodigious to say the least. Most of its features remained veiled by the vegetation and mud, but more and more limbs could be seen protruding from the monstrosity.

Zast flailed around helplessly, barely hanging on to life. If it hadn't been for mender, he might have died only a few seconds after the initial blow. Now his blood type only served to prolong an inevitable fate. A steady and unnaturally plentiful stream of coins rained down from his coat as he was flung every which way in the air. Every coin that dropped coated in the wretched blood of the Cazenax.

But Zast was a gambler. He had been in worse situations before and come out fine. He had a plan.

Reaching for his flintlock, he unlatched it from his belt, tried to take aim, and missed his shot.

"Help me! First one to kill this thing will be rich beyond their wildest dreeeaaaaa..." His final word was cut off as the creature flailed him once more.

Before Edyta lay Cawuio-Zast, begging for help and mercy; begging, effectively, for Edyta Laska to risk her own death in order to save him. While that was not something she feared, she also honoured life, and it had been this vile little goblin's own greed that had gotten him into such a situation. Choice comes from Mother Dami, she reminded herself, just as judgements come from Father Dami.

She was just above him, hovering in the air on a gravity loop. This was an alarming place and she had no wish to touch down. Consequences are Mother Eshiran's to hand out, though.

Sister Laska looked upon him not-unsympathetically. "And what, pray tell," she asked with a soft coldness, "shall you give to Mother Eshiran for not taking you up in her embrace?"

On account of being thrashed around by a gigantic swamp monster, Zast's keen ability to focus was a little inhibited. Sure, he had been in similar situations before, at least five times, but none with a nun lecturing at him calmly from about.

"What the hells are ya talking about lady? I'm not dead yeeeeee..." A big swing robbed him from finishing the words. "Cut this damn vine already." The Cazenax was beginning to cough up blood. With a mustering of his meagre remaining strength, he weakly tossed some blood-soaked coins at Laska. It would undoubtedly stain her robes if they weren't already the perfect colour.

The coins scattered as they flew, a handful rebounding off the Rezaindian's robes of the same colour. "Hmm," she murmured, "so you do bleed red." Edyta Laska looked up and, with unsettlingly fast reflexes, snatched one of the sailing coins out of the air.

This, she flipped nimbly across her fingers, examining its bloody golden surface as the cazenax thrashed and moaned. All at once, she brought it to her lips and slid it through. Her eyes narrowed for a shadow of a second as she pulled it out. She spat, then, very much like a peasant, and made a face of distaste. "And you couldn't even pay me real gold." She shook her head. "You've placed your faith in the VOID, Cawuio-Zast. Let it save you." She turned away.

As Caiwuo-Zast’s eyes met Edyta Laska’s, he knew. She did not have to condemn him with her words, her mere aura as not Ahn-Eshira but as an envoy of the Judge sufficed. His eyes veered slightly, offering a novel experience of elevated height. A final spectacle of horror all for him. He watched as the many eyes opened behind him.





"Tommy, did I ever tell ya about my time in the Ensollian? I was under the command of a Belzaggic pirate captain, can't remember his name for the life of me but he always wore a red shirt. Funny reason for it too, but that's for another time. We made a name for ourselves raiding Revidian ships on the strait between Bozan and Medrilan. Got a lot of Magus doing that and caught ourselves a reputation in the process. In a short time, not a single Revidian could go that way without fearing a blade to their throat."

"It made for easy work Tommy. They would see our sails and give up without a fight. No merchant values gold over their own blood, ex-naval officers maybe, merchants no. It was easy work, but they started to catch on and the Revidian's slowly favoured other routes. With the work drying up, we coulda gone to those other routes but the captain had other ideas. With the Belzagg traders being plentiful in the straight, why not just steal from them? So we did. It was a slaughter Tommy, a profitable profitable slaughter."

"But the Belzaggs didn't like that one bit. They mobilized far quicker than the Revidians and they were on our tail before long. A ship weighed by endless spoils doesn't travel very fast and we knew that a battle would come by morning. That's when the captain let me know the most important words I had ever heard in this life. 'Listen boy, as long as blood spills on these waters and Magus is taken over bodies, I will never die. Merchants in this straight will always be scared of me and fear the blade I hold.' I thought he was an idiot Tommy, to this day I can't even remember his name. But he was right."

"Come morning I saw him staggering on the deck holding three blades in the torso and his right arm blown off. He smiled as he dropped to the deck and finally passed. That's when I realised that he had never died because I was him and he was me. It's hard to explain, Tommy, but you'll understand it too one day."




Magnificent Green saw them all fight for something other than themselves - for someone else. Some sacrificed a lot, others nearly died. But most got to keep the most precious thing in the world …

The red, monstrous eyes drew closer. Irregular and loud breathing sent ripples through the water.

The vine twisted and tangled deeper into the Cazenax's ribcage as he saw Laska, his final hope, reject him. The monster's appendage slowly drew him back toward its maw. Blood began pooling in Zast's throat and trickling over his body. His energy gave out, the trickle of coins tapered to a stop and he fell back with his arms slacked behind. The coat he wore slowly slipped from his shoulders and off his arms and it gently glided toward the ground. He had no weapons, he had no coat, just brown slacks and a red shirt once white.

He wondered if he regretted how he had lived, or if anything he regretted his reckless action here.

The massive external maw riddled with writhing life within opened wide, letting out a foul gust of air.

No, not really. It was never not worth it. There was no more begging. Nothing was coming for this greedy little man. A man of many riches, but with nobody who ever truly cared about him.

Cawuio-Zast began to smile a truly sickening, vile smile. He would die here randomly, absent from the eyes of judgement, absent from the eyes of those he had wronged. Anthal, along with a long line of others, would never see justice for what he had done. He danced with Lady Eshiran, he had escaped Dami's hands, now the ride had come to an end and he would die without note on the world. What a wild ride it was. In that moment, with no other motor functions, Zast began to laugh. He laughed and laughed, a gurgle of blood from his mouth. He smiled at Laska with reddened teeth as the jaws of the beast began to close around him.

A sound.

The faint tolling of a bell rang in Zast's ears. He knew that the sound had come from no earthly phenomenon. It was a simple, understated noise that told the Cazenax one thing. Something was watching, someone had judged his actions from beyond, and, wherever he was going, they would be waiting for him. The gods sat waiting to cast their sentence down upon him. The laughing stopped and his smile faded. But before he could process anything else, the jaws collapsed on him and ended his life.

CRUNCH

Cawuio-Zast's coat billowed gently to the swampy surface and floated on the water. The cazenax's epitaph would read: 'Here lies Cawuio-Zast. The man who ran from the eyes of justice so much that he forgot to build anything to be remembered by.' If only there was anyone to write it. Who would be there to shed a tear? Who would know where to go to piss on his grave? Did he ever really exist?

An unmarked tomb of filth and muck was the perfect resting place for a man such as Cawuio-Zast. His coat floating on the water was the only evidence he was ever really there.





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Hidden 4 mos ago 4 mos ago Post by Force and Fury
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Force and Fury Actually kind of mellow

Member Seen 13 hrs ago



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Q U E E N O F D I A M O N D S : A C T T W O



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After some... unexpected adventures during the day, the Queen of Mycormii attends a ball in her honour, her secret safe with Desmond, for now. Three escorts attend with her, each possessing his own agenda. First, there is the Tarlonese operative, Chad'amis'yida'thala, an enemy kept closer and a test of Tarlon's boundaries. Yet, he proves more interested in chasing Hylaenii's ladies in waiting. The second is Yvain de Berbignon, and both power and intrigue swirl about the proud Perrench royal in equal measure. Surely, he will follow up on the cryptic invitation that the young monarch received during her luncheon in the park. Finally comes Niallus Saberhagen, a stalwart Eskandishman known for his blunt speech and protective ways. Yet, when an opportunity presents itself to win the queen's favour at the risk of inciting a diplomatic row, it is up to him to navigate it!




After a night of unforgettable fun, the visiting young monarch finds herself prodded and pampered by her chief advisor, Siimond, and straining at her leash. Endeavouring to be involved in everything herself, she manages to extract his blessing to attend an Eskandish-style festivity planned by Ingrid, along with the rough Ethnishman Tommy and the child prodigy Rikard. While her ladies scatter to the winds once they reach the festival, Tommy joins a religiously-inspired fighting tournament, and Rikard stands to potentially lose his (already dubious) innocence, a question from Ingrid leads her, the queen, and old Siimond on a journey through the past where they uncover a beautiful and possibly tragic love story, written by the hands of artists who lived long ago. Less expected is the deep personal connection that makes itself felt.



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Hidden 4 mos ago Post by BlackRoseSiren
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BlackRoseSiren

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A Romantic Evening





The ball was about to start, Sven was waiting patiently for Esmii to arrive, he was dressed in smart clothes that he had for special occasions, however it had been a long time since he had to wear an outfit like this. Esmii had been invited by Hylaenii, the Queen of Mycromi, and he wanted to look his best for this. His attention went off in a direction, it was Esmii. Esmii on noticing Sven, quickly began to rush to him, as she shouted, to get his attention. "Sven, my love, I’m here."

Esmii was dressed in a beautiful and elegant dress, it had a more human look to it but with its pretty colours mixed with a floral design that comes from the trim to her hips. It was a modified design of what her mother wore once. She had a silver pendant that was given to her by her older sister on her last birthday. And her hair was braided down the side of her body, resting on her shoulder, with a silver butterfly hair pin that was gifted to her by her new friend Lunara. Esmii stopped in front of Sven, giving him a twirl so he could see it from all angles.

"What do you think?" she said with a smile, waiting in anticipation for his response. However the only word that Sven was able to say was, ”Wow…” His mouth was partly open as he stared, enchanted by Esmii's beauty in her dress. Esmii on noticing his look, blushed and let out a little giggle, she then placed her index finger on his jaw, and closed his mouth. "I take it that you love it." She teased him, and Sven couldn't take his eyes off her, the only thing he managed was a nod. Suddenly he realised where they were and regained his composure. He gently took hold of her hand, slowly lifted it to his mouth and kissed it. ”Shall we go, my Shweet.” He then held his arm out for her to link to him. Esmii placed her hand on his arm and answered. "Yes, my love, we should be heading in." They began to walk into the hall, where the ball was taking place.

As they arrived at the main entrance of the ball. There were quite a few couples standing in line waiting to get in. "Oh no, at this rate, we're going to be late." all small frown appeared on her face when she spoke. She turned on her heel with Sven swinging around to face in the opposite direction, getting ready to queue. “You two, stop.”A voice shouted to Esmii and Sven. The Yasoi and her Eskandr boyfriend turned back around to see who was calling them. It was a guard, ”Shomething wrong?” Sven asked the guard. The guard shook his head before speaking. “No, nothing.” His gaze went to Esmii. “You're Miss, Tawaar, correct?” He asked. Esmii nodded in response, curious on what this was about. “I have been waiting for you to arrive. I was given orders by Queen Hylaenii to escort you to the ball. Please follow me and you'll be let in.” The guard turned on his heel, walking towards the crowd, with Esmii and Sven behind him. “Make way, they have been invited by the Queen. Make way.” The guard bellowed, the citizens who were waiting their turn, parted, giving Esmii and Sven a straight and clear path to the entrance of the ball. As the couple got closer and closer, Esmii couldn't contain her excitement, letting out a little girly squeal, and her grip on Svens arm got tighter.

Inside the ball there were a lot of people, all finely dressed, converging in conversations with one another. There were a lot of fine, expensive decorations, and a few people that Esmii could see stood at the apex of a stairwell. The Crier, upon seeing them enter the room, cleared his throat before announcing that they had arrived. “Please welcome Esmii’Nesta’Tawaar accompanied by Jarl Sven Bjørnsson.” Esmii placed her hand on Sven's arm as she walked, she glanced around taking in all of the beautiful sights, smells, people, and music. It was amazing to her, as she had never seen anything like this before. "I'll never forget this moment." she stated as tears started to form in her eyes. Then she felt a finger gently wipe the tears from her eyes. It wasn't hers, it was Svens. ”I won't forget thish moment too.”

He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. Esmii let out a little giggle, in response. As Sven pulled away, she wrapped her arms around his head pulling him closer, her soft lips pressed against his, Svens arms cradled her frame, his hands resting on her hips. As their lips parted she whispered. "I love you."
”And I you.” He responded, moving his head forward wanting to kiss her again. On noticing what he wanted, Esmii moved herself to meet his lips to continue their passionate kiss. During this tender moment Esmii felt his hands gently squeeze her rear. Esmii cheeks went bright red and she whispered, "Later Sven." She gave him a smirk and winked, while she moved his hands back to her hips.

With a mischievous smile he grabbed one of Esmii's hands, and took her to the dance floor. Esmii asked in surprise."Sven, where are you leading me?" Sven glanced back at her with his mischievous smile, which he knew she loved, he then quickly answered ”To the dancefloor.” He then stopped, and looked into her big, round, emerald eyes, and began to lead the dance, moving her body in motion to the rhythm of the music that was around them.

At first Esmii wasn't sure what to make of this, they had never danced like this in such a public place, however it seemed that her tension faded with each passing second, as she knew that she was with Sven. Esmii placed a hand on his shoulder as they danced, her eyes not breaking contact with his. To them this was pure bliss, being together like this was a moment of pure happiness for them. Esmii then placed a hand on his neck, and slowly brought his head down to kiss him. The kiss they shared was soft and enchanting, with neither one breaking away.

Throughout the night the lovely couple spend their time dancing, socialising with others. Even spotting their good friend Niallus having a great time dancing with the queen of Mycromii. Both wondered how long it would be before he would be bold enough to try to bed the queen. With the night upon them and the ball coming to an end both the Yasoi and the Eskandr had a bit too much to drink, so they decided to leave for his place. Upon arriving at his place, they wasted little time, giving in to their intimate desire for one another, their clothes discarded with haste.
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