Aurora Halliwell

Eye of The Beholder

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After savouring the lovely conversation she had with Daphne, Aurora stood, with a warm smile reflecting the joy of the moment. She was entranced by the performance unfolding before her—a dazzling display of music and movement that seemed to wrap the room in a magical embrace. Suddenly, her reverie was shattered by the abrupt entry of a guard, who burst through the ornate doors, his face taut with urgency. The flickering candlelight caught the wild look in his eyes as he swept his gaze across the crowd, searching desperately.

The atmosphere shifted palpably, anxiety hanging in the air like a thick fog. "We need a healer! Now!" the guard's voice boomed, rising above the melodic strains of the music, slicing through the festive air like a knife.

Aurora’s heart raced in response to his urgent call. Recognizing the gravity of the situation, she instinctively raised her hand, urgency flickering across her features as she navigated deftly through the throng of spectators, her focus unwavering. “I can help you! I am a healer!” she declared, her voice clear and resolute, a beacon of hope cutting through the chaos.

As she drew closer to the guard, a surge of determination surged within her. “Please, take me to the person who needs assistance,” she implored, her tone steady and commanding despite the whirlwind of commotion around her. Without a moment’s hesitation, the guard turned sharply on his heel and sprinted back through the doors, with Aurora trailing closely behind.

Stepping outside into the dimming twilight, the cool evening air rushed to greet them. Aurora squinted as her eyes adjusted to the gloom, following the guard to a man lying crumpled on the cold cobblestones, his condition alarming and distressing. He was pale, the pallor of his skin stark against the darkening ground, and the pain was etched across his features like a grimace of agony as if he were engaged in a fierce battle with an unseen adversary.

Without a moment's pause, Aurora sank to her knees beside him, the fabric of her gown pooling around her. "Just breathe," she murmured, gently urging him to lie back, concern etched on her face. Her hands moved with practised grace, a healer's instinct guiding her as she began her examination, her brow furrowing in concentration. Each pulse that raced through his body felt like a quiet song of struggle, and Aurora’s heart ached to mend what was broken.

“Can you or anyone here tell me what has happened?” she asked, her voice soothing yet firm, cutting through the noise as she directed her attention to the man. ” Can you tell me exactly where you are feeling pain?" Aurora's focus was unwavering as she concentrated on the ailing man before her, her world narrowing to the urgent task at hand. Just then, a flicker of movement caught her eye, and she glanced up to see the princess standing nearby, her regal presence stark against the backdrop of chaos, watching intently with wide, concerned eyes.

Amidst the healing efforts and questions racing through her mind, Aurora felt a singular clarity: this man's well-being was her paramount concern, and she was determined to do everything in her power to help him heal.

@c3p-0h

@Qia@c3p-0h

Vellion Hurst

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Outside Eye of the Beholder.

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Vellion cursed inwardly at himself, for his series of sloppy mistakes. He took the aid offered by the silver haired woman and sat up, hurriedly pulling his pant leg down over the injury. He saw her properly for the first time.

The kindness and compassion in her eyes, in her voice and in her actions was like a warm fur blanket wrapping around him in a blizzard. It was that strong drop of ale that warmed you from the inside. It was the glow of a morning sunrise after a long cold night. And he rejected it.
Such things were no longer for the likes of him. He didn't deserve it. So he mistakenly redirected his self loathing and snapped at her. Stern cold words and a dismissively flicking hand as he pushed away what he really wanted.

"I am fine, now get off me. What would you know anyway."

The question was rhetorical and he deliberately tinted his tone with a touch of disdain.... Why was he like this. but it didn't matter, it was done. Time and fate only swam in one direction, to try undo or fight with either would be like, well, he couldn't think of an appropriate difficult analogy right now as he found himself looking up at that slightly familiar face. She wore a half smile coupled with concern as she tried to make light of the situation.

“I assure you, the feast was not so important that you needed to risk further injury to yourself to attend.”

Releasing his expressions from his blight-born abilities Vellion gave her a warm and slightly playful grin. His voice ever smooth and full of confidence with a touch of reckless charming arrogance.
"Perhaps not a feast of food my lady, but I would gladly drag myself twice as far, with injuries twice as bad, through blight infested lands just to feast my eyes upon someone half as radiant as you."

While he spoke his dark eyes locked themselves to hers, he searched those glimmering pools for a hint of secrets unspoken, true thoughts not shared. He had barely any reserves of mana left so he could not push it, but merely sought anything in them freely shared.

His senses had told him of the guards moving in and going about, but he hadn't paid it any attention or concern, nor had he noticed the way they hung on this woman's every action.
With his ankle out of sight he carefully touched it up a little bit. He couldn't go so far as to mend it completely but had to find a delicate balance between what they saw and an injury of only slight concern. As he slowly worked, he felt a pain grow in his ribs. But that was ok, no one would see that part of him.


"Just breathe," the words came from beside him as someone knelt down. Oh no. he thought to himself as a slight panic swelled within him.

“Can you or anyone here tell me what has happened?” ” Can you tell me exactly where you are feeling pain?"

This was bad. This was very bad. He didn't want people to know what he had become, what he was, or what he had done. Where did he feel pain? The easier question would be where didn't he feel pain. The constant accompanying ache had become a friend. More familiar than a shadow in the time of sunlight.

"I'm, I'm fine." he blurted out, turning to the newcomer as he tried to shuffle away. Recoiling like she brought him a disease.
"It's just an old wild dog bite. Nothing a bandage and rest won't solve. Please. Don't allow me to take up anymore of your time. It's my own foolish fault for wondering in the dark alone anyway."

He adds a little reassuring chuckle to his words and a soft grin. But his eyes offer the healer an insistent stare, silently battling her fierce determination.

Location: Eye of the Beholder | Collaboration with @The Muse

---

Eris carefully folded up her notes, tucking them neatly into her coat pocket before glancing at Flynn, who remained seated. He had asked for a moment to process the news, and she didn’t blame him. What she had told him was monumental—the first discovery of its kind and, more importantly, it held a sliver of hope for the Prince’s fate. It was pure excitement for her, but for him, it meant something greater.

Meeting Flynn’s gaze, she offered an empathetic smile before exiting the back room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. As she turned down a hallway, the sound of lively music and the happy buzz of people steadily grew louder. A smile tugged at her lips, and she allowed herself to soak in the warmth and energy of the place. It had been too long since she had heard the sounds of celebration.

As she stepped into the common room, she paused, her attention drawn to the bard who had taken control of the room. To her surprise, it was a blight-born playing the violin, and for a brief moment, it caught her off guard. She quickly chastised herself—why wouldn't a blight-born be able to play? They had once been human, after all. From a nearby corner, she heard someone call his name—Aldrick Corveaux. The name struck a chord; she had heard it before, though she'd never seen him in person. Despite all the changes he had to endure, she was glad to see that his talent had remained intact.

Suddenly hearing a voice beside her, Eris jumped slightly, her body instinctively tensing. She quickly turned to see a tall brunette in Lunarian armor. A soft laugh escaped her, mostly at her own startled reaction, and she offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn’t notice you there!" she said, trying to shake off the surprise.

As Daphne spoke, Eris’ lighthearted smile slowly turned into a frown. "I’ll make sure to check in on her soon, though I'm not sure when she'll be back."

The reminder of Sya's new tail sent a shiver down her spine, but a pang of guilt settled in her chest at the mention of Sya leaving upset. Had that been her fault? It was hard to wrap her head around the idea that Sya could change like that—not just once, but apparently twice? It felt so bizarre, but she realized she’d have to look into it further. It was her job, after all. Still, the thought of investigating further made her stomach twist. Why did Sya’s change have to be snake-like? She’d have to suck it up and confront her fears eventually, but… not now.

"It's nice to meet you, Daphne. I’m Eris." she introduced herself, trying to keep her tone light. "Unfortunately, I have someone waiting for me, so… I’ll see you around.” With a reassuring nod, she excused herself.

Searching the room, she quickly spotted Nathaniel still at the booth where she’d left him. The waitress had just stepped away, and Eris slid back into the seat across from him, her excitement barely contained. The news she was holding felt like it was too big for her body, like it might burst out if she didn’t share it with someone who would truly understand.

“You came to town at the perfect time,” she said, her face practically glowing with joy. “The Prince is going to put together a crew to head into the blight lands to test my discovery—and you’ll get to come with me.” She took a sip of water, letting the weight of her words sink in, her eyes carefully watching to gauge his reaction.

The thought of leading an expedition to test her findings was thrilling—and absolutely terrifying. It had been so long since she’d ventured beyond the safety of Dawnhaven's walls. Hell, she had barely left the Alchemy Chambers.

Nathaniel's attention was drawn away from the lively music filling the tavern to Eris, who had returned to sit with him. She appeared to be filled with a mix of joy and fear as she mentioned that he had arrived at the right time. With raised eyebrows and an intrigued expression, Nathaniel took a sip of his mead before responding, ”An Expedition. Into the Blightlands." He said with a hint of curiosity. From looking at her expression. There was joy but also nervousness. It was evident that Eris sought his company to help keep her at ease. Otherwise, it would be unique to ask an almost stranger to a dangerous place.

”I'd love to be a part of this expedition. Do you know when it will take place?" he said to her without giving it much thought.

Eris shook her head at his question, “Not yet. I’m sure we’ll hear from the Prince about it soon.” she said as she pulled out her notes, spreading them on the table top. The music and chatter of the tavern buzzed around them, but Eris leaned in closer to make it easier for Nathaniel to hear her soft spoken voice. As Eris laid her notes on the table, Nathaniel quickly moved the beverages to prevent them from spilling on her notes.

“I’ve been working on this during the blizzard,” she began, gesturing to her scribbled notes. Over a few minutes, she explained her trials and errors over the last week, until she finally tapped on the diagram that she had shown to Flynn earlier. "This blood I studied—it reacts to light magic." she explained, “You were right, there’s something there.” she locked eyes with him from across the table, “It points to the blight like a compass. I’ve never seen anything like it.” She leaned back slightly, watching Nathaniel's reaction, eager to hear his thoughts.

With the notes laid out in front of him, Eris explained what she had been doing during the blizzard. It all made sense to him now. Her unusual appearance when he first met her. She was performing research throughout the week. ”May I?” he asked, gently picking up a piece of parchment with her notes on it "So this is why you needed to speak to the Prince so urgently – you found something."

Looking through her notes, Nathaniel noticed that they were immaculate. Most journals he had read about research on the blight were always written in broken sentences and in poor handwriting.

After putting the parchment back with the others, he followed where she pointed. As she continued speaking, he heard her say that he was right about his theory. Their eyes locked as he listened to her every word. ”Interesting. This is a big discovery,” he remarked. More ideas flooded his mind regarding why the blood acted like a compass. "Perhaps since we haven't had real sunlight in such a long time, that's probably why the blight blood acted this way. I have a couple more theories as to why." he mused with a smile. This was amazing progress.

”Hopefully, this expedition bears some fruit,” he softly spoke to her, pushing the spare tankard of mead to her. ” A discovery like this deserves celebration, no?”

Eris glanced at the tankard, her fingers lightly brushing the cool metal handle in thought. She couldn’t help but wonder what time of day it was—it couldn’t have been more than 10am, could it? It was so hard to tell time these days. Shifting her gaze toward a nearby window, all she saw was the soft, flickering glow of torches surrounding the inn and the gentle fall of snowflakes. Time had become elusive in this eternal darkness—morning no longer felt the same. The thought almost felt laughable now.

Her eyes drifted across the tavern, and she noted that others were already partaking in alcohol, as if it were natural to drink at this hour. She glanced back to Nathaniel, realizing he had likely been doing the same. She bit her lip to suppress a smile, then looked back at the mead. ’Why not?’ He was right—this discovery was worth celebrating, even if it meant day drinking. It had been too long since she let herself indulge in such a way. ‘If not now, when?’

With a small, amused smile, she picked up the tankard and took a cautious sip, immediately scrunching her nose at the bitter taste. She couldn’t help but laugh at her own reaction. “How do people actually think this tastes good?” she teased, but nevertheless, she took another sip, pushing past the bitterness. “Maybe it gets better with each drink?” she added with a giggle and a playful grin, feeling the warmth of the moment start to wash over her.

Nathaniel let out a light chuckle at her comment about the first sip from her tankard. “Sometimes it's based on the person who is drinking it,” he said with another small laugh as she mentioned that it took time to appreciate the drink. After that, he took a sip of his drink.

Her attention shifted toward the blight-born bard, Aldrick, who was still captivating the room with his music. She bopped her head in time with the music for a few moments before turning back to Nathaniel. “Have you ever seen Aldrick play in person before?” she asked, leaning in just a bit.

Listening to the blight-blorn bard's captivating melody, the entire tavern erupted in dancing and singing. Even Nathaniel found himself caught up in the rhythm, moving his head with the music and tapping his finger on the table to keep time. He caught a glimpse of Eris, her body swaying gently to the tune. When their eyes met, Nathaniel offered her a warm smile and responded to her question.

”No, this is the first time I've seen him in person,” he replied, turning his attention back to the bard, who was becoming harder to see as nearly all the patrons were dancing and cheering. "I almost met him at a noble party, but I didn't go." He paused, trying to recall which noble party it had been.

"I can't remember which one it was,” he said, a smile spreading across his face as a loud cheer erupted— the bard was about to play one of his famous songs. As the music began, some of the crowd sang along, their voices more enthusiastic than in tune with the violin's sound, adding to the fun. "Have you seen him live before?” he asked her.

Eris shook her head, "No, I’ve never seen him play live before either," she admitted, "I've only heard stories about his talent. It’s amazing to finally witness it for myself!" The music wrapped around her, and she couldn't help but sway a little in her seat, caught up in the moment.

The music was becoming infectious as people from other booths around began to leave their seats and started to dance and cheer with each other around the bard. Feeling a bit bold and daring, Nathaniel stepped out from the booth and walked around the table to Eris' side. Once there, he bowed gracefully, extending his hand to her ”Would you care to dance with me, Eris?” he said with a warm smile. "You can hardly contain yourself sitting in that booth, so how about we dance for a little while for fun?"

Eris felt a flutter of nervousness as Nathaniel extended his hand, the warmth of his smile igniting something within her that she didn’t quite recognize. For a brief moment, she hesitated, her mind racing. Memories of her mother’s extravagant parties flooded her mind. She had been trained in the art of dance, of course, but she rarely enjoyed it. Instead, she often escaped to her room in secret, choosing the company of books or the pursuit of her magic over the party. Her brother had always been the one to shine in those social settings, captivating everyone with his charisma while she lingered in the background, unsure of herself.

The infectious energy of the tavern, the laughter, and the music brought her back to present time, beckoning her to join. Taking a deep breath, she took a large sip of the mead for courage, and met Nathaniel’s eyes. “Well, I suppose a little fun wouldn’t hurt.” she said, a playful smile spreading across her face as she removed the fiery coat that Ashe had given her and laid on the seat back.

Placing her hand in his, she felt a rush of excitement as she stood up from the booth and stepped out onto the dance floor beside him. As they began to move with the rhythm, Eris felt a weight slowly beginning to lift off her shoulders. This was what she had been missing—a moment of pure joy and spontaneity. Perhaps this time, she could allow herself to embrace it.

With her hand nestled warmly in his, Nathaniel felt the gentle touch of her soft palm and delicate fingers against his. Each step they took together toward the dance floor felt deliberate, almost sacred. The quiet intimacy they had shared in the booth began to dissolve into the background as he recalled his last dance—just before he left his family home in Aurelia. That farewell gathering, orchestrated by his mother, had been an extravagant affair filled with nobles, many of whom had brought their daughters, eager for a fleeting connection. They were unsuccessful in their attempts.

As they arrived on the dance floor, Nathaniel raised his hand above Eris's head, inviting her to twirl. She spun gracefully, her dress swirling around her like a blooming flower. He felt an irresistible urge to pull her closer, their bodies naturally aligning as he guided her into a fluid stance. With his left hand cradling her right, his right rested confidently on the curve of her waist. The elegance of her slightly askew dress whispered of nobility, catching the light with every subtle movement.

Eris felt a rush of warmth as Nathaniel’s hand rested on her waist, making her suddenly hyper-aware of everything that was imperfect about her. Her hair wasn’t styled, the edges of her dress were still damp from falling in the snow, and she was sure the exhaustion of the past week was most likely still reflecting on her face. This wasn’t how she’d been trained on how to present herself in front of strangers, especially fellow nobility. Her mother would’ve forcefully removed her from the tavern if she could’ve seen.

Lost in her thoughts, she missed a step and stumbled slightly, her foot catching awkwardly against his. Her cheeks flushed as she glanced up at Nathaniel, embarrassed. But his hand remained steady on her waist, guiding her with confidence, and she quickly found her footing again, easing back into the rhythm. Despite her inner worries, Nathaniel seemed unbothered, his focus entirely on their dance. His calm, reassuring presence helped ease the tension, and she allowed herself to settle into the moment. Clearly, he was more experienced in this sort of thing than she was.

As they began to sway to the rhythm of the music, Nathaniel leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. You'll be okay,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes once more. This shared gaze held an unspoken warmth as if the rest of the world had dissolved into a gentle blur around them.

When Nathaniel leaned in, Eris felt a sudden, unexpected tingling sensation ripple through her, sending warm shivers down her spine. She blinked up at him, her heart skipping a beat as their eyes locked. His quiet murmur making butterflies flutter wildly in her stomach. A blush deepened on her cheeks, but she managed a small smile, nodding in response.

It had been such a long time since she had let any man this close to her, the realization struck her. How strange it was to share an intimate moment with someone she had only just met. And yet, it felt more natural than all those forced dances at the lavish parties of her youth.

As Nathaniel guided her, his touch gentle but reassuring, the initial nervousness began to fade. Her steps became lighter, more graceful, and her mind quieted as she followed his lead. She wasn’t thinking about the imperfections anymore, nor the uncertainty of why she had allowed herself to share this moment with him. All that mattered now was the moment.

A smile of pure happiness danced across Nathaniel’s lips, buoyed by the joy of their connection. He had expected her to be a skilled dancer, given her noble upbringing, and she did not disappoint. They twirled and glided effortlessly. Time felt as it was slowing down, the music becoming a backdrop to their shared moment.

As he spun her under the dim, flickering lights, Nathaniel noticed a few patrons watching with interest, their curiosity piqued. “It seems we have some observers,” he remarked, a playful grin spreading across his face as they continued to dance together.

For a while, Eris was entirely lost in their dance. The gentle sway of their movements, the rhythm of the music, and the feeling of being so close to someone—she hadn’t realized how much she had missed moments like this. It was freeing, almost dreamlike, until Nathaniel's voice broke through.

Her heart skipped as she glanced around, noticing a few patrons watching them.The sudden awareness made her feel self-conscious again. For a moment, she wondered if it was right for the lead sage of Dawnhaven to be enjoying herself so openly, in a tavern of all places. Shouldn’t she be back in the Alchemy Chambers, preparing for the expedition or continuing her research? What if people judged her for this? What if she was seen as unprofessional, letting herself get too caught up in the moment?

Something in the back of her mind warned that this was wrong, that she should cut it short and return to her notes, to the familiar world of research and study where she felt safe. But something else inside her, something deeper, urged her to stay. This didn’t feel wrong, even though her mind tried to convince her otherwise.

Taking a deep breath, Eris allowed herself to sink back into Nathaniel’s embrace, her body relaxing into the rhythm of the dance once more. What did it matter if people were watching? She would deal with any consequences later. With a small, defiant smile, she returned her focus to Nathaniel, willing herself to be fully present with him.

After some time, Nathaniel tenderly moved his hand from her waist to cradle her cheek, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “There we go.” he added, ”I’m glad I got to meet you outside of our parents' arrangements. Here is to good times together.” his gaze locked onto hers, a promise of more to come between them. Even if the start was a bit shaky and embarrassing it seemed the duo had gotten over it.

Feeling Nathaniel’s touch against her face, Eris felt another flurry of butterflies in her stomach all over again, a tingling sensation left from where his hands touched her skin. The way his gaze locked onto hers made her heart beat faster.

“I’m glad I got to meet you too…” She replied softly, almost breathless, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the dancing or from whatever it was that Nathaniel was making her feel.

The music was beginning to fade as the bard prepared to move on to the next song, but all Eris could focus on was Nathaniel—his deep green eyes, his dark hair, and the curve of his lips…

But then, a sudden shout abruptly shattered the moment when someone from across the tavern yelled out to announce a puppet show. Eris tensed, her body instinctively pulling back from Nathaniel as she turned to see who had interrupted the music. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted the blonde man she had mistaken for the Prince earlier, his loud voice commanding the attention of the room.

She briefly glanced at Nathaniel, confusion in her eyes, before she returned her attention to the front of the tavern. Without a word, she stood beside him to watch the show that was about to begin. The carefree warmth of their dance was quickly replaced with a growing sense of unease as the blonde man began to tell his tale, and Eris couldn’t help but feel that something strange was about to unfold.

After being broken from that hypothetical musical moment he was having with his dance partner. His attention followed the same direction as everyone else's. A blonde young man was standing at the front. He seemed to have caught the attention of quite a few. That was fun while it lasted.

He thought as if wanting to have that spur-of-the-moment still going. There was no way it could be replicated, it felt too natural. Like they had known each other all their life.

Nathaniel's gaze shifted back to Eris, the fatigue that she once had beforehand was beginning to show once more. He took hold of her hand, his fingers interlocking with hers. "Let's sit back in the booth. We can watch the show from there.” He suggested it to her.

Eris felt a jolt of surprise as Nathaniel intertwined his fingers with hers. Yet she didn't resist, allowing herself to be led back to the booth, her heart fluttering slightly.

Once back at the booth, Eris' coat that she had taken off was still there. Nathaniel let Eris sit down into the booth, instead of sitting opposite her like they were before. He sat next to her. There was enough room for them to see the puppet show as it began to unfold.

Seated, Eris couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of her eye, trying to process the way he had effortlessly shifted the atmosphere between them. As Nathaniel settled beside her, a flutter of nervousness danced in her stomach, and she silently cursed herself for feeling it at all. What was going on?! This wasn’t like her. It had to be the lack of sleep… right?

As the blonde man began to speak theatrically, Eris turned her full attention on him, curious to hear how the story would end. The tale itself was unfamiliar to her, even with all her years of studying history or folklore, which was odd. Nonetheless, he was undoubtedly a skilled storyteller. Not only the children were captivated by him.

With a dramatic flourish, the man called out to the Prince to join him on stage, which caused Eris to raise a brow. She hadn’t noticed Flynn enter the room, but as she followed the gaze of the blonde man, she spotted him. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she watched the Prince, wondering if he would play along. She could imagine him trying to maintain his composure while navigating this stranger's antics, and she found herself hoping he’d embrace the spontaneity of the moment like she had.

---

Mentions: Aldrick@SpicyMeatball, Gadez @Dezuel, Daphne@PrinceAlexus

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Flynn forced a warm smile as Eris gathered up her notes, her enthusiasm still palpable as she turned to leave. She paused at the door and gave him an encouraging smile. He gave her a reassuring nod, but once the door closed behind her, the silence in the room felt heavy. He slumped into his chair, letting out a long, exhausted breath.

The weight of everything was crashing down on him—the discovery, the possibility that they could track the blight, the hope that maybe, just maybe, he and Amaya weren’t completely doomed to the prophecy’s fate. It was a flicker of light in what had seemed like a dark dead end.

But even as that hope flickered, his mind kept drifting back, irresistibly, to Nyla. She was here.

His heart ached with the thought, a hollow pain that echoed in his chest. The music from the common room grew louder, laughter and voices blending together in celebration, but all he could focus on was the woman who had haunted his dreams for the last two months. He had never expected to see her again, least of all here, in Dawnhaven.

Why now? Why her? And what was he supposed to do?

He knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t just sit here. He was bound to Amaya, by oath and duty, but Nyla’s presence brought everything to the surface again. He had to find out why she was here. He had to talk to her. Whatever turmoil her presence was stirring, he couldn’t ignore it. He needed answers.

With a deep breath, Flynn pushed himself out of the chair, finding the willpower to rise despite the exhaustion settling deep into his bones. His legs felt unsteady as he crossed the room, but his determination kept him moving. As he approached the front of the tavern, the music slowly began to fade and he expected that the bard would begin playing another song soon enough. He was glad someone had taken it upon themselves to entertain the masses and lift their spirits.

As Flynn stepped back into the common room, his eyes immediately scanned the crowd, searching for her. His heart hammered in his chest, and within moments, he found her—exactly where she had been before. Nyla.

She looked up, and their eyes met across the room.

Just as he took a step in her direction, a voice rang out, taking advantage of the break in song, demanding the room's attention.

"Ladies, gentlemen, children of any ages, the first act of the puppetry show shall begin shortly within the Eye of the Beholder!”

Flynn paused, his gaze catching the blonde man as he made a theatrical announcement for a puppet show—the same unsettling figure who had blocked his and Amaya's path home before the blizzard, and the same he had seen with Nyla earlier. Flynn raised a brow, eyeing the man curiously. He had never gotten the man's name, but he gave off the same eerie vibe as before, his presence prickling the edges of Flynn’s instincts. He had never been against bards, but something about this man set him on edge.

Flynn was about to brush it off, refocusing on Nyla, but the beginning of the tale grabbed his attention, pulling him into a story about a Prince with an eerily similar name to his father - King Auric. Reluctantly, Flynn shifted his attention to the small stage, his brow furrowing as the story unfolded.

As the story went on, Flynn crossed his arms over his chest as a growing discomfort settled in. This was no ordinary story. The man was telling a thinly veiled, fictionalized version of Flynn’s life—and his father’s.

The details, at first, seemed harmless—another story about royalty, kingdoms, and secrets. But as the tale unfolded, Flynn couldn’t help but notice the similarities. And then it became personal—too personal. Gadez’s words danced dangerously close to his own life, and even Amaya’s.

The mention of the fictional Prince—the King—with a secret child caused annoyance to rise in his chest. Was this stranger implying that his father, King Auric Astaros, had sired a child out of wedlock? Flynn’s jaw tightened. How dare this man spin such tales about his family? If his father had been here, he would have had this man reprimanded for such slander. But Flynn was not his father—he had to handle things more carefully.

As Gadez’s voice rang out, calling him on stage, Flynn felt every pair of eyes in the tavern suddenly turn toward him. He tried to keep his expression calm, relaxing his face as best he could. The children began cheering for him to join the act, their innocent excitement impossible to ignore. At first, Flynn shook his head, raising his arms in protest. He had no desire to be a part of this absurd charade.

But soon enough, even the adults—emboldened by mead and music—began joining in, encouraging him with playful cheers. The energy in the room shifted, and Flynn realized he couldn’t just walk away.

Feeling the weight of their expectations, he sighed heavily. He couldn’t let them down, not when morale was already so fragile in these dark times. He was their leader, and sometimes that meant doing things he wasn’t comfortable with. Reluctantly, he weaved through the crowd, making his way to the stage.

As he approached Gadez, the tension in his chest grew. Standing beside the puppeteer, Flynn felt like a child again—paraded around by his mother for show, expected to perform for the sake of appearances. His neutral expression belied the nerves swirling inside him, but he refused to let them show.

Meeting Gadez’s pale blue eyes, Flynn leaned slightly toward him, his voice low but controlled. "What exactly is this about?" Flynn asked, keeping his tone even. What game was this man trying to play?

"That's the spirit, that's our brave prince, not dreading any challenge!" Gadez spoke out to the crowd as Flynn made his way up.

The blue-eyed man mused and then softly replied to Flynn as he had leaned in. "A tale of the past and possible futures, Red Star. Let's see how you can handle the pebbles along the way…" He smiled and backed away in a butler-like manner, before reaching up his hand.

"So tell us, oh brave Prince Ruddy! Are humans and those who have taken the extra step to become something more all equal in your kingdom? For what else could this place be than just that? It is the people which makes a place a home, and it is people which makes a king a king. Are you prepared to defend your small kingdom against any seeking to cause it harm?" The blue-eyed monk turned jester asked aloud, as he began to wander across the stage back and forth.

As Gadez paced, Flynn watched him carefully, listening to the ongoing monologue. Though the man had posed several questions, it became clear that he wasn’t expecting Flynn to answer—he swiftly shifted from one point to the next with barely a breath in between. A subtle prickle of irritation rose when Gadez referred to Dawnhaven as Flynn’s “kingdom." That was a claim he didn’t dare make. The Lunaris King would never stand for it for such an insinuation. Dawnhaven wasn’t Flynn’s kingdom; it was a project, a mission to bring people together. But that didn’t make him a King.

Gadez’s odd references—“Red Star”, “Prince Ruddy”—left Flynn baffled, but he did his best to keep his expression neutral. He wasn’t about to let a stranger visibly rattle him in front of half the town. Despite this man’s manic state, the crowd seemed to eat up every word he uttered, their eyes bright with enthusiasm. Flynn’s mind whirled as he tried to make sense of what was happening, and briefly, he wondered where Orion was should he need to apprehend this unnerving individual.

"Let me tell you, Prince Ruddy. The cure you seek for the ones whose changed their form is already here! Within all of us. It is called acceptance. For there is no other cure for death, but accepting that all things one day will go down that path. But do not worry children, death isn't the end, it is just another transition, another door we all must open. Perhaps all you've ever wished for lies behind that door? We ought not to hurry towards it however, just letting it greet us like an old friend when the time finally comes.”

Amidst the theatrics, there was one thing Flynn found himself agreeing with: the value of acceptance. Pride welled up in him as he reflected on what Dawnhaven had become—a place he had built to foster equality, where humans and blight-born, Lunarians and Aurelians, could coexist safely.

Then, a strange thought slipped into his mind, almost like a whisper. Amaya is beautiful. the thought seemed to pulse. The memory of her striking eyes, a sharp contrast to her dark hair, flashed in his mind as he recalled whispering in her ear, trying to soothe her.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar thought, he agreed with it, but it felt strange and intrusive. Why now? In the middle of all this chaos, why was he suddenly thinking of her beauty? And why did it feel as if the thought wasn’t entirely his own? If he were not so overwhelmed at the time, he might have recognized it for what it was—Psychic magic being forced upon him—but for now, he brushed the distraction aside, believing it might’ve been his own guilty conscience.

“And to have people close to you is an important thing! Especially for a prince! But what Prince can go at it alone? He needs a Princess! And thankfully we have that here! No, no. Not you two. You are special guest-princesses." Gadez motioned to the two children by the stage. “And an honorary prince." He pointed at the boy.

"But we need someone a bit older! Someone like- Ah! There we have her!" Gadez proclaimed and pointed straight at Nyla. "Come up, come up, upon the stage of history and destiny!" The blue eyed man began to clap his hands to try to get the crowd to urge Nyla to get up on it.

"Come up here, princess Maise. Come and join your prince of dreams, the Red Star himself." He said in an enthusiastic voice, trying to get a rise out of the crowd.

When Gadez motioned to Nyla, Flynn’s heart sped up as he locked eyes with her from across the room. He saw the hesitation on her face, the light flush rising on her cheeks as the crowd urged her to come forward.

Nyla’s pulse quickened as Gadez pointed straight at her, the word “Princess” hanging in the air like a bad joke. Her? Up there, on stage with Flynn? The sudden attention made her feel like the walls of the tavern were closing in. She quickly glanced around the room, half-expecting to see the real Princess glaring at her from the corner, offended. Surely, if she was here, it would be an insult to not allow her on stage instead. But no matter how hard she looked, there was no sign of her.

The room around her grew louder as the crowd began clapping and cheering. Every eye seemed to fall on her, urging her to step up. Her face felt flushed, warmth creeping up from her neck to her cheeks as she glanced at Flynn—already roped into this strange show—and then back at Gadez. She was no stranger to performing in front of an audience, but this was a far cry from the controlled elegance she usually commanded on stage.

Flynn glanced back at Gadez, his eyes narrowed slightly. What exactly was this man playing at? What did he know? How did he know? Why had he dragged Nyla into this spectacle, out of all people? Was this all just a coincidence? If so, then surely the Goddess was toying with him.

Swallowing her nerves, Nyla hesitated for a long moment. The pressure from the crowd built with each passing second, and, reluctantly, she gave in. Taking a deep breath, she began to make her way through the crowd, her stomach in knots. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she approached the front of the room, where Flynn and Gadez waited. When she finally reached the stage, she threw a brief glance at Flynn, feeling more out of place than ever. What in the world was happening?

"Now all here are no doubt curious, Prince Ruddy! Do you truly love the Princess?" Gadez asked, his hand outstretched towards Nyla, his palm facing upwards.

Flynn took a breath, keeping his cool exterior despite the growing tension. His patience with the man was wearing thin with every passing second.

"I believe you have me confused, sir. I'm no thespian..." He flashed a playful smile at the crowd, slipping into his charming Princely self as best as he could despite everything. “My rigid stance up here speaks for itself, I’m sure.” The crowd chuckled, agreeing with him as he attempted to lighten the mood. He did not want to engage with whatever narrative Gadez was trying to write. “I think someone else would be far more fitting for the role of Prince Ruddy.” He glanced around, hoping to spot someone willing to step up and take his place. “We want to give the people a good show, don’t we?”

Gadez laughed and held out both his arms. "As we can see, his highness is certainly humble and truthful. But this is why you, your highness, is the best possible choice to act the role of this deceived prince. For Prince Ruddy is someone who has been carefully tended to like a rose in the garden, surrounded by other roses, to just one day be plucked and tossed on what some may regard as a coffin. A sacrifice. A fallen star. Whose entire life has been shaped by the one behind the state of this land of fairy tales. However dear people, this story isn't over just yet! For what do all who are ill desire? To be healthy. What do all bearing chains crave? To be free. There is more than one path along the labyrinth! The best show is the one which has a mix of truths and lies, the important part is being able to discern which is what, your highness." Gadez bowed his form to the crowd and then moved over to Nyla, giving Flynn a look which was clearly sly and with a slight upturn at his lips.

"This princess is most fair, however, does she not deserve your love, Prince Ruddy? Then perhaps another ought to give her the respect she deserves..." Gadez raised his hand slightly to try to cup her chin and leaned closer to Nyla, before whispering to her. "Play well and you may get what you wish for..." Before momentarily letting go, to see what Flynn would decide to do.

Nyla instinctively recoiled from Gadez’s hand, pulling her face away from his touch. Her skin crawled at the unwelcome contact, and for a moment, she feared she might lose the illusion she was upholding to appear human. The whisper he left in her ear only unsettled her further, but she bit back any retort, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she remained silent, standing tensely on the stage.

Her eyes darted to Flynn for some kind of reassurance, confusion evident in her expression. For a fleeting moment, their gazes met. To the untrained eye, he seemed composed, maintaining his outward calm and nonchalant attitude. But Nyla knew better. She could see the flicker of irritation in the subtle tightening of his jaw, the steely focus behind his eyes. A quiet ember stoked behind those green eyes. It was the kind of restrained annoyance only someone who had spent extensive time around him could detect.

The crowd seemed oblivious to the silent exchange, caught up in Gadez’s theatrics. But as Nyla stood there, she couldn’t help but wonder how much longer either of them could keep playing along with this absurd performance.

"But a sir? I am not. But the role which I play, was once sired. A long time ago. By a then young man with a desire for freedom and love, but later forsaken it for power. Forgetting the reasons why he wanted it in the first place. A liberator and a tyrant are just one step apart from one-another. Hnn hnn..." Gadez said in a dark tone, he twisted his cloak slightly to make it seem more dramatic.

"I am Halcyon, the untamed. A sin made flesh, a child lost to time and fire. The path you've been set upon is the path which was originally meant for someone else. A sacrifice. For the golden death. Which would see the Nova Kingdom flourish and the kingdom of the night... vanish among the light. Alongside any creations which people believe are just fairy tales." He said softly, blowing some air out his mouth as he motioned with his hand, creating a small fire in his hand before snuffing it out.

"Red Star. I am the golden star. But you simply call me..." The blue eyed man smiled.

"Brother." He said with a fierce tone of voice, his ghostly blue eyes staring right into Flynn's, walking closer to the prince, then circling around him. His blonde hair swaying as he did, the cloak flickering to every movement.

Flynn furrowed his brows as he listened to each of Gadez’s—no, Halcyon’s—words. He’d realized he had heard this tale before, and suddenly things were beginning to make sense. Flynn had seen it plenty of times before, desperate people weaving stories of connection to gain favor or influence. This was far from the first time a crazed citizen had claimed to be part of his bloodline, some distant relative vying for a sliver of royal recognition.

His gaze hardened as he continued to listen to the man's dramatic tale, unimpressed. If this stranger was trying to get under his skin, he’d have to do better than that.

"Deny it if you wish. I wouldn't want to believe it either, but unfortunately it is true. Now the question remains, will you play the role granted to you since birth, or shall you shatter all the things that bind you like I did? If you cannot remain true to your own heart, then why do you even live? For whose purpose and what cause? Be true, or begone. For this third kingdom desires a leader with a heart, not a puppet!" He kicked one of the wooden puppets on the stage.

"Two hungry wolves, one covered in fire and the other in frost seek to devour each other and this kingdom in time. When that moment arises, what will you do, Red Star? Will you fight for your people and your own cause, or the life selected for you, by the malevolent force that has set all things into motion? If you will not have the heart. Perhaps she will." He said sternly.

"Choose wisely, for no greater ally do you have for your kingdom come, than I. All you need to do is listen to what I have to say. Of the future that otherwise will devour this world entirely. Would you choose the grim truth, or the sweet poisonous lie before you, little brother?" He said softly, his smile looking less threatening than before, but he still awaited Flynn's answer.

After a moment of silence, Flynn began to slow clap. The sound echoed in the tense air as he flashed an amused smile at Halcyon. Though he was far from entertained, it was easy enough to pretend. He had been doing it all his life.

“What a great storyteller you are.” Flynn said, his voice carrying just enough enthusiasm to be believable. “Really, a performance worthy of applause. Don’t you all agree?” he asked the crowd as he turned to them, his clapping growing louder and faster. Awkwardly, Nyla began to clap along with him, forcing a smile upon her face as well.

The crowd, caught up in the moment and confused, hesitated only for a moment before joining in. The onlookers began to clap more fervently, cheering in agreement. They loved the spectacle, even if they didn't fully understand it. “Great job, Halcyon!” one of the children yelled, a big smile on her innocent little face.

Flynn nodded, still smiling, and turned back to Halcyon. "Thank you. Truly, a grand performance." he said, meticulously keeping his tone light. "But I'm afraid I have matters that require my attention, so I can’t stay for the encore."

Gadez gave a smile in return to Flynn, it was genuine, he was highly amused and offered a deep bow in his typical butler fashion. "Ah such praise! But to tell a story is one thing, to listen and understand it is another! So for playing the role of Prince Ruddy, the inexperienced and naive prince, you played it flawlessly, your highness. An applaud for the golden child, Prince Flynn." His eyes and following smile was setting on Flynn even as he bowed before clapping his hands. His eyes momentarily closing as he did and his almost catlike smile decorated his face.

Turning to go, Flynn paused just as he caught Nyla’s eyes. His heart thudded in his chest, a sudden rush of awareness flooding him. He couldn’t just leave her here. Without a second thought, he extended his hand toward her.

Nyla hesitated briefly, but then she placed her hand in his. Without missing a beat, Flynn gently pulled her away from the stage. “Thank you again.” he said over his shoulder to Halcyon—Gadez, whoever he really was—before pulling Nyla through the crowd behind him, their exit masked by the applause and cheers. Nyla’s touch made him feel so electric, he hardly even noticed her absence of warmth.

"Pleasure is all mine, your... majesty. All for the haven of the new dawn." He replied in a playful tone to Flynn, hoping his words would find its way to the prince's core. The more reactions he would receive from the prince the better he would understand him. A thing which the gardener thought was of most importance, it would dictate the near future. Or should one say... which future?

"And a thank you to all of you who came to hear this little tale, perhaps in part two, Prince Ruddy will give the answers to the questions posed. Unless fear grips his young heart! Will he rise to the call and become the saviour of all or shall he become the villain of this tale? You are all invited to witness the second part of the play when it is time, it will have battles and much more thrill. It's simply to die for." Gadez bowed playfully to the crowd, his arms spread widely as he did.

'A story is not over til the epitaph, let us play again soon, child of evil. Let us see if you can overcome your nature like many of these blighted ones have... like I did. Break free of all strings which bind you and become the King you could be. There's more than one future, now which path will you take, oh prince of gilded promise...' He thought as he watched Flynn walk away with Nyla, before they vanished in the crowd. All things considered, it had gone quite smoothly. Albeit a tad shorter than he had expected, it had nonetheless yielded him valuable knowledge about what kind of man Flynn was.

Flynn’s heart pounded in his chest as they weaved through the onlookers, the noise fading into a low hum as they slipped toward the back of the tavern. His hand gripped hers with a strange mixture of urgency and tenderness as he guided them through the kitchen and made a beeline for the backdoor.

Once they reached the exit, Flynn loosened his grip on Nyla's hand, finally letting go as he pulled open the door. A gust of cold air swept in, but he barely registered it as he met her gaze, holding it for a moment longer than necessary. Without a word, he gave a slight nod, silently urging her to go ahead.

Nyla stepped out into the frigid night, her breath visible in the air as Flynn followed close behind, quietly shutting the door behind them. The muffled noise of the tavern faded into the background, leaving them in the stillness of the cold. Flynn’s mind raced, unsure of what his next step was. He only knew that he needed distance from that strange puppeteer—and he needed to speak with her. Alone.

The blonde monk slowly moved over to pick up the puppets he used in the show and moved over to give the children one each, showing them how to use them. "Take good care of these, and remember that the best story is the one you live in. The real story that matters." He smiled softly to them, patting them on the head before he excused himself from the crowd to go and dismantle the puppet-theater and carry the pieces out of the inn, perhaps the pieces could be used as a makeshift home later. He would live like some beggar or homeless person if that was the case. Not to mention a bit cold. But surely no matter what path he would choose to take, the goddesses, if they truly were listening, wouldn't allow him to end in such a manner. No. Only a golden death would do.

---

_{Location: Outside the Inn}

---

---

There was a sharp spike of anger in Amaya’s chest at how he spoke to Elara – but at least she’d backed away from him slightly, even if the space between their bodies still seemed too narrow for comfort.

Then he turned all the charm he seemed to possess onto Amaya. Few had dared to ever be so forward with her. She froze, eyes trapped by his, as he spun pretty, empty words. Amaya couldn’t look away. Her cheeks began to heat.

A face flashed through her mind. The last — the only — person who’d tried to wrap Amaya in sweet nothings. A young man, little more than a boy really, though he’d been older than her at the time. Dark hair, and amber eyes. He’d been so startlingly fair, his skin like milk against her own.

Then a wall of ice slammed down around the memory.

Their eye contact was broken when the healer finally appeared. A distraction. Amaya’s eyelashes fluttered, her breathing quick and shallow. The seams of her heart, shattered edges that she’d worked so hard to fit together again, ached with an old, fragile pain. Shameful.

She swallowed. Her eyes unfocused as she retreated inwards, trying to pull herself back together. She was still in public, she couldn’t keep being so sloppy. Amaya had been good at this once — she’d mastered her role, learned how to use it to her advantage when everyone else seemed set on keeping her locked away. Amaya had been barred from all matters of state — so she’d learned to study people, instead.

She forced that bitter pain, the shame, the naive hope, away. Her eyes refocused.

The man was all but scrambling away from the healer. His pretty words, thick with allure, were a far cry from how he acted now. Because they’d been false. A means to some end. Every time. It was never about her, because she never mattered, not in the face of whatever it was they actually wanted. His face flashed in her mind. How broken he’d seemed in the moment he realized who she was — or wasn’t. Amaya forced herself to put another unnamable hurt away.

The way he was vacillating so wildly – hope, to anguish, to anger, to charm, to fear… this was a man flailing. Desperate. For what? Was it merely the impending dread of the end of the world, pulling him taut? Amaya didn’t think she could blame him, if so. But… why refuse healing? Pride? No, he acted as though this new woman, white haired like Elara and just as slight, was more threatening than the risk of infection. And it did look infected, what little she’d seen of it.

Amaya felt her shoulders stiffen as she watched him. The way the skin around his eyes tightened, even as he kept his charming smile. Tension was building like a storm on the horizon. When it finally broke, perhaps he’d just hobble off in a fit of annoyance. Or perhaps he’d snap in other ways. The building swell of her magic answered her nerves, minuscule crystals forming along her fingertips.

Elara’s gentle voice carried through the air, drawing everyone’s attention. And suddenly the need to act, to diffuse this man, was immediate.

“Or perhaps,” she said, answering his soft smile with one of her own, “if you will not allow healing, you’ll accept some other comfort.” What did he want? He didn’t want healing. He’d snapped at Elara just for helping him to his seat. He didn’t want anything from Amaya based on that heartbroken look he’d given her… but then why come up to her at all?

A mistake, she reminded herself bitterly.

“And I won’t hear another word about my supposed ‘radiance’. If it inspires such foolishness as ‘crawling through blight’ then perhaps your road to recovery is best paved without my involvement.” Her tone was light, a faux sternness to it. It was a familiar voice, one she’d used countless times with the members of her father’s cabinet when they thought they were simply teasing her. Slowly, atrophied muscles were reawakening.

Amaya thought back to that flicker of hope the man had, the moment before his face had crumpled… she hadn’t been whatever he’d expected. But Amaya was… Amaya. Well, Amaya wasn’t who mattered. But she was the only Princess in Dawnhaven as far as she knew, and that meant she tended to be recognized by the citizenry here, even if she hardly ventured out amongst the people. Even if most of Lunaris hardly knew anything about her. But this man… no, he’d had no idea who she was until he’d gotten close. As far as she could tell, he still didn’t realize who she was. He was new to the settlement.

“It’s a day of celebration — if you insist on attending, you should at least keep yourself from aggravating your injury any more.”

That ‘wild dog bite’ as he’d called it (even Elara hadn’t managed to keep the skepticism from her voice) hadn’t looked fresh. Had he arrived just before the storm, and been locked away with the festering wound? For a week? No, it would’ve been crippling by now.

He’d just arrived in Dawnhaven. He was desperate. He had an injury that he shouldn’t have been able to walk on. He didn’t want anyone examining his body.

Amaya blinked. She looked at him with new eyes. He looked like an ordinary human, if a bit strung out. But a theory clicked into place. She cast her gaze about the crowd.

“Excuse me,” she said, barely raising her voice. But still, the call carried, and the woman Amaya was looking at turned to face them. It was one of the employees of the inn, holding three empty tankards in one hand and on her way back towards the door. Her eyes glowed lime green, three small horns poking out from a short crop of hair.

The blightborn woman blinked as she realized who was calling for her. Then her eyes widened and she all but ran over to the little group. Amaya hid her hand in the folds of her skirt, fingers curling into a tight fist. The ice crystals melted away under the pressure of her own slight body heat.

Amaya gave the gentlest smile she could muster. Uncurling her fingers she reached out to lightly grip the woman’s free hand. It was a warm gesture to anyone who didn’t know Amaya, and the careful distance she kept from most people. Amaya was proud at least that she’d kept herself from flinching, her smile still steady on her face. She had never even touched a blightborn before. But everything was always easier when it was part of a calculation — when she could pretend it was someone else, and Amaya had simply disappeared.

“I apologize for the interruption, but would it be possible to get… a cushion perhaps, or blanket?” She turned her face to look back at the man, her hand still on the woman’s. “Would that be amenable to you? We could leave you be with some cushioning for your leg, at least.” It didn’t matter what he said, or wanted, as long as he saw Amaya with this woman — perhaps that would unwind some of his volatility. Perhaps he wouldn’t act so desperately if he didn’t think he was going to be hunted in the streets.

---

_{Interaction: Elara Moonshadow @Qia, Vellion Hurst @Dark Light, Aurora Halliwell @BlackRoseSiren}

As Orion stepped in front of her, Kira’s fiery orange eyes stayed locked on the nobleman, her glare searing as she continued to bare her fangs. Ayel’s face was flushed, red with both fury and embarrassment, his trembling body betraying his barely-contained rage. His eyes locked with hers, and Kira could see he was on the verge of exploding, his arrogance fueling whatever bravery he thought he had. For a moment, she considered striking first, ending it quicker than he could even raise a fist.

But then her gaze shifted to Orion, the wall of muscle now standing between her and the nobleman. His crimson eyes met hers, calm yet firm, silently urging her to back down. His posture was commanding, as if he intended to intercept any blow she might try to deliver.

Kira narrowed her eyes, the tension tightening in her muscles as her mind weighed the odds. She knew Orion was no pushover; he was trained, capable of handling himself, and put in a position close to the Prince for a reason. While she had the power to easily handle the sniveling Aurelian behind him, going through Orion would be a different fight altogether—a fight she wasn’t eager to start.

Kira’s lips twitched, pulling her fangs back ever so slightly as she reined in her desire to lash out. She could feel the heat of her anger simmering under her skin, her instincts screaming for her to rip into the nobleman’s throat anyway. Who would even miss him?

Without saying a word, Kira forcibly tucked her animalistic side deep within. It fought to keep itself on the surface, clawing at her insides, but she was stronger—for now. The fight wasn’t worth it.

Her eyes flicked back to the buffoon behind the wall of muscle for a moment. Clearly, he was completely unaware that Orion had likely saved his little miserable life. Luckily for him, Kira had respect for Orion—and she had no intentions on getting kicked out of this safe haven.

Watching Ayel begin to fumble around, Kira’s expression dripped with disdain. The nobleman was a spectacle of delusion, drenched and babbling to himself about Aelios as he ascended the stairs. Had he hit his head during the fall?

Unsurprisingly, the pampered fool couldn’t even walk without stumbling into a wooden post. Kira’s lip curled into a faint smirk, her eyes still narrowed. It was too bad he hadn’t hit the post hard enough to knock himself out.

Hearing Sya begin to sob again, Kira glanced at her and shifted uncomfortably, unused to such raw vulnerability. Thankfully, the snake woman began to gravitate to the Priestess for an embrace. Sya’s emotional unraveling was far too much for Kira to handle in an appropriate manner. At least Tia would have a soothing presence, something Kira knew she didn’t have.

Sympathy did manage to stir in her chest as Sya explained how she had been treated for being a blight-born, though. Kira knew all too well what it was like to be treated as less than human for simply existing as they were. Truthfully, however, she hadn’t protected Sya out of pure compassion. Her instinct had been to put that insufferable noble in his place. The entitled, arrogant way he had spoken and looked down upon Sya had opened old wounds within Kira, igniting anger in whatever was left of her soul. Still, the outcome had been good for Sya, and that was something, at least.

Trying to distance herself from Sya’s emotions, Kira’s eyes found Ayel again, her eyes following him as he darted behind a tree. Confusion settled on her face as he attempted to hide, yet stood out like a sore thumb. How daft could one person be? It would have been a mercy to put him out of his misery. It almost seemed cruel to continue letting him fail through life like this. Obviously, the only thing he had going for him was his family name. It was sad, really.

“Pathetic.” Kira muttered to herself, shaking her head as she followed Ayel’s gaze to see what it was that he was hiding from. Another blight born had appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes set on Tia. Kira glanced at the Priestess, who seemed to recognize the blonde woman too.

Annoyingly, the hot springs were becoming far too active for Kira’s liking. The peace she had been seeking was utterly shattered.

Letting out a quiet, frustrated breath, she willed herself to calm down. No matter how much she would have liked to put Ayel out of his misery, it wasn’t the time or the place. She had to be on her best behavior here. For now, she would do as Orion asked.

Shifting her gaze to him, Kira raised a curious brow, taken off guard by the faint hint of smile lingering on his lips. She had rarely seen him display much of any emotion, let alone fighting back a smile or a laugh. Somehow, the sight of it was endearing, softening the serious edge he usually carried himself with. It felt like a rare peek behind the walls he hid himself behind, and it was oddly disarming.

At Orion’s remark, Kira smirked, her gaze flicking back to Ayel who still pitifully attempted to hide behind the thin tree. “You’re right. Too boring.” she agreed, her voice carrying a quiet but playful edge now.

Behind Orion, Kira noticed the Priestess beginning to ascend the stairs to approach the blonde woman. Briefly, she glanced at Sya, wondering if her mental breakdown had finally subsided and if she would—hopefully—leave Kira in peace here. Or at least share the alcohol.

Taking one final look at Ayel, she watched him peek around the tree trunk and narrowed her eyes again. “May the next puddle drown him.” She whispered with cold disdain, only partially joking as she returned her attention to Orion.

She could feel the knot of frustration in her chest loosen, almost as if Orion’s dry humor had helped to ease the tension that had built there. Now the only person still inside the hotspring, Kira let out a slow breath and sank down until the warm water reached her shoulders, her fiery eyes still fixated on Orion.

For the past two months, she had always known who he was. It was hard not to, given his closeness to the Prince. People spoke of him, fascinated by his stand-offish aura. Humans were scared of him, she could tell. And what better protector for the Prince than to have someone people were scared of without having to lift a finger?

Surprisingly, he had a calming presence she hadn’t expected, and humor she hadn’t realized he was capable of. From the outside perspective he had only been stoic, emotionless, quiet and unreachable. Then again, was she much different?

“By the way,” she said casually from her seated position in the steaming water. “I’m Kira.”

---

_{Interactions: Orion @Qia
Mentions: Ranni @Queen Arya, Sya @PrinceAlexus, Ayel @Dezuel, Tia @c3p-0h}

Daphne

Eye of the Beholder

White hair and Sages.

The staff member gave a small nod to the Princess with a little bend of the knee, as she realised who was asking. Sya would not like things getting messed up but the Princess was a special issue, royals were royals. “ma'am… I can check, give me a minute.” the woman was surprised at the touch as the Princess was known to many as being reserved and most respected her, having her space. Everyone in Dawn Haven had issues and their own problems, so that was normal. “I'll see what the eye can provide” The woman turned to leave and find something. Sya offered equally and the eye employed a mix of Blight Born and humans.

…

Returning a minute or two later without tankards and a slightly frayed worn rougher grey blanket, with a softer musical accent from Auralia. “Here, you might like a warm up.” Juggling a Little she dropped a bowl of hot food for the man, a small set of servings of Shine to keep them all warm before heading away. She could tell Sya and and the mistress sent the royal Lodge a itemised bill.

…

Daphne was confused…. She watched a staff come and throw, the blightorn ..who else had lime eyes? Was busy and seemed to be taking some control in the mistress absence. The performance was…different.

Her thoughts were more distracted by seeing the two sages get up and dance, there was an evident spark between them, maybe flirting or past having kept each other warm at night. Daphne would not say no to someone taking her for a spin around the dance floor, especially with the chemistry being that good and that energetic.

The Prince seemed to be leaving out the back door, that was an odd look but he snuck out but the performance was certainly an …interesting one. The amount of questions she had just trying to make sense of it all. The man who caused it all was working on taking down the show and handing things out to the children. At least he kept it clean and did not have to ruin everyone's fun.. It was fun seeing a noble being all flustered for once.

Daphne made her way across the room with little issue, being tall and a guard had some advantages. “You taking Ladies for a spin?, unless I have to ask our puppet scoundrel? Long as the marquees, well I have a few ideas he might not like. If he returns, il keep him from being too much of a ass.” Daphne aimed at the blonde haired man and the sage Eris, her bright violet eyes with a sense of mischief behind them. things were calm, she could have a little fun.

She had to keep an eye on things plus she decided that showing she was the more relaxed of the Trio might open doors and build trust in different avenues to the others. Try to build her own niche and show her lord and lady that she could think on her feet and use her situations she found herself in to an advantage.

“Do you take requests, Something cheerful, I'm Sure I've heard you before? Cadia perhaps?” Daphne recognised his music but the man was human, this one was a blightborn? Maybe it was… the World was so turned upside down.

Daphne was not being entirely silly, the sound of a lively Inn and music might keep the troublemakers, aka Lords with an attitude away. Much as she would so very much enjoy beating his ass, she knew the level of hassle it would also raise would be high. Some things were more harmful than good, so prevention might be better than a fist.

Mentions
Internal. External .
@c3p-0h@Qia@BlackRoseSiren@Dark Light
@SpicyMeatball@Echotech71

Cautiously, Flynn scanned the area outside, his eyes darting to the shadows beneath the inn’s roof and the thick forest behind the tavern. The back of the tavern was still, barely touched by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the trees. The distant murmur of the tavern patrons inside could be heard, but otherwise it was quiet, with no sign of anyone nearby. The absence of torchlight made it feel as if they were hidden from the world. Untouched snow drifts surrounded the area, creating a makeshift barrier between them and the rest of town. They were alone, for now.

His gaze shifted to Nyla, his chest tight, words trapped in his throat. Silence hung heavily in the air between them as they stared at one another. The pain in their expressions mirrored one another, a shared grief they both recognized but couldn’t address.

After a moment, without thinking, Flynn stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against his chest with a sudden, desperate need. For a brief moment, Nyla froze, startled, but then she melted into him, pressing her face into the warmth of his chest, her arms slipping around his back. His heartbeat thrummed against her ear.

His scent, the solidness of his body against hers, the rise and fall of his breath—it all felt so familiar, and for just a moment, she let herself linger there. She closed her eyes, listening to the beat of his heart, but the longer she listened, the more she realized that the comfort it once brought her was gone.

This spot she once claimed didn’t belong to her anymore. His heart, the one she had once thought she could call her own, was no longer hers. Truly, it had never been. She had known that from the start, and had even told him so. Yet, despite all her efforts to guard herself, she had gone against her own better judgment, letting herself hope for something that was never meant to be. And now, standing here in his arms, she realized it had always been foolish. A naive desire.

Flynn rested his chin atop her head, holding her as she nestled closer to his chest. He closed his eyes, a deep ache settling in his heart as he allowed himself to savor the feeling of her in his arms once again—but only for a moment.

His jaw clenched and pain etched into his features, Flynn finally forced himself to pull away. His arms slipped from around her, and he took a step back, creating distance between them that he knew he needed to.

Nyla opened her eyes, the cold rushing back to fill the void where his warmth had been. She looked up at him, unsure, her breath uneven. His frown deepened as he met her gaze, regret and confusion battling inside him. After a moment of silence, he finally broke it, his voice low. "Why are you here, Nyla?"

Nyla’s gaze dropped to the snow, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Flynn. I know I shouldn’t be...” Her quiet voice wavered, as if she were unsure whether or not to admit the truth. She stared down at her boots covered in snow, the chill beginning to seep into her bones again. She knew what she should say, but the words seemed too heavy to speak.

“I didn’t have any other choice.” she whispered, her voice barely carrying in the stillness. When she finally looked up, Flynn’s expression was filled with confusion, his brow furrowed as he searched her face for answers.

She took a deep breath, as though preparing herself, and in that moment, the illusion she had been holding onto began to fade. Sparkles of golden dust fluttered around her, shimmering in the moonlight. Flynn blinked, watching in awe as her true form emerged—the black horns crowning her head, the sharp, elven-like ears, her skin glowing faintly with a golden, glittering hue beneath the surface. Monarch butterfly wings unfolded on her back, a vivid burst of orange and black, fluttering ever so gently.

Flynn’s face registered shock, confusion—but not fear. He didn’t recoil from her, as she had half-expected. “What happened?” he asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

She sighed, recalling her failings. “I... I tried to find my family after you left,” she confessed, her voice tinged with regret. “The nomads… I thought I could find a place with them again, but...” She shook her head as if trying to shake off the memory. “Well, this was the result.”

Nyla’s chest tightened as she stared at him. She could feel the flicker of the creature inside her stir, an ancient hunger urging her to call out his soul. Flynn—his ever-caring, patient, kind, strong and yet gentle soul—one of the best she had ever known. For a moment, her instincts clawed at her, the temptation whispering inside her mind. His soul probably tasted so sweet.

But she shoved the feeling down, hard. She refused to feed that hunger, refusing to even entertain the thought. She wouldn’t feed on him, not even consider it. Not him. Never him.

Flynn’s heart sank as he looked at Nyla’s new form. Guilt gnawed at him, clawing its way into his chest as if this was all somehow his fault. He couldn’t help but trace the lines of cause and effect, connecting the events that had shattered their lives. The clergy—their twisted prophecies and manipulations—had torn everything apart. They had stolen his life, Amaya’s life, and Nyla’s too. A terrible, cruel domino effect.

Anger simmered beneath the surface, a quiet but burning rage aimed at the clergy who had taken so much from them. Yet, as his gaze settled on Nyla, the anger was smothered by the ache he felt for her. All he wanted to do was take her pain away, to undo the damage that had been done. But there was no undoing it. Only the harsh reality of what they both now faced.

Flynn exhaled a long, weary sigh. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine…” He paused, struggling to find the right words. “You’ll be safe here, you don’t have to worry. I’ll make sure of it.”

He saw a flicker of relief in her eyes, but Flynn hesitated, the next words lodged in his throat like a stone. He tried to say it, to tell her that they could no longer be what they once were, but the words tangled, slipping through his grasp.

“But, I… We…” His voice faltered, stumbling over the words. “We can’t—”

They stood there in the silence, their eyes locking, the unspoken truth settling between them. He didn’t have to finish, they both knew. The message was clear, as painful as it was. The life they once shared, the bond they once had—it was dead. They walked different paths now.

He felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he fumbled for the words he couldn’t say. But Nyla understood. Her expression softened, a quiet understanding as she simply nodded. She had always known, deep down, that this moment would come. But knowing didn’t make it any easier.

“I know.” she whispered, a faint empathetic smile on her lips. “We both knew a long time ago, didn’t we?”

Flynn frowned, hating that she had been right all along. He wished he could say more, but there were no words that could make this right. So instead, he just stood there, fighting off the urge to take her in his arms and disappear into the woods. To kiss her like she was the only thing that mattered. To damn the world and live their lives as freely as they could before it all ended.

Unfortunately, he had always been a man driven by duty and responsibility.

Clearing his throat, Flynn took another step back from Nyla, widening the physical distance between them as if afraid to trust himself any closer. The space between them felt like a chasm, growing wider with each second. "There are homes... ones that have been built. You can take whichever empty one you like." he said, his voice quiet but steady. His eyes flicked toward the door that led back into the warmth of the tavern, needing something else to focus on.

"And,” he hesitated, the words feeling strange on his tongue now that they were meant for someone so close to him. “Well, there's a process we follow. Each blight-born undergoes an interview..." He looked at her again, trying to gauge her reaction. “My advisor and I will assign you a place in town to help out.”

As he spoke, he could feel the shift happening inside himself. Compartmentalizing—separating his personal feelings from his duties. It felt less like a choice and more like a survival instinct. He felt himself slipping into his Princely role, distancing himself from her, as if to shield himself from the ache that threatened to tear him apart. It was like watching it happen from outside his own body, something he had to do just to continue on.

Nyla nodded quietly, her face not betraying much. She could feel the shift too, the emotional distance widening between them. She tried to mirror it, pulling back, withdrawing into herself. A few more flickers of glowing fairy dust shimmered around her as her form gradually changed. Her human form returned, the one she preferred, the one she felt safer in—unseen, unnoticed by strangers who might pity her for what she had become.

The silence between them grew heavy, awkward. Flynn glanced at the tavern door, then down the snow-covered path that wound around to the front of the building. He didn’t want to return through the tavern, didn’t want to face the curious eyes inside after everything that had just happened.

“I… I’ll see you soon. For the interview.” he said quietly, both knowing full well that they couldn’t leave together—it would only raise questions.

He turned without waiting for a response, pushing his way through the snow, the crunch of his boots muffled in the thick white drifts. His mind raced as he pushed through the snow that reached up to his knees, not daring to look back.

Nyla stood there for a long moment, watching him disappear around the corner. It felt like something had been torn out of her, leaving a gaping wound. She understood why, but that didn’t make it any easier. With a sigh, she shook off the feeling as best she could and re-entered the tavern. She traced their steps back to the common room, the warmth and noise greeting her, though it did little to soothe the ache inside. She had never been one to dull her problems with alcohol, but today was different. She needed something to dull all this pain, so she headed straight for the bar.

Flynn rounded the corner of the tavern, his steps heavy as he trudged through the thick snow, feeling it cling to his pants and boots, the cold seeping through to his skin. He could still feel the faint warmth of Nyla’s presence, the echo of their conversation ringing in his ears. He hadn’t wanted it to end like this, but it had to. It had to.

As he neared the front of the building, his heart sank at the sight waiting for him.

Amaya stood with a group of people gathered around a dark-haired man who seemed to be in distress. Their concerned murmurs filled the air, and the tension was palpable. Flynn’s stomach twisted, but not out of concern for the man on the ground. No, it was the sinking realization that he was going to have to talk to Amaya about Nyla, about everything.

His chest tightened as his pace slowed and he watched her, her face painted with worry for the stranger. Guilt creeped into the edges of his thoughts.

Anora Opal Raunefeldt

Two carriages would quietly approach the gates into Dawnhaven.

"Hoooo! State your business in Dawnhaven travellers!" The guard called out as he stepped forwards, the other guards resting their hands on the pommels of their swords. The carriage driver gave the carriage a knock and soon after the door would open up, a pair of foldable stairs would fall down and out would step a pair of brown boots clad with large yellow rosettes decorating them, followed by a red cloth umbrella with white trim. The guards eyes would look first baffled, who would bring an umbrella when the skies had been dark for so long. It wasn't raining neither.

Then they saw it, peacock feathers and yellow wintery dress with white fur coating the neck and the end of each arm, but it wasn't the outfit which made the guard blink quickly and forget to close his mouth. It was the young lady wearing it, she descended out of the carriage almost like royalty, her hair being split in colour, one side being black and the other blonde. Her skin was fair with rosy cheeks and a red dot on her lower lip made by some form of make-up.

"Welcome to Dawnhaven, milady!" The guardsman's tone changed and he licked his hand, before pulling his hair back and straightened his back.

The young lady simply gave a smile before turning to her driver, to which she reached out for to take a small bucket after which she went over to the horses and giving them a carrot each while stroking their manes.

"Much appreciated~ And thank you my darlings for taking me this far~" She smiled at the steeds as the gates began to open, then she set her blue eyes on the guardsmen again, then to the little bucket with carrots.

"Aww~ You poor things must be so tired from standing on guard whole day~ Here you go~" She went up and offered the closest guardsman a carrot. She wasn't aware of the feast within Dawnhaven and that all the guards had already fed. But this guardsman wasn't dumb, he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. He quickly gripped the carrot as it was passed over, his expression began with suprise, before changing into a blank stare. The rest of the guardsmen hurried over to also be gifted some carrots which was intended for the horses. But the young lady wouldn't make a difference of big bulky guardsmen and her fair steeds which had taken her all this way.

Soon after she began to walk on foot into Dawnhaven, her large umbrella resting against her shoulder, the small hat with the big yellow ribbon she wore on the side of her head neatly in place, her steps were dignified befitting of a noblewoman. Her adoptive mother had taught her etiquette enough that she could do this and distinguish all manner of cutlery at a noble's table.

"Milady are you truly fine with walking?" The carriage driver called out to the young lady.

"Oh don't worry about me~ I want to see if I can see my brother or Flynnie- I mean the prince~ Fufu~" She waved softly with her hand in front of her mouth. All things considered she was dressed for the weather, the fine coat that was worn outside of her dress was warm, and the short cape she wore was silky soft and flickered gently in the wind.

Then she spotted someone standing close to a tree in the distance, it somehow resembled her brother although her brother didn't typically look so... was there a recent downpour?

"Ayel!~ Big brother!~" She called out loudly in a cheery manner while waving her free hand, and she could see the distant figure cringe and react as if he had been a mouse caught nibbling on some cheese, before the man in a seemingly panicked way began to run as fast as he seemingly could in the complete opposing direction. It must have been someone else. She could have sworn she recognized that hat.

"Please try find a good place for unloading my belongings, take your time and don't hurt your poor backs~ Make certain to get yourselves some warm food too~ You must be exhausted and cold from the trip~" She said softly to the carriage driver who seemed to blush for a moment before giving a reluctant nod.

'Flynnie, where are you?~' She thought before excusing herself from her entourage, entering the larger gathering of people. Her steps were confident but light, she didn't force her way through the gathering but rather waited for them to make some way for her.

@BlackRoseSiren@c3p-0h@Qia

Vellion Hurst

---

Outside Eye of the Beholder.

---

He held the charming grin, that playful devious smile, his eyes had an edge of danger, his voice a tone of assurance and control... even though he felt like a cornered rat. The space around him opened just a little and he welcomed it. As he took control of his thoughts a reminder swelled deep within him. Hunger.
"You are all really too kind." He protest as his head turns to acknowledge each woman around him one by one, meeting their eyes, each more beautiful in their own right.

“Even if it is just… a dog bite, as you so put it, you lose nothing by allowing it to be looked at.”

The compassion of the moon haired lady was fierce. he should really get their names. "The harm would be to my stubborn foolish pride." his words come out on a defeated exhale. He relaxes his posture as he expertly fakes this revelation. This deep confession."I have little else, let me hold onto that." Women couldn't understand or question the strange workings of an honourable man's pride, hell, Vellion didn't even understand it himself. It was never a thing that he was burdened by. Then the other woman spoke again, pulling his eyes back to her where they rest so naturally.

“Or perhaps,”“if you will not allow healing, you’ll accept some other comfort.”

His eyebrow slightly raise at that offer and the smirk lifted in the corner of his lips as he hung on her following words. His eyes were pulled to her lips, that soft 'radiant' smile. All the whilst his hunger slowly grew. Infiltrating and invading his thoughts. Natural and unnatural urges mixing and confusing one another.

“And I won’t hear another word about my supposed ‘radiance’. If it inspires such foolishness as ‘crawling through blight’ then perhaps your road to recovery is best paved without my involvement.”
“It’s a day of celebration — if you insist on attending, you should at least keep yourself from agravating your injury any more.”

He let the air fill with a steady pause after her words, but he made it known his were to follow.
"And on that my lady, we both agree. You are wisdom and grace wrapped in beauty and kindness. Who could focus on such things as recovery when you are around but a man both blind and deaf. And I am neither."

He gave that a moment to sink in as he shuffle back and despite still being on the floor, took a more proud and confident pose. Words, he could hide behind.
Before anyone else could add anything more he continued. Flashing his devilish grin first. A grin that held hints of something else.

"But as you say, this is time of celebration. Merriment is rare in these dark times, let us all enjoy it and forget about our other worries for this brief moment. Let the stresses that cling and clutch to us be no more while the festive fire burns. If only for a short time, let us be free of ourselves."

It was almost melodic the way he spoke, smooth soft soothing words dancing through the air, playing on listeners ears. They reach inside each individual that might find their own connection to them.
Leaning on truths to give weight to his song, his emotions were so wide, so raw, that he could not conceal them all. Flashes and hints occasionally filtering through, tearing at his mask.

One such deep seeded idea tug his lip into the beginning of repulsion, teased at his brows to briefly furrow with disdain. The flash was small and brief, but it undeniably existed. His disgust for the blightborn woman. His eyes once spotting the horns refused to focus on them again. The avoidance more obvious than a stare.

The complications and hypocrisies were not lost on him but old habits were hard to hide and he hadn't the time to unravel all these new revelations just yet.

Soon she return with a welcomed blanket and disregard food. Of course, he should be cold. Faking a shiver he wrap himself in the blanket and then offer a hand up seeking help to stand.

"I think I'd like to see the temple."

...and the hunger continued to grow.

_{Interactions/Mentions:@The Muse Kira}

---

Nathaniel Stormlight

---

Location: Eye of the Beholder.

---

With a soft sigh, Nathaniel sank into the worn leather booth, its textured surface cool and cracked beneath him, imbuing the moment with a rich sense of history. The air was thick with the warm, spiced aroma of mead, a sweet melody that danced alongside the faint tendrils of smoke from the flickering torches adorning the tavern’s stone walls. Directly in front of him, a lively puppet show that captured the attention of the crowd had come to an end. The torchlights around the tavern coated its patrons in a warm, inviting glow as everyone continued celebrating with booze and food.

He lifted his chilled metal mug of mead to his lips, feeling the cold surface and the weight of it in his hand—the aroma of the beverage within. As he took a hearty sip. The blend of flavours that filled his mouth and soothed his senses. Then, an unsettling sensation prickled at the back of his neck, urging him to halt mid-sip. With a mix of curiosity and concern, he turned his head to the left.

His gaze landed on Eris, who sat next to him in the booth, subtly illuminated by the soft glow of the tavern’s light. Her hair cascaded in gentle waves, framing her face. She averted her gaze, her composure faltering as she became captivated by the tankard cradled nervously between her fingers. Nathaniel’s brow furrowed as he looked at her, the way her fingers traced the rim of the tankard rhythmically and anxiously.

Something is wrong. He thought. Just as he opened his mouth to voice his concerns, a sudden clamour erupted, drawing his attention.

Turning toward the source of the noise, Nathaniel's eyes were drawn to an imposing figure who stood in front of him. A woman clad in intricately designed armour that shimmered like a mirror under the soft, flickering light of the torches. Each crafted plate caught the kaleidoscope of colours and blurry reflections of other patrons dancing from the flames of the torches and light, reflecting hues that shimmered. An undeniable authority radiated from her presence, the same dedication that resonated with Nathaniel's magical studies. Her striking violet eyes, glimmering fiercely.

Her voice flowed effortlessly, She extended an invitation to dance, Leaving Nathaniel momentarily speechless. Did she see the moment he shared with Eris? A wave of confusion rippled through him at first. However, it was swiftly eclipsed by an ingrained sense of duty stemming from his noble lineage—a part of him that insisted one must never decline a lady's request. That would seem unfair since he had only just met Eris and danced with her.

With a practised smile, he replied, ”Of course.” Beneath the polished exterior, however, an instinctive conflict twisted in his chest. Leaning slightly toward Eris, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper tinged with concern, “I’m sorry about this. I won’t be long. I want to discuss the research with you more later.”

As he pushed himself up from the booth, an unexpected sensation surged through him, creeping up his spine and settling deep in the back of his mind. It was as if an electric shiver of awareness awakened within him—What was that feeling just now? he wondered. Was it the anxiety of leaving Eris for another dance? Especially with another woman? Or had their previous dance sparked an elusive connection? Whatever it was, it made his heart race. His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard against the dryness that threatened to overwhelm him. He cast one small glance at Eris before his attention shifted back to the armoured woman standing before him; he needed complete focus.

”Ready when you are, Miss?” Nathaniel prompted, an air of formality mixed into his words as he sought to uncover her name amidst the haze of tangled emotions swirling within. Though he projected an exterior filled with resolve, beneath the surface, a tempest of uncertainty brewed.

---

Interactions: Eris @The Muse Daphne @PrinceAlexus

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_{Location: Front side of the Eye Of The Beholder}

---

As strange as some of the individuals dwelling in this particular place looked, they appeared to pay very little attention to the raven that Valthyr still was. It was much more than a pure illusion, but nontheless it was not impenetrable. A faint aura of oddity might be picked up by the most sensitive and attentive observers with the right attunement towards the right magical whispers, but either non of these was present here or they were too overwhelmed by all the gossip and other things going on.

Good. All he had wanted here was to take a quick bath in the water and it looked as if he'd get just that! It was a big splosh as the bird plummeted into the spring and for any significantly smaller creature such as an insect it would have been equal to the self-inflicted doom of not being able to take off anymore. Valthyr found himself happy not to be such thing though and so he was back in the air a mere couple of moments later. During his observations so far, he had already discovered a particularly large building that clearly stood out from the others.

A palace of sorts, maybe for the local ruler ? The outer appearance couldn't tell, but at least parts of it looked even more new than the rest of this village, almost as if there had been some extensive additions only very recently. He landed on top of it and rammed his sharp beak into the outside part of the crest like a woodpecker, extracting a tiny bit of wood. The taste was clearly subpar as anticipated, but the texture indicated that wood had been harvested and put into place not a long time ago indeed.

Valthyr cast a wary glance towards a large chimney, noticing that one wrong move and he might have to take a bath yet again. He hopped away from it along the roof towards the other side, peeking over the roof's end and down to what appeared to be the building's main entrance. Quite a few more people down there that might have been interesting to watch from this kind of perspective for a while, but the journey had been a long one. The druid had grown bored by having to eat worms, small mice and similar things while also having to watch out for larger birds of prey. A giant plate of roasted meat would have been nice for a change!

The raven disappeared as silently as it had come. He needed to retrieve his clothes. It wasn't much since he had not been able to carry a lot around as a large bird, but enough to stay inside the boundaries of societal norms. He would definitely freeze, but hopefully he'd be able to get inside soon. Just prior to shifting back into human shape in an unseen place and at an unseen moment, the druid could just barely hear the low rumbling of at least one carriage. New visitors ? Good thing he could bypass the guards as he pleased!

Valthyr's dress could be considered very unreasonably light for the current weather. So light even that his shirt didn't manage to flatten all the hair on his quite muscular breast so it looked almost as if it hovered a bit above his skin even without any wind. The pants were a bit better, but the druid's feet dug deeply into the snow without any protection at all. That definitely was a method of making a snowy place in the lowlands feel at least as uncomfortable as his home high up in the mountains, Valthyr soon noticed.

"Excuse me, can I help ?"

Valthyr tried to come across as a harmless passer-by, to bury all potential questions about his appearance with his openly exclaimed will to render assistance. Just don't look anybody in the face for too long or they might notice you're a stranger. he thought. On the long run revealing himself was unavoidable, but he'd prefer doing so in the calmness of some office or whatever mayors preferred to push their pencils around in. He honestly wasn't even sure how a typical implementation of government on the municipal level looked like in Lunaris. Where he came from, that wasn't exactly your average town.

Aurora Halliwell

Eye of The Beholder
Outside the Inn

---

After she had finished asking her questions, a thick silence surrounded the space as she patiently waited for the man’s response. The stillness stretched on for a few moments before he finally broke it, murmuring that he was fine and that the discomfort was merely a result of a wild dog bite. However, his casual words triggered a flood of memories in Aurora’s mind, dragging her back to the haunting day she discovered her parents’ bodies.

The vivid image of them, lifeless and covered in gruesome wolf bites, swirled through her mind, stripping the colour from her cheeks. She felt her breath quicken, transforming into shallow gasps as an overwhelming tremor coursed through her body. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, each beat a painful reminder of that traumatic experience.

The desire to forget those horrid memories became a desperate plea within her. Amidst that turmoil, Aurora tried to remind herself Aurora, pull yourself together. This man needs your help. She drew a deep breath, wrestling with her emotions as she tried to regain her composure.

Just then, the soothing voices of the princess and her lady-in-waiting broke through the fog of her thoughts. Listening to their gentle conversation with the man seemed to anchor her, stopping the residual tremors and restoring a sense of calm. She concentrated on their words, allowing their supportive banter to ease the anxiety gripping her heart.

When an opportunity arose in their dialogue, she seized the moment, her voice steady and earnest “If you won’t allow me to heal you with my magic, please heed the princess’s advice. You need rest” She urged, her tone soft yet firm. “However, let me at least clean, treat and bandage your wound to prevent any risk of infection.”

As she spoke, she quickly opened her canvas bag, revealing an assortment of supplies: rolls of fresh, sterile bandages, clear bottled water, and a small jar of healing balm. Each item was neatly organized, a testament to her preparation and care. She hoped he would see the concern and sincerity in her eyes and allow her to help him.

Linked
@c3p-0h @Qia @Dark Light @Fetzen

Ayel Raunefeldt

His noble and cunning evasion had seemingly bore fruit, despite not having the brutish training of those woodhugging rangers, he was basically a chameleon.

But somehow someone had still managed to bypass his effort and gone as far as to call out his name, without any mention of his grand titles. The voice was one he recognized, it had been a constant reoccurring thing in his nightmares, how often he would have woken from his noble slumber screaming in controlled...panic? No. He was not the panicked kind, he was just startled. It wasn't fear neither. It was a sense of self-preservation.

The voice in question would have made the hair on his neck stand up, haf he not seen them artfully removed as a part of his daily self-tending routine.

Ayel nearly slipped as he reacted to the voice, it wasn't that he lost his composure, he was far too levelheaded for that nonsense. Must have been the bad ground.

'Ahhhhhhhhh!' He screamed internally, throwing a glance quickly in the direction of the distant terror, before he ran, he ran as gracefully as a drenched noble could. Why had he not trained his legs more? This was clearly Faldrin's fault for not suggesting more mundane things. Useless commoners.

But then again, running were for those without calm and- wait... he couldn't be running. No. This was simply a hasty walk. The nobleman comforted himself as he definitely not ran.

He needed to change and get to his carriage, but odds were that the literal evil bearing an umbrella was heading for his estate in the making. Why did he send Faldrin away at such an unfitting time to deliver letters to the Aurelian royalty?

'Curse you Faldrin! You are never around when needed!' He mentally lamented, if Dawnhaven wouldn't have been so barbarian infested then he wouldn't had to do all this. It all fell back into place. It were those pestersome peasants fault. Ofcourse. It always were.

But Aelios was with him, likely watching and testing him. Oh. It was all a test of his character and patience? The nobleman reached for his face to supress the rising blush. He was so rich in character and all, to think he had even smitten a goddess, if he was a piece of cake he would have asked for more. But cakes were usually not good for ones figure, he wasn't as fat neither. But sweet and flavourful? Absolutely. But this wasn't a time for cakes, it was for escapes.

The nobleman made it to his carriage. Safe. For now.

Ayel then proceeded to make some of the most difficult decisions of his life. What to wear?

He dried himself as well as he could and checked himself for any bruises. It was as he thought. He had become invulnerable. Aelios had shielded him.

Her love for him was clear, but nothing could compete with his own admiration of himself. His lists of achievements. Ah. He had forgotten to bring with him his room of diplomas and medals. He momentarily smiled as he recalled his fur-less cat of his childhood, how he had paid the judges of a hound display to allow his feline pet to win that too.

There was something about taking the prize coin out of the commoners hands that struck a nerve in him. He loved that feeling. The little tickle going up from his feet to his brain, a far cry from the feeling of wanting to throw up on seeing the filthy beggars.

Ayel reached for his shelves of salves, powder, lotion, marking pens and more. All the tools needed to further decorate the view that was his face. It only bothered him that others got to enjoy the view more than him. He had his handmirror with him ofcourse, but perhaps the old idea of making Faldrin wear a mirror suit was worth a revisit.

As was possibly getting a new cat. Without fur ofcourse. Fur was only to be worn around the neck, not petted.

He frowned as his thoughts fell on his adoptive sister. She liked squirrels. And they in turn liked nuts. The nobleman thought it was oddly fitting as he regarded his sister to completely insane.

She was gifting things to the poor. The thought made him shudder. He wanted nothing more than to not be seen with her. What if there would be rumors about him? The idea of happy peasants it filled him with such disdain he accidently used too much powder on his face, resulting in a sneeze.

Then came the hardest choice. Which hat to wear? He sighed as he carefully combed his hair, then applied a very light purple lipstick on his lips.

'Mmm. I am stunning, like a kick to the head.' He smugly stared at his mirror, feeling momentarily the desire to reach out and lay his noble fingers on the sight before him. But he was hard pressed for time. He didn't know how long it would take for the archvillainess to find him. He couldn't even say he was sick, that would cause an even worse reaction.

He could still feel the sting on his cheeks after her pinching the last time, or the awful concotion she said would cure him.

Then the pastries and the tea, one would leave you unable to sleep and you couldn't get the taste out of your mouth, or feel the taste of anything else. The other sending you into a semi-coma where the person in question would be the ideal subject for radical suggestions.

He still recalled how she had gotten him to sign the papers for the construction of an orphanage. It had taken him months, with plenty of sweaty nightmares and a high amount of wine to deal with.

At least the building didn't come to bear his name, to have his surname dragged down by such lunacy. It was enough having to deal with his oblivious older brother and the umbrella wielding menace of a sister.

Oh he had promised his mother to be kind to them both, why had his mother been so selfish on her deathbed? Ayel scoffed and then grew abit sorrowful.

'Mother...' He thought in a saddened way, before it gave way to anger.

'What did that bumbling idiot Andros have that I do not? There are door knobs more impressive than him. He also thinks that collecting stones is fun, and cricket being a sport. Disgusting insects.  What a buffoon. Good grief, if I wouldn't have sworn on your deathbed mother, I would have sent him to some remote island where he can do no harm. ' He sighed softly, that was but a wishful dream.

He finally decided. It was going to be a black hat and coat for now. It was perfect for mourning the arrival of his sister and Flynn's marriage with some illiterate barbarian. He needed to find the prince. But where would his bestest of friends be off to?

Perhaps that big awful inn? He shuddered on the idea of entering it. No definitely not such a place. As adventurous as his princely friend were he would surely not mingle with the commoners, no matter how many of the peasant girls would throw themselves at him. Those disgusting wenches, his best friend wouldn't ever let them get near him.

A sudden worry crept up on his face. Unless some devious earlicking advisor or barbarian would manipulate him.

Ayel knew what he had to do. He had to spread some words about the barbarian princess. That her ancestor was an ox would likely not be enough or believable. The Aurelians weren't stupid, unlike the rest.

But what if the princess would be found with another barbarian or found having something incriminating on her person. Not only would he save the prince from being married to a farm animal, but he would be getting fame as the one who caught her in the act. He then could help him find a more suitable princess, someone of pure Aurelian blood.

He momentarily lamented that if he had been born a woman, he might have become queen. But all things considered he couldn't stand the idea of cheating on himself with anyone else. Save perhaps for the goddess herself. If they had the same focus. Him.

The nobleman finally exited his carriage with his head held high.

Now where would he go? He had to evade his sister at all costs. He could hear the soun of music, he stopped and then felt his foot tapping to the rhythm. It didn't take him long to compose himself again and gave his foot a glare. It better not do that again. That was clearly common music, and such was beneath him.

Whomever was making the noise had probably stolen the song from someone more accomplished. Now that he thought about it. The tune sounded familiar.

He recalled a time in Aurelia when some troupe of, what he could only describe as thieves, paupers and vagrants were doing some performance for the dimwitted common mob.

'These gullible fools, I swear this is a theft in progress, and its coming from that inn. The inn?! That filthy hole! Ofcourse it's coming from in there.' He grinded his teeth together as he peeked around the corner in his dark outfit.

'If there is a theft going on in there, and the thief is caught, the owner can be pointed out as a thief aswell. They end up jailed and then the building can be torn down, I get worshipped as the saviour of Dawnhaven... and the sight from my new bedchamber will be improved.' He thought gleefully, but then swallowed. It meant he had to enter the inn. Perhaps he could use the excuse that he was looking for some stableboy for his noble steed. It wasn't the most brilliant of excuses, but this was witless poor people. They would buy anything as long as it was free.

There was something poetic about it. The nobleman had his latest quest, and the reward was too good not to take it.

Sya had spent a few minutes laying back and exploring her new form, the water shed easily off her scales and dried quickly and felt nice she flexed her tail, it was strange but an interesting feeling. She had to eventually move and start doing things, her emotions were still fragile but the snake lady was trying to find her centre again.

Flexing she eased the stress away, certain things seemed to feel good and rested her head against tail as she lay down and watched the ever present stars. They were pretty and she was always too busy to pay attention to them until now. She had gazes upon them as a child but could not place the exact star map she once could, that was and the one she had been taught was distorted by time, distance and the eternally bright moon making her idea of what and where each star was pointless from before.

Sya saw Kiara and Orion talking, they seemed quiet and comfortable, probably nothing more than that but shenhad noticed that Orion had joined Bathing and maybe they shared her need for a time away from the main town. However as she slithered back towards her clothes she couldn't help but overhear a small part of them talking. She however could move very quietly it seemed as a snake form, her tail barely made a sound as she moved and flowed over the rocky hot spring. “Oh, excuses me”

“Thankyou, for protecting me, he…jusssst was too much to take, I have had a rough day. Both of you, I know you are not ones to eat, but if you need my help, please Asssk me.” Sya said and paused, managing to control her voice more thinking of the stars, a constant cool light that was unchanged and glanced up with a smile And light of moon reflected in her one large eye. “Oh, I can help. He is a Marquies, Auralia, Ayel of house Raunefeldt. He claims to be a friend of Prince. He issss a Bassstad lord, not noble man of honour. I have the misssfortune to meet him. He tried to order me in my own Inn.” Sya said more fiercely and her hiss taking more note. She had a rather deep dislike for the man. The Borderlands tone coming stronger as her hiss joined it making her accent harsher, sharper and more tribal than the “civilised” accents.

Sya slid into the water, her swaying movements pushing into the water easily without much disturbance as she sighed in contentment, the warmth was lovely and felt her tension drop the comment she hit the water, the stress and her fears. Maybe this place was healing?

“Thanksssyou, Can i join you, i do not wisssh to return yet. Too busy… too much” Sya was somewhat Emotional and wrapped both her protectors in a rather enthusiastic hug, tail and all without thinking as she tried to master her more blightborn instincts , emotions and drives.

Sya let go and pushed herself back off to a more comfortable point she could indulge in the hot waters joy, a little like a mermaid, she had found a smooth rock and had her upper body rested on her tail. A rather odd position but it was strangely comfortable and comforting for her. The tip swished about in the hot water and she tried to place how she did not have a full blown panic attack still.

“I know You, but i have not truely met you yet, and hope to change that. The fact we do not eat hot food, kinda explains that… Please call me Sya, just Sya today.” Sya said and offered about the bottle of wine she had with her, a Auralian bottle that was not the best but was a passable drink and fruity. “Prince's Bounty, enjoy.”

The innkeeper was a little tipsy as her shine, the wine affected her, the drink was fairly potent and made a hic as she lowerd slightly resting more into her own body. Alien or otherwise she gave up trying to explain it. “Oooops, You want me send a runner, I'm sure Vala can make ussss a treat, vi have some nice UarLunari Brandy, or some….” Thinking to her blightborn bar maid, horns, lime green eyes, and a voice that she could charm anyone if they got past her rebirth.

Her thoughts returned when she found what her mind looked for. “Aurlaian Liquors, I save them for the good peoplesss” Sya beung suprisingky generous for the known to be tight purposed woman.

Mentions
@Qia@The Muse

Eris watched as Daphne appeared, her uniquely violet eyes set confidently on Nathaniel. The tall brunette woman had been the same person who stopped her earlier to talk about Sya. Eris furrowed her brow, wondering why Daphne was inserting herself, and even more curiously, why she had asked Nathaniel for a dance. Did they know each other? Eris's gaze flickered toward Nathaniel, searching for any sign of familiarity or warmth, but his expression revealed little.

When he leaned in to whisper his apology, Eris smiled softly and nodded, understanding the unspoken rules of noble decorum. A lady's request for a dance could not be easily refused, and Nathaniel was only being polite. Still, a small pang of something stirred inside her. Maybe she should have asked him for another dance before Daphne had stepped in. She pushed the feeling down quickly, shaking off the flicker of jealousy. This wasn’t the time for such things.

As Nathaniel rose and joined Daphne on the dance floor, Eris averted her gaze and pulled her coat around her shoulders. She stared into her mug of mead, feeling the weight of the drink in her hands. She toyed with the idea of leaving—returning to her notes, preparing for the upcoming journey to the Blight Lands. That was where her focus should be, not here, not watching Nathaniel dance with another woman.

She bit her lower lip anxiously, battling her instinct to leave, her eyes eventually wandering back to the pair. Daphne moved with ease despite her leather armor, her confidence evident in every step, and Eris felt a sting of envy. Daphne had no hesitation in asking for what she wanted, no second thoughts, while Eris had hesitated.

She sighed softly, her mind drifting back to the conversation about Sya. The guilt crept in as she took another sip of mead, feeling the alcohol warming her cheeks. She scanned the crowd, hoping to catch sight of her friend, but Sya was still nowhere to be found. Even though Sya’s transformation unsettled her, it didn’t excuse how she had reacted. She should have kept her composure. Her brother would have never let such emotions slip. She grimaced at the thought, taking another large gulp of her drink.

Returning her focus to Nathaniel and Daphne, Eris watched as he spun Daphne with the same practiced grace and charm he had shown to her earlier. She couldn't help but question the butterflies she’d felt during their dance—was she really so touch-starved that she had feigned some kind of spark between them? Perhaps she had been foolish and naive to think anything of it. No doubt Nathaniel had been trained in the art of charm, raised to be effortlessly charismatic. It wasn’t personal, was it? Yet, as she studied his face now, something told her that it wasn’t quite the same. To her, he didn’t look as comfortable as he had when they had danced. He didn’t wear the same ease or warmth that she had seen when they had been so close.

But feelings were impractical, especially in a time like this. In fact, why did she even care? Eris raised her tankard again, taking a long drink to drown the thoughts swirling in her mind. There were more important things to focus on—things that mattered far more than the butterflies still lingering in her chest.

Eris glanced down at the notes neatly stacked on the table, her mind still half-distracted by the dance happening across the room. With a small sigh, she finished off the rest of her drink and gently set the mug down on the table. One by one, she gathered her notes and folded the papers with careful precision before sliding them into the inner pocket of her coat. Somehow, the weight of them felt heavier now, like a reminder of the responsibilities she had been avoiding during this fleeting moment of social distraction.

Pulling the coat tighter around herself, she stood up from the booth, glancing briefly toward Nathaniel and Daphne still entwined in their dance. The soft music carried on, but Eris no longer felt part of it. Duty called. It was time to go.

---

_{Interactions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Nathaniel @Echotech71}

Kira’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she caught Orion’s gaze, mirroring her thoughts on Ayel’s rather hasty exit. The corner of her lips curled into a small smirk. She didn’t know who the mystery woman was that the nobleman had fled from, but Kira would certainly need to seek her out and thank her for her service.

Keeping her eyes on Orion, she shook her head and opened her mouth to respond, ready to admit that she had no idea who the woman was. But before she could speak, Sya slithered closer and began explaining who the Aurelian man had been. Kira listened quietly from her seated position, pulling her knees up and covering her chest, just barely visible beneath the steaming water.

She made sure to remember the details Sya provided, filing the information away within her mind for safe keeping. Ayel of House Raunefeldt. A Marquess. The Prince’s supposed friend. Kira frowned slightly, somewhat surprised that the Prince would associate with a man as haughty as Ayel. It wasn’t surprising that nobility flocked together, but it was hard to imagine the Prince, with his more humble demeanor, associating closely with someone so insufferable. The thought gave her pause—perhaps there were sides to Flynn she hadn’t yet observed. Her eyes shifted to Orion. Was he hiding a similar side of himself too? He didn’t seem to be close to Ayel, despite his close connection to the Prince. That, too, was interesting.

“Kira.” she introduced herself quietly to Sya, her eyes moving to the bottle of wine offered. She hesitated for a moment before deciding that after everything that had transpired, she could certainly use a drink. She tipped the bottle back, savoring the sweet taste, the warmth settling into her chest. Although human food no longer brought her comfort, at least there was still this.

Silently, she extended the bottle towards Orion as he settled beside her, dipping his feet into the warm water. The quiet between them was companionable, understandings communicated in only glances and feelings. Strangely, it was the most comfortable Kira had felt in another person's presence in… she couldn’t remember how long.

Still, the aura of Sya’s emotions lingered in the air. With her practiced skill in psychic magic, Kira was always aware of people’s emotions—more so than most. Sya’s emotions were spreading through the air like ripples across still water. Now, as her magic subtly reached out, she felt the pulse of Sya’s inner turmoil. It wasn’t intentional, more of a natural reflex she couldn’t quite turn off anymore, but it was uncomfortable to sit in. She caught herself tensing beneath the water, her fingers holding her knees closer to her chest as she considered retreating from the pressure of it. But Orion’s presence, steady and calm, balanced out the atmosphere, grounding her and easing the tension. Without him, she would have excused herself much earlier, escaping the feelings she didn’t know how to deal with. Isolating again, despite the way it only brought her sorrow.

As Orion took the wine bottle from her hand, Kira's gaze lingered on him for a moment, her thoughts shifting away from Sya’s emotional weight. A playful spark lit in her amber eyes, her usual guarded demeanor easing just a fraction.

“You sure the Prince is going to be okay without you watching over him 24/7?” she asked, her tone teasing. She wasn’t just poking fun, however, she was gently prying for more information about the inner workings of their relationship. The Prince had always seemed to hold a unique aura of his own, an enigmatic blend of authority and restraint, but it was clear that Orion played an integral part in the Prince’s life, more than just as an advisor.

---

_{Interactions: Orion @Qia, Sya @PrinceAlexus}

Daphne

Eye of the Beholder

White hair and Sages.

Daphne glanced at the woman next to the man who sat with him, this Eris, sure she was kinda poaching him but far as she knew he was fair game. She has not exclusively claimed the man or stopped her asking. “You want one too? You are cute and easy on the eyes. I could be persuaded. If you ever need help i'm easy to find, or the Lord and Lady.” Daphne teased Eris a little and her eyes sparkled with the mischief of her personality at times. Duty yes, but she was not as grim as some lunarians where stereotyped to be, just more reserved about it. Part tease, part genuine offer, if she needed help or protection, Daphne would do what needed to be done.

“Thankyou kind sir.” Daphne smiled and allowed herself to be led to the area people had cleared to dance and did not have a second thought. She was used to asking for what she wanted, her movements flowed and she was as her lord has insisted she learn to dance. If she could keep her feet, she could stay alive and he and Persephone had been rather unforging instructors but now she had long gotten over her being clumsy over tall woman of her youth.

She moved with a natural ease even with her swords at aide, heavier leather and sold boots far from the noble ladies' fine dresses and delicate shoes. Being fast was no good if you fell over the second you were so and ended up on your ass. “You are rather good, Lucky Me” Daphne said as she moved into a faster, more elaborate step, she let the music wash over her and guide her, just trusting and letting go. She let the energy of the music, even blightborn music, be her guide.

She placed her trust in the music and her handsome dance partner without fear, without hesitation.

By time they broke apart Daphne had a genuine smile but her fitness was such that she felt ready for a dozen more if she wanted even when it got more energetic. “You are quite the catch Nathaniel, thankyou.” Daphne said to him and looked over curiosity about the woman catching her mind, the two were Interesting and Daphne liked interesting people. They were like bright sparks of colour. I'm the grey darkness the world had become.

“If you save us, I'll happily let you spin me about.” Daphne said as the sages had so much weight on them, she kept it light and fun. They had enough problems to deal with. “If Ayel bothers your friend, let me know, I can have a few ideas… keeping you all safe is our jobs.” She added, the more eyes on that peacock the better.

Msntion
@The Muse@Echotech71