Nathaniel Stormlight

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Location: Eye of the Beholder.

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During Nathaniel's dance with the new woman, an entirely different sensation washed over him compared to his previous encounters with Eris. That wasn’t just a fleeting thrill; it was an electric spark that pulsed between them, though he recognized that it wasn't his magical affinity for electricity at play. As the rhythm of their movements swelled, the experience fell short, dimly lit by the lingering shadow of his thoughts about Eris.

Every so often, he found himself stealing glances toward the booth where Eris had been seated. A wave of uncertainty washed over him—had she been wishing to ask him to go to the dance floor once more? Just as he allowed the thought to take root, his dance partner’s voice broke through his reverie, forcing him to refocus on her elegant form. ”Oh.” he stammered, clearing his throat with a sharp cough, as if to shake off the tendrils of distraction that had ensnared him. “I’ve spent years honing my skills as a noble from a prestigious family.” The memory of his childhood lessons resurfaced, vividly depicting a stern teacher whose relentless guidance on posture and poise echoed in his mind. If only she could witness his current finesse amidst the twinkling lights and swirling music.

Suddenly jolted back into the moment, Nathaniel felt a flush of pride as his partner remarked on his ability, claiming he was quite a catch. “Thank you,” he replied, a small smile breaking through. Yet, beneath his shimmering façade, an unsettling feeling gnawed at him—was this discontent arising solely from the fact that he was not dancing with Eris? His gaze drifted beyond the booth, searching for her familiar figure, only to find her absence strikingly isolating. His heart raced as unease began to set in; where could she have vanished to? He felt an urgent need to take action.

”I apologize for this” he murmured, his voice edged with sincerity as he gently relinquished his partner’s hand. “I must go after my fellow Sage.” He took a step back, executing a polite bow as he instinctively adjusted his coat, steeling himself for the chaotic world outside.

The cold air hit him like a splash of ice water, the chill seeping through his clothes and sending shivers across his skin, making each breath rise in frosty tendrils. ”A woman just left the tavern. Which way did she go?” he asked a bystander. They pointed down the street. "The Sage went that way. Back to the Alchemic Chambers. She looked a little upset." The bystander said before walking away. Goosebumps prickled across his arms as he concentrated, honing in on Eris's magical signature, a guiding beacon in the frigid. But more to double-check that his information was indeed correct. There she is. he thought, a surge of relief coursing through him like fire as he quickened his pace, determined to close the distance between them.

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Interactions/Mentions: Eris @The Muse Daphne @PrinceAlexus

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Ayel Raunefeldt

Fortune favours the bold and the beauty!

Ayel gathered himself, which was alot of things to gather, all things considered. But for the nobleman, he had a lifetime of experience on that subject. He loved dealing with himself more than anyone else. After taking a deep breath he hurled himself out from the corner of the building, right out into the pathway and-

Baam!

Some reckless idiot had bumped into him, after all, he would never do such a thing himself by accident. Accidents. Had he ever disgraced himself by being a clumsy fool? Never. There were others who laid traps however, that were so low and beneath him that he couldn't spot them even if he tried to.

The nobleman raised his hand to backhand whomever had bounced into him.

"Why you dimwitted dullard, I've should- Ehh?" Ayel spoke out in an agitated manner, his eyebrows twitching before his face went completely blank as he blinked at the person which he had bumped into.

"My sincerest condolences, It seems the Prince has not yet had the peasants make the pathways proper, it can be slippery with all the grime they carry with them." He adjusted his hat as he looked Nathaniel over, his expression having changed to one of appraisal and interest.

"Ah! Lord Stormlight! In person! At last I meet someone who wasn't born in a barn! What great fortune that you would be here, we may not have spoken in person before, but I do recall the contribution your family has done to our great pure Aurelian kingdom, I also seem to recall you were a runner-up in the beautiful youths of Aurelia contest, some eight years ago. I hope you do not hold a grudge against me for winning by the great margins that I did. At least you were beaten by the better man, imagine today's contests when they allow peasants to compete. Yeuch. Disgusting to even imagine comparing the two." Ayel kept talking and then took out one of his napkins and tried to help brush off Nathaniel's attire.

"Are you in a rush? Did some lowlife peasant steal something from you or is someone chasing you? A good lashing in the face always works in sending the message." The nobleman reached for his horsewhip by his belt and made a few slashes in the air with it.

The Marquess had momentarily put his primary quest as a side-quest and was now fully focused on his fellow nobleman, perhaps he could make some promising arrangement with the young lord of the Stormlight family. Perhaps he could pay the man to come up with a new kind of magic able to make the peasants less hostile towards him. Like a subjugation spell? Like the tea that Anora was making, but in magical form. Something which could be used without having to worry about getting those pesky guards trying to jail perfectly fine gentlemen for defending themselves.

"Ahem! But yes manners. I was simply too beside myself, when I should had been in myself. I am Marquess Ayel Raunefeldt of Aurelia, I am also the head of the Aurelius Emporium, best friend of the Crown Prince Flynn Astaros, founder of the Pureblood Aurelian Society, Inventor of the mirrorcoat and former owner of a hundred percent pure non-fur clad east-aurelian feline." Ayel gave a smile with his white teeth, his eyebrow raising and he reached out his hand. His gloved hand. He could always discard it later. First impressions were important. He had no doubt already made a strong positive impact on Dawnhaven, he was confident that people would speak his name with strong feelings.

He sighed softly. To the peasants, he must surely look like a god. A merciful, beautiful and just god. After his recent connection with the goddess, he was certainly at the brink of being divine himself. What if he had the same purifying touch as Aelios? The thought fascinated him, there was always something new and exciting to learn about himself. Like an amazing book with an amazing hero and always something great he would come up with.

@Echotech71 Nathaniel

Nathaniel Stormlight

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Location: The streets of Dawnhaven.

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Following the direction given by the bystander, Nathaniel trudged through the thick, powdery snow that blanketed the ground, each step a laborious effort. The gentle warmth he had felt in the Eye of the Beholder, a renowned establishment renowned for its warmth and hospitality, was now a distant memory, fading away like the light of the sun at dusk. The chill seeped through his boots, coaxing him into a rhythm, his feet stomping heavily against the snowy path. He struggled to maintain his balance, and on more than one occasion, the slippery surface almost betrayed him, causing him to lurch awkwardly to the side.

Bringing his hands together in a futile attempt to fend off the cold, he noticed they were beginning to feel numb and stiff again. With each exhale, his breath crystallized in the frigid air, forming ethereal fog clouds that danced briefly before vanishing. Feeling the magic within him resonate, he concentrated, channelling it to gradually build up some warmth within his core. As he did so, the chilling cold that had enveloped him mercilessly began to dissipate, at least for the moment, offering him a reprieve. The thought crossed his mind that he was wasting valuable magical abilities on such a trivial endeavour, and he could almost hear the scolding voice of his family reminding him of his responsibilities. Yet, with an understanding sigh, he reminded himself that this was only a passing moment—a fleeting indulgence.

“Eris!?” he shouted into the wind, letting his voice carry across the vast, snow-covered landscape, waiting expectantly for a response that didn’t come.

Just as he braced himself to call her name again, a figure unexpectedly emerged from a nearby heavy, wooden door, catching him off guard. Colliding with Nathaniel, he stumbled slightly, his boots slipping in the snow, but he quickly regained his footing. He had been prepared to snap at the intruder for startling him, but before he could formulate a response, the stranger spoke up, offering an unanticipated apology that caught Nathaniel off guard.

Despite his initial irritation, Nathaniel couldn’t help but notice the air of nobility that surrounded this unfamiliar man. Though he didn’t know him, there was an undeniable elegance to his demeanour, one that suggested he was well-acquainted with privilege. A faint hint of perfume, more flowery and feminine than that of any noble daughters he had encountered at previous gatherings, wafted toward him, further piquing his interest.

Although Nathaniel didn’t recognize the man, the stranger seemed to hold a familiarity that left Nathaniel feeling at a disadvantage. The noble spoke of the beautiful youths participating in the Aurelia contest and referenced Nathaniel’s status as the runner-up, sparking memories he had tried to push aside. The recollection of the contest flooded back with vivid clarity: awkward conversations, forced smiles, and the constant sensation of being on display, all of which made him feel annoyed since the entire ordeal was orchestrated by his older sister, Isabelle. Winning had never truly mattered to him; murmurs had swirled among the aristocracy regarding bribery for votes that had elevated the eventual victor. What had that winner’s name been? He closed his eyes briefly, and suddenly it erupted forth from the recesses of memory: Ayel Raunefeldt.

” You are correct about my losing the contest,” Nathaniel replied, his tone weary yet polite as he played along with the noble's overture. “But then again, we would stood no chance against the Prince of Aurelia, if he wanted to take part of he wasn't busy.” he added with a light chuckle, attempting to brush aside some of Ayel's self-satisfied bragging. Yet, just as he began to pivot the conversation, Ayel posed a question that made Nathaniel pause.

“No, nothing like that,” Nathaniel replied, a realization dawning. He was burning time standing here. “I was trying to catch up to someone important.” Perhaps it was true; after all, time pressed upon him. As he refocused on Ayel, fleeting memories surfaced regarding their families—both from prestigious backgrounds, his family well-known for their extensive trading company with which Nathaniel’s family had frequently done business. However, when Ayel declared himself to be the Prince's best friend, it struck Nathaniel as absurd, a flagrant embellishment. Still, he refrained from calling him out, sensing it was wiser to hold his tongue and avoid any potential insult.

With moments ticking away, he felt the urgency of his task bearing down on him.”I’m very sorry, Ayel,” he said earnestly, pivoting away from the man who was beginning to feel more like an obstacle. “But I’m in a hurry and need to act fast.”

Almost absentmindedly, he noticed Ayel extending his hand, a gesture of camaraderie and formality, wanting to shake. Nathaniel, quick-thinking and creative, conjured a low-level psychic spell, crafting an invisible hand that briefly grasped Ayel’s before releasing it.

”Eris!?” he shouted again, this time with greater determination as he quickened his pace, leaving the noble behind in the snow-draped silence, the chill reasserting itself as he moved forward, intent on finding his companion.

---

Interactions/Mentions: Eris @The Muse Ayel @Dezuel

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Gadez Paladice

Gadez had after awhile gathered up all the things he had used for the puppet theatre, including his other gear and weapons. People had begun to scatter abit and join in at dancing to the tunes of the bard.

At least his theatre had granted them a momentary reprieve of that poison. He wasn't the type of man who would find himself drawn in by the sweet melodies of that man. His ears could hear the tunes, but they would never reach his heart. No song would ever be able to compete with the melody he sought for, the deathsongs of the kingdoms and the sound of Auric as his rule would come to an end.

Gadez thought of the immense irony in that the Aurelian king would fall as a result of his own making. Dawnhaven may have been intended to be a trap made by two kings obsessed with power, they both were just two sides of the same coin, like Aelios and Seluna.

But Dawnhaven was the perfect place to topple the old order, to finally bring the eternal conflict of fire and ice to an end. Not by being a puppet or outpost of either kingdom, but to become a force to surpass them both.

The blightborn was surely intended to be a tool, but he had to make sure it wouldn't be a tool which would render the world unchanging. They would never fully be accepted by neither kingdom, after their role would been played they would be discarded. He would not allow that to happen.

The blight was not a divider, it was a unifier. The blightborn were typically stronger than the common man or woman too. Even in lower numbers a group of them could be a potent force to topple the world.

The blonde monk had attempted to test Prince Flynn, but without a result that was satisfactory. If Flynn wouldn't be the leader that Dawnhaven needed, that the blightborn needed, that the world craved. Then he knew that someone else had to take the role and lead the world to the day of reckoning.

Auric had to be destroyed, the old order of the world brought to ruin, all resemblence of border or distinguishment.... extinguished.

'Even if the road ahead is riddled with glass shards, some people chose to walk it believing sll the blood spilt and pain caused in the end will be worth it. I cannot allow myself to die just yet. Mother.' He mused in his head as he walked over to get himself a room at the inn, he settled on room four and placed his coins on the bar desk.

Then the ghostly eyed man made his way to said room, with key in hand. The inn room didn't strike him as anything extraordinary, but it would serve a purpose.

He placed down the puppet theatre parts, the various planks and nails would be good for boarding the door and windows later. But for now the room would be used for storage. He threw a glance to the bed.

'No rest for the wicked. No reprieve for the deceived.' He thought before he left the room, locking it behind him.

He needed to meet more people in Dawnhaven, especially the blightborn. If there was something he could be certain of, were that in the end of it all, they would be his allies. The two wretched kings would never accept them, therefor their only haven would lie with Dawnhaven. The third kingdom.

Their loyalty towards it and it's leader, whomever it would end up becoming.

Flynn was to be tested, as were Amaya. In the end, both could prove unable to fill the role asked for them.

What was it that it hidith within? A secret dangerous like sin. Written upon the skin, a symbol bore, protect the stone that can be turned to gold.

Upon a finger, a stone balancing, light of the sun within.

Gadez had initially wondered, where was Aelios, the sun when the world went dark. Seluna's gaze would be upon the world, empowered and looking for her foe eternal.

Perhaps it was because of intuition, or just who he were, the blonde man knew where Aelios were. She were, where she had always been. In the heart of her believers.

He had to go to the temple of Aelios again.

The blonde however stopped on his way out the inn, throwing a disapproving look towards Aldrick. As much as he would have liked to teach the bard a valuable lesson, this wasn't the time nor the place. Then Gadez eyes landed on Daphne.

"Well done on handling that drunkard earlier. He served as a fine example however that poison can go to ones head... then again... so may other things." He said softly with a smile as he walked up slightly into her personal space, while passing her by.

"I am Gadez by the way, a gardener who makes sure things are tended for in this haven of dawn. You seem to possess quite the physical form, perhaps someday they'll erect something... for your achievements." He smiled softly over his shoulder, then setting his eyes on the door.

"Afraid I am abit... hardly pressed... for time at the moment, perhaps another time we may discuss the dangerous subject of... intoxication?" He said in an amused and teasing tone as he opened the door, giving Daphne a smile in the doorway.

Upon exiting the building he was met with a sight of a gathering looking over a man which looked abit worse for wear.

"Well, I suppose someone had a bad case of making the insides go outsides. Just a guess. A throw up into the air, quite literally. Well then, need any aid, miss fairhair?" He softly smiled not to Vellion, but to Aurora. His blonde hair blowing in the wind, his piercing blue eyes staring into hers, one hand by his belt, drumming lightly with his fingers against his thigh.

There seemed to be plenty of people about, but asking would surely aid in figuring out what kind of wonderful mess this were.

For a moment, Flynn considered pulling Amaya aside, his guilty conscience urging him to tell her everything. He quickly ran through several scenarios on how he might phrase it, but even in his mind he fumbled over the words. He needed more time to think it through. Now wasn’t the time. Plus, she was clearly busy.

His eyes narrowed, resting on the man on the ground, dark-haired and rough-looking. Concern etched across the faces of those around him, but the man’s attention laid fully on Amaya. The moment they locked eyes, the man’s expression shifted. He flashed her a sly mischievous smirk—small, but unmistakably suggestive—directed right at her. Flynn couldn't hear what they were saying, the conversation muted by the distance and the ambient noise of the tavern crowd, but the man's intentions were clear enough. He was flirting with her—boldly, and without a care.

A strange feeling coiled inside Flynn, a sharp irritation that he hadn’t anticipated. Civilians flirting with royalty wasn’t uncommon, especially when it came to someone as striking as Amaya. He had seen it happen with his sisters before, and encountered it himself countless times. Typically he would have brushed it off without a second thought. But this felt different.

The way the man looked at her, the easy confidence in his smile—it stirred something deeper. He tried to push the feeling aside, reminding himself that he had more pressing matters to deal with. And what right did he have in getting jealous? Hell, he didn't even know what the man had said and was jumping to conclusions. Yet, despite his best efforts, the irritation lingered, a subtle burn that gnawed at him.

His gaze shifted to Amaya, who stood just a few feet from the man. He studied her expression, searching for any hint of amusement or familiarity between them. But her face remained as composed and unreadable as ever, cool and detached. A flicker of relief passed through him. At least this man hadn’t managed to crack through her icy exterior any more than he himself ever could, he supposed.

Reminding himself that he needed to focus on his ever growing task list, his mind drifted to the Priestess, Tia. Eris had told him that she somehow knew about Willis' blood. But how? The question nagged at him. Tia seemed to know more than she was letting on. He needed to ask her directly, but he had not seen her among the crowd earlier. He guessed she was likely still at the temple, tending to her duties. Tia didn’t strike him as the social type, especially with the scar around her neck that she did her best to hide. Still, after a week of isolation, he half-expected she might want some company. But if she wasn’t here, then heading to the temple seemed like the most logical step.

He hesitated for a moment, aware that he should tell Amaya where he was going. Though he often appreciated her company, the thought of her wanting to accompany him right now only added to his tension. He needed to be alone right now—to process everything that had happened. He intended to tell her about the blight discovery and Nyla, but later—when they could be alone. When he knew what to say and how to say it. For now, he’d have to keep the conversation short and sweet.

Flynn approached Amaya quietly, placing a hand gently on the small of her back to draw her attention as he moved to her side. And perhaps—unconsciously—he was subtly marking his familiarity with her, too.

She turned to him, and he offered a brief, apologetic smile before addressing the group. “Apologies for the interruption.” he said politely, as he overheard a woman offering to heal the man on the ground. Flynn’s eyes swept over the faces gathered around, bowing his head slightly in apology before he met Amaya’s gaze again.

“I’m heading to the Aelios temple to speak with the Priestess about something,” he said in a low voice meant only for her. “But I’ll be back for you in a little bit.” His tone was calm, offering her a moment of reassurance before he straightened and addressed the group again.

"I’m sorry I can’t stay longer," Flynn said, his gaze briefly meeting the dark-haired man. "But rest assured, we have skilled healers here who can see to you." His eyes swept over the rest of the group, offering a warm, apologetic smile again before he turned to leave. As he did, Flynn caught a glimpse of Gadez—Halcyon—slipping out of the tavern just as left the group. Flynn's pace slowed slightly, an unsettling tension creeping into his thoughts as he wondered if it was still safe to leave Amaya in his presence. Technically, Halcyon hadn’t actually done anything to indicate that he was violent, but… Flynn shook off the thought, reminding himself that the entire area was surrounded by guards who were trained to keep an eye on the Princess. Not only that, but he had witnessed Amaya’s magical strength with his own eyes. She could certainly handle herself, if she had to.

Rounding another corner that led toward the northern side of town, Flynn began heading towards the temple. The streets were relatively quiet, only the occasional guard patrolling in the distance, and Flynn found the stillness soothing in contrast to the chaos inside his head. It seemed most of the town was still gathered in or around the tavern, the warmth and camaraderie pulling them in after the week-long blizzard.

Flynn's mind churned as he made his way through the icy roads, eventually settling on Halcyon—the strange man with that unsettling grin and mischievous blue eyes. He couldn't quite get a read on him. Ally? Enemy? Maybe both, whenever it suited him. Something about him felt dangerous but useful—Flynn would have to ask Orion to dig into the man’s background.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling Halcyon always left him with, Flynn approached the temple, where the warm steam from the hot springs behind it rose in the distance under the pale light of the full moon. His thoughts drifted to his last conversation with Tia—the way he had guided her hands to his body, showing her exactly where to strike if his time ever came. If he were to ever speak to Aelios again, he’d pray that the memory would stick with Tia too, so that she could make his death a swift one.

He had been so hopeless then, certain he’d face an early end. But now, he had a glimmer of hope. He had information that could lead them to a cure, or at the very least, stop more deaths. Somehow, Tia had known where to look before anyone else.

Entering the temple, Flynn was greeted by the warmth of the eternal flame inside. His boots creaked against the wooden floor, snow melting off in little puddles as he made his way toward the flame. He glanced around the temple, expecting to see Tia tending to the flame, but the place was eerily quiet.

When he reached the brazier in the middle of the room, Flynn stood there for a moment, letting the heat chase the lingering cold from his bones. He glanced down the nearest corridor that led to the private rooms. Was she really still asleep? Enough time had passed that it must be well into the afternoon by now, yet she hadn’t stirred? Then again, he had no doubt people's sleeping schedules had been thrown off with the absence of the sun. Still, Flynn frowned. The idea of waking her seemed wrong, yet waiting for her felt just as awkward. It wasn’t often that royalty sat waiting for anyone, and it usually made people uncomfortable when he loitered for too long as they felt the need to cater to his every need.

With a sigh, Flynn found a seat on one of the pews near the eternal flame. For now, he’d wait. At least it was quiet here, the kind of quiet that allowed him to organize his thoughts. He stared into the fire, his mind drifting to the upcoming journey to the blight lands that he'd need to plan out. There were so many decisions to make—who to bring, what to prepare.

Flynn rubbed a hand over his face, trying to push the weight of it all aside for just a moment. He had to focus. How he felt didn’t matter. When had it ever?

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_{Interactions: Vellion @Dark Light, Amaya @c3p-0h
Mentions: Halcyon @Dezuel, Aurora @BlackRoseSiren, Valthyr @Fetzen, Elara @Qia}

Eris trudged through the dark, icy streets, the frozen ground crunching beneath her boots. The torch lights flickered faintly along the path, guiding her toward the residential area on the west side of town. Wrapped snugly in her flaming coat, she barely felt the biting cold around her. The magical warmth from the coat radiated out, a protective barrier against winter.

Still, her thoughts refused to settle. Despite her best efforts, her mind kept wandering back to the tavern, back to Daphne, who was no doubt charming Nathaniel with her confident words and striking presence. What flirtatious words might be passing between them right now? Eris clenched her jaw, pushing the image out of her head. There was no point dwelling on any of that. She had more important things to think about.

She shifted her focus, mentally listing everything she needed for the expedition. Number one was this coat, of course. But what else? She wished she had Aurelian-made clothing that were better suited for winter, something sturdier for the harsh elements. Perhaps there were some warm Lunarian imports she could purchase in town. Or maybe Ivor could hunt down a fur pelt for her. That would help.

Then there was the matter of food. They'd have to ration carefully, especially if the group was large. How long would they be out there? What would they even find? Her thoughts flicked to weapons. She’d never been trained with a sword. She knew both defensive and offensive magic, yes, but without the sun, it would be extremely risky to rely on it.

A dagger might be a better option—lightweight, easy to carry. She could buy one from the local blacksmith and at least try to defend herself, if it came to that. But even the thought of wielding it made her nervous. Could she really stab someone—or something if it came to it? Her breath fogged in the frigid air as her heart raced a little at the thought of combat. She had never been much of a fighter. The uncertainty of it all made nerves bundle in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. She would manage. She had to.

Just then, her thoughts were interrupted by a voice cutting through the chilled air, calling her name. The sound startled her, and she stopped in her tracks. She glanced around the dark streets, eyes squinting as she peered into the shadows. The torches barely illuminated the area beyond a few feet, and most of the surrounding landscape was swallowed in darkness. Was she imagining things?

But then, in the distance, she spotted two figures standing beside a carriage. One of them... was that Nathaniel? She focused on them, trying to make out their faces. The silhouette seemed to match his stature, at least. Her heart fluttered unexpectedly. Had he really left Daphne to come after her? A foolish move on his part, but the thought brought a small smile to her lips.

She watched as the shorter figure—Nathaniel—called her name again, a conjured magical hand extending to shake the hand of the other person beside him. She hesitated for a moment, her mind reminding her of the work that awaited her in the Alchemy Chambers. But it would be so rude of her to keep walking away…

"I'm here!" she called back to him, carefully making her way over the icy road. She was determined not to slip and make a fool of herself again—especially not in front of Nathaniel.

When she finally reached them, she stopped, her breath catching slightly as she recognized the other figure standing with Nathaniel. "Oh!" she exclaimed, surprised. She quickly bowed, instinctively respectful. "Lord Raunefeldt. I wasn’t expecting to see you here in Dawnhaven."

She straightened, meeting Ayel’s gaze. She didn’t know him well, and they had never interacted directly, but his reputation preceded him. His family was renowned, closely tied to the royal family. Their connection to the royals was often discussed in noble circles, and her own mother had always held a complicated, if not cold, relationship with Ayel’s mother. Eris, however, maintained a polite facade, knowing the importance of such connections.

"My name is Eris Hightower, lead Sage here. I heard your family recently donated a large sum to the Research Academy," she continued, offering him a sincere smile. “Thank you so much. Your family’s support means a great deal to our efforts here, and I’ll do my best to ensure that the funds go to good use.”

She bowed again, deeply, showing her respect for his family's generosity. When she rose, she stole a glance at Nathaniel, who didn’t seem particularly thrilled, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. Was it Ayel’s presence that bothered him? She had heard about Ayel’s rather abrasive nature, so it wouldn’t surprise her. Had Ayel said something to upset him? Or was it her that upset him? Her mind raced, but she pushed the thoughts aside for now.

Turning back to Ayel, she offered a small smile. “There’s a feast at the tavern, hosted by the Prince. You should join everyone inside for food and warmth before you catch a cold out here.” She gestured toward the tavern, hoping to steer the conversation in a lighter direction as she tried to gauge the undercurrent of tension between the two men.

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_{Interactions: Nathaniel @Echotech71, Ayel @Dezuel}

_{Interactions/Mentions: @c3p-0h Amaya, @Dark Light Vellion, @BlackRoseSiren Aurora, @Fetzen Valthyr, @The Muse Flynn, @Dezuel Gadez}

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_{Interactions/Mentions:@The Muse Kira, @PrinceAlexus Sya}

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Ayel Raunefeldt

'Ofcourse I am correct.' He mentally rolled his eyes at the remark, when had he ever been wrong? To commit errors was for the poor and uneducated, like his servant Faldrin. The mention of the prince, his bestest friend possibly partaking in a contest of beauty had made Ayel blink quickly. Lord Stormlight had tried to joke that the prince had an actual chance to compete against him on a matter of beauty. It caused Ayel to give off a genuine chuckle. His bestest friend was royalty, rich and had a way with seeing obvious talent, but to outshine -him- of all people in a contest of being stunning? Poppycock!

Nathaniel seemed to however be in some hurry, needing to act fast? Was he trying to pretend to be quick, or was he trying to be a speedy performer, whichever of the two, Ayel couldn't decipher. It didn't matter. He wasn't much for theatrics, those plays drew attention away from things that truly mattered. Himself. He did have a fond memory of a play though, where he had placed himself with his large hat in a location that he would be in constant view by the onlookers and make the performers seem like mere background characters. Then again. Weren't they all?

His thoughts snapped back to the present as he heard his first name being uttered by Nathaniel. He was feeling so close with him already that he started to use first names? Ayel felt satisfied. He was so charismatic that people would befriend him at first meeting, just like that. He truly had an excellent hand with people, if only the prince would let him aid in expanding and correcting Dawnhaven, there would be wonders to be had. He could already imagine the fountains and statues depicting himself and with his bestest friend, the prince standing on a statue next to him. Albeit abit shorter. Power could corrupt people. He had to carefully make sure that his good friend the prince wouldn't get out of hand with his choices, like having a charity day… or peasant day. That would be awful.

The noble before him was such a refreshing change from the common leech and filthy vagabond he had met so far, he had even gone as far as to respect his personal preferences and made a handshake of invisible magic. Impressive. Lord Stormlight did indeed seem schooled in the right ways to treat someone of his worth. This was how he should be treated. But the nobleman got pulled out of his thoughts again as Nathaniel yelled for someone called Eris.

Eris? He recalled someone being named that. Was it some scandalous new-noble or someone of actual importance? He didn't have to think for long before a young lady approached them. She had heard of him aswell. Now this was more like it. Ayel produced a satisfied smile as he straightened his back and raised his chin to make certain she could admire all his noble features, an almost impossibility as there was so much of him to go around. But he knew he had to offer the best view for possible admirers.

"Aha ha ha! Hah… ahh.. Oooh yes, I do have a habit of being bold, adventurous and leading the charge so to put it! Aha hah hah." He offered some obnoxious laughs as he stroked the ruffle at his shirt, fondling the little broché depicting his own face in profile.

"Lady Hightower? Truly? Charmed I am sure. I do recall your family name, ahh such fortune meeting fellow highborns here." He said before the word she had uttered finally landed in his mind. Donated? DONATED?! A large sum. He felt lightheaded as if he was going to faint any moment. He could see stars in front of his eyes.

He felt a chill down his spine, then how a sweatdrop was trying to form at his forehead. His shirt suddenly got alot more humid and warm. Was he having a panic- No definitely not. He was a calm and collected nobleman. He was just abit startled. He felt a sudden sense of relief on hearing one of his safe-words.

'Ahhhhhhhh! Funding! Ofcourse!' He mentally chanted to himself as he felt the burden fall off his shoulder. The very idea of donating things for some charity, 'noble cause' or to... the poor. He would have none of that! He had a reputation to think of.

"Ahhh yes! The funding, well ofcourse. Yes, it lies in both of our families interests and that of our noble Aurelian kingdom! Remind me again, what was this research about? I have so many.. uhmm… funding projects." He said as he tried to think about what manner of other things he had funded. Most of the things he was funding was groups intending to make the rich richer and the poor get in line. The good and noble stuff.

"This is the second time I hear about this feast, is it true then? My best friend, his royal highness is the host of this… peasant festival? Ohohoho. Oh no, no no no. I will not go into that place. It's like a menagerie no doubt. I saw the inn had it's own… what do you call those again? Performers tend to have monkeys dancing while they play their noisy instruments. This inn seems to have some snake-woman creature. She even tried to convince me that she were the owner. As if my dear friend would allow that abominable creature waltz around and looking awful like that to begin with. I saw her pale-looking chisel-faced tamer at the local hot spring, he was in the middle of trying to clean her and some other mistake-looking woman with orange eyes. Best be on your guard here my fellow highborns, these opportunistic lowborn will try -anything- to get us into trouble. Give them a single apple, and soon enough they ask for the entire tree!" Ayel said in an upset manner, but he was clearly trying to make a point. He tightened his hand as if trying to squeeze and imaginary thing.

"They'll bleed us dry if we'll let them. Also is it true that the prince has truly married a barbarian? I find this truly unbelievable." He shook his head in disbelief and seemed actually hurt by the fact.

@The Muse@Echotech71

Sya listened quietly as she made herself fully comfortable letting her own tail be used to rest against and lying partly on her side, plus the amount she drank was more than enough to make the woman tipsy. Sya, Eris, Ayel had all hit her harder than one thing and all 3 had been too much to handle in such a short time. it felt strange but good as she quietly nodded and learned, she still had an innkeeper! No matter what Ayel said, it was her Inn.

She was respectful and let him tell his story unbroken, it seemed she felt more kinship to the noble advisor than she thought was possible. Kiara who always seemed more of a loner and heavily guarded, like many she probably had trauma that ran deep and ws hard to break. He had suffered similar trials and the Prince had some quiet virtues she recognised from her own experience that was more than a one off charity and a deeper aspect of his personality. As she tended to Inn and did not have such a personal relationship Sya did not access him in such a less guarded manner, when he was out and about he was the Prince, leader and entirely confident man who formed the town.

Sya looked over at them a little curious With her big blue eye, closed it and then reopened making her decision. The alcohol in her system was probably helping this, definitely helping her open this side of her. She was speaking softly and her voice switched more native to her language. “I.. I.. I am from a region that no longer exists, it's all blight, I'm probably in all certainty the last of my kin.

Thornsrock, the castle sat upon a high rocky lump I guess, the settlement below, villages about, a Border Lord, we traded with Auralia. It's all ruins and ash now.”

Sya opened up and explained in more detail so her later part made more sense, she had to explain… she had to make it make sense. “Its… not quite the same. My Father was a blacksmith, he made fine work, and likely would have prospered more somewhere in the Kingdoms.

When I… changed and woke up, well… like I am, before I changed again. He was working on a commission for a lordssss son, I have that blade, it kept me alive, when I came across the Prince too. I had to face it all alone, the woods whispered, such terrible things, i fled… i… do not enter those cursed lands. I hear the darkness there or so it seems. Its malignant and…. Wrong. I'm not sure how I made it to be honest. Just another step.” She said her story running back to a point of Orions.

Sya did not easily admit that she could sense the blight when she was in fallen lands, they tried to lure her, make her forget her mind and humanity. It tried to drag her down into the darkness and the despair that emanated from the miles of fallen towns, dead forests and miles of twisted and corrupted farm lands.

“The Prince saved me, He gave me a chance, he seems to have a rare noble soul. I helped run the smithy book, paid people, and collected money. Inbetween distracting a cute stable boy who grew into a handsome man and a farrier.” Sya gave a sad yet also soft sigh about that memory, if the blight had not come they might have made a life together.

“He had excellent fingers and learned how to use them, comfortingly muscled to cuddle to. He grew up very nicely, tall enough to tip toe.” Sya said with a cheeky grin to Kiara, much as she did not know her well, her more playful, impulsive side came out more like the old Sya. “I'm sure you know what I mean.” She added a little more conspiratoriality to the other woman.

She paused, unsure what to say, she rarely ever was this open or detailed about her past but present company felt right, it felt therapeutic to let her secrets out. “So, I kind of took over the Inn, he seemed to think i fit, as much as fit anywhere these days. He trusted me, even as an blightborn.” Sya said with a snort, waving her tails more slender, tip out the water playfully saying hello showing her heart began to ease a little.

It also grew more animated acting alongside her emotions and actions vs hiding and being far more passive before.

“Thankyou, for reminding me, i'm not a monster, even if others seem to be in shock or scared. I hope Eris remains my friend, i come to enjoy her company these past weeks. Gadez is a challenge but she is.. different. ” Sya said with deep thanks, she needed this and needed to let her feelings out. She felt calmer now and the tension visible in tail plus her bright blue eye that could not hide emotions or her mental state.

The snake woman breathed more slowly and easily as she watched them with her bright blue Single eye, more of the spark of curiosity and Sya nature that made her place the Inn.

Mentions
@The Muse@Qia

Kira smirked at Orion’s reply, her lips curving with sly amusement. “A night or two?” she teased, her voice carrying a sultry tone to it now. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” She let the innuendo hang between them for a beat, enjoying the light tension it created. It almost felt like old times. Finding herself next to another noble, whispering sweet nothings in their ear. Coaxing secrets from their lips.

But as Orion began to open up about the Prince and how Flynn had given him another chance—trusted him when others didn’t—the mischief slowly drained from her expression. She hadn’t expected Orion to open up about his past with the Prince, much less with such honesty. It was clear there was deep loyalty there. He wasn’t there just for show, then. They truly had a bond of some sort.

A flicker of something like jealousy stirred in her chest. Every position she’d ever held had been out of necessity, driven by obligation or survival—never because she truly cared for the one giving the orders. Instinctively, she was mindful about committing all his words to memory. Though, she did not know who she was being so meticulous for anymore. She no longer sold secrets in exchange for her soul, yet it felt natural.

Kira wasn’t one to bare her soul so freely, but what Orion described aligned with the version of the Prince she had encountered. Flynn had given her another chance too, despite knowing little about her beyond the surface. She had gone through with his little interview he conducted on all blight-born, but she had revealed only enough to satisfy him and make him believe she was trustworthy. To her, he seemed rather naive and idealistic, yet still kinder than any noble she had ever met—let alone royalty.

The royals and nobility in Lunaris were far from kind—cold and calculating was more accurate. Flynn’s warmth had been disarming at first, but Kira had learned long ago that kindness often concealed ulterior motives. There was always an angle. Always something hidden beneath the surface. Flynn’s efforts to build Dawnhaven as a haven for blight-born was admirable, but she could see desperation clung to him like a shadow. The prophecy levied against him looming overhead. She didn’t blame him, but he wasn’t doing this out of the pure kindness of his heart. Flynn, with all his supposed benevolence, couldn’t be exempt from suspicion. No one was.

When Orion turned the question back on her, asking if she had any connections from her past that she treasured, Kira’s body instinctively tensed. She didn’t care for questions like these, ones that probed too close to things she preferred to keep buried. In the past, she would have shifted the conversation with ease, steering it back into safer waters, charming her way out of answering. She could tell them a lie or five, fabricating another life she had never lived. She had been good at that—using her looks, her wit, her body language to disarm people, to enchant them. To keep them exactly where she wanted them.

But now, after everything that had happened, it felt harder to grasp that part of herself. Deep down it was still there, yet it would slip through her fingers when she needed it most.

Her amber eyes dropped to the water, watching the gentle ripples without really seeing them. She didn’t respond right away, her mind grappling with memories she’d long buried, feelings she’d shut away. Elara.

For a moment, she thought about how much isolation had changed her. Perhaps even more than the blight. It was as if the parts of her that had once been sharp and magnetic were dulled, eroded by time and solitude. She could feel herself clamming up, her usual defenses rising like an impenetrable wall.

Thankfully, Sya began to speak, offering a welcome distraction. Kira looked at her with a sense of relief, letting the conversation flow away from her, thankful that she hadn’t been pressed to speak first.

Kira listened quietly, though Sya’s story didn’t surprise her. It was a familiar one—entire towns swallowed by blight, bloodlines erased, families shattered. Kira had heard versions of it before, countless times across Lunaris. Even Kira had been a victim of a similar story, a village lost just as quickly. Royals turned a blind eye, whether out of indifference or malice, it didn’t matter. The result was the same. The loss was the same.

She grabbed the bottle Orion had set beside him and took another drink, her movements steady and deliberate, lacking the hesitation she had noted in Orion’s earlier. As Sya spoke about the stable boy she might have had a life with, Kira offered a closed-lip smile when their eyes met, one of feigned amusement and understanding. Sya was clearly trying to connect with her, but the effort missed its mark.

Kira had never understood the desire to talk about men in such a gossipy way, though she knew it was popular, especially within the noble circles. In the past she’d fake interest and indulge people if it got her the information she needed. But to her it was childish. Perhaps it was because she had never grown up with the same experiences as other teenage girls. Gossiping about boys seemed trivial—stupid, even. Sya’s attempt at bonding felt foreign, though Kira wouldn’t let her know that.

When Sya finished, Kira sensed the unspoken expectation in the air, as if Sya and Orion were waiting for her to share her own story. To spill her soul just as Sya had. Yeah, right. Kira wasn’t about to unravel her own scars for strangers, no matter how much she might relate to their stories. She wasn’t that foolish.

Sidestepping the question entirely, she reached inward and attempted to grasp that charisma she had once wielded with such ease. She shifted in her seat, leaning forward to offer Sya the bottle of wine. "You're doing a good job running the inn." Kira said with a small, practiced smile, trying to inject some warmth into her voice. "The Prince made a good choice in you." She shifted her gaze to Orion, adding, “In both of you.”

As Sya took the bottle, Kira settled back, hoping no one would press her for more. Still, she knew she couldn’t leave it at that. It wasn’t enough to derail the topic at hand. She needed to say something bolder, something that would disarm them and make them focus on themselves again. Although none of them were human anymore, blight-born still shared similar flaws—people loved to talk about themselves.

"Maybe you'll find another tall stable boy around here." she added, a teasing edge in her voice as she played off Sya’s earlier comment. Her gaze slid to Orion, her lips in a mischievous smirk once more. "And what about you? Are you in the market for a stable boy too?" she joked, her tone playfully casual. She knew he was treading dangerous waters—talking about loved ones with fellow blight-born who had likely lost everything—but Sya had been the one to bring up the topic, and Kira knew it’d work to shift the focus. At least for a moment. Anything to keep the conversation from lingering on her.

The past could stay where it belonged—buried. At least, for tonight.

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

Nathaniel Stormlight

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Location: The streets of Dawnhaven.

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As time dragged on, Nathaniel felt the icy grip he had been desperately trying to fend off seep into his body, chilling him to the core. He clenched his jaw tightly, his frosty breath swirling in delicate clouds that hung in the frigid air around him. The thought of casting another spell flickered in his mind, but he quickly dismissed it; he knew it would be reckless. Though his reservoirs of magic were vast, he feared the potential consequences of overexerting himself.

Suddenly, a figure emerged in the distance, slicing through the shadows and drawing closer with each step. The echo of Ayel's boastful voice filled the air, drowning out the approaching presence for a moment. As the figure stepped into the soft glow of the dimly lit torches that lined the ice-coated streets, Nathaniel felt a glimmer of hope wash over him. Eris. A faint smile broke free from the corners of his mouth as he watched her graceful approach, her presence igniting a warmth within him that stood in stark contrast to the winter chill.

With a subtle flick of his wrist, the ethereal astral hand that had been firmly shaking Ayel slowly faded into a shimmer of transparency before dissipating completely. The dynamic between them shifted as Eris spoke, her voice light yet determined, mentioning the considerable donations the Ayel family had funnelled into research on the blight. Nathaniel’s mind raced back to whispers he had caught of the House of Raunefeldt—wealthy and influential, always eager to lend a hand if it came with a side of self-aggrandizement and the promise of glory. Yet, despite their ulterior motives, this funding brought a spark of hope to the community.

Caught in a moment of surreal reflection, Nathaniel glanced at Ayel. Here they stood: three youths descended from powerful noble lines, each marked by the weight of their family names, poised to illuminate the darkened path ahead. Yet, when Ayel mentioned the tavern, Nathaniel felt a smirk rise within him; why would he ever frequent a place that had never changed? As his mind wandered, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach, remembering the saying about apples and trees. He took a deep breath, his hand clenching into a fist, and steeled himself.

”My dear nobleman,” he began, unsure of the direction his words would take but buoyed by a newfound inspiration. ”You may find a way to bring sophistication to that tavern.” It was a calculated jab at Ayel's ego, a strategic manoeuvre he hoped would resonate and get him to leave. ”I attempted to captivate the crowd myself, but alas, I fell short. Yet you— you possess an undeniable charm. You can command the attention of anyone in the room” He paused, letting the weight of his compliment settle in the air. ”Buy a few rounds for everyone, and they shall treat you as the royal figure you truly are.”

As his gaze shifted back to Eris, he caught sight of her flushed cheeks, warmth blooming against the backdrop of the wintry evening. His heart raced unexpectedly at this sight. What was causing this reaction within him? ”Eris,” he began, hesitating as he searched for the right words to express his thoughts. ”Since it's my first day here, might you consider taking me on a tour of the Alchemic Chambers? Since we'll need to plan on that task.”

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Interactions: Eris @The Muse Ayel @Dezuel

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She could only watch as Tia’s lips moved in a silent call, Ranni able to read her lips well enough to know the voiceless words had been her own name. She froze and stiffened slightly at the touch of Tia’s hand to her cheek, not having expected the slight shake and wariness she could feel in said touch. Her mind, somehow, could feel the trepidation and myriad of negative emotions racing through Tia. Ranni couldn’t explain how, but she just knew her former teacher was suffering. She chewed her lip nervously, uncertain of what she should do… not when the very woman who’d always been her example for what should be done was the one who seemed so uneasy. You have to do something! she screamed at herself, even as her mind remained in that dreadful deadlock.

Then her violet eyes went wide as she saw the tears moving down Tia’s cheeks.

Yet she didn’t have a second to react, with arms wrapping around her and pulling Ranni into a tight hug. Immediately, the younger Priestess returned the embrace, holding Tia as close as she could. The trembling in her mentor’s body caused Ranni to gently rub Tia’s back as they embraced one another. The girl tried desperately to provide the very warmth and comfort she so desperately needed now to another. Somebody in even more need. Subconsciously, her mind emanated the kind of false reassurances she’d offer another… and a genuine feeling of comfort. Comfort that only came from being reunited with one's own loved ones. Her tail flicked behind herself, unable to control itself as that myriad of emotions ran through Ranni’s mind… even as she remained silent and held the embrace.

”You were here,” Ranni whispered through their embrace, smiling against herself even through tears running down her cheeks. ”I missed you,” she added, before falling silent once more and simply enjoying their embrace… while musing to herself about how her mentor seemed to have changed in these short two months.

Yet, she knew not what traumas Tia must’ve endured; obvious as it was that she had endured some terrible circumstance. In the end, however, the specifics mattered not. Only one aspect, mutual between the two now, mattered;

They’d both suffered.

They’d both endured.

They would support each other. It was the only way either could truly make it through their trials.

When Tia pulled away from Ranni, her skin was blotchy and red, her cheeks damp. They still held each other – but there was just enough space now for Tia to look up again at her student’s face. She let out a wet, choked laugh. Her emotions were a tangled mess, an overwhelming mix of grief and joy and confusion. She brought both hands up to cup Ranni’s cheeks, thumbs moving softly. Then she hesitated.

She almost didn’t want to ask.

Looking up at Ranni, she steeled herself and mouthed Dyna’s name, hope and worry in her eyes.

Ranni gave a weak, but persevering, smile towards Tia as she pulled away. Her hands moved up to cup Ranni’s cheek as the blightborn let out her own choked laugh at seeing Tia again. She knew, somehow, that her mentor was experiencing a veritable tempest of emotional turmoil inside even while they held each other. Ranni tried to portray calm, best she could, and focused carefully on Tia’s lips as she mouthed Dyna’s name.

In response, Ranni’s eyes widened. ”Aelios… I may have ran off on impulse and left her at the tavern.” Ranni said softly, wearing a sheepish smile, even as the distant sounds of somebody in armor running towards them grew louder and louder…

Tia practically deflated in relief. When she sank back into Ranni’s embrace this time, it was the feeling of letting go, of tension leaving her, rather than the desperate way she’d clung to her student the first time.

Dyna was here, too. She was safe. They were both safe.

The jostling of metal and crunching snow echoed through the winter air. Tia finally pulled away from Ranni fully – though still within easy reach of her, like she might disappear if Tia strayed too far. A warm smile broke across her face as Dyna’s armor caught in the moonlight. Tia raised a hand, waving to catch her attention.

Turning in the direction of hefty stomps, Ranni found herself looking just in time to watch her sister coming into view. Not quite at a dead sprint, but making a good pace all the same. The two priestesses didn’t have to wait long, as Dyna quickly turned and made her way towards them. Her eyes grew wide as she closed in, seemingly shocked to see Tia standing there with Ranni.

Her attention first snapped towards her sister. ”How did you…?” She asked, recalling how Ranni had mentioned Tia by name earlier. Then her expression grew more stern as she seemingly remembered her role. ”You can’t rush off like that, Ranni. My job is to keep you safe!” Dyna said, hands on her hips as Ranni looked away sheepishly.

Then, without another word, the armored woman stepped in and wrapped Tia in a tight hug. ”Missed ya, bis sis.” She whispered softly.

Tia wrapped her arms around Dyna in turn, careful of her metal armor. But she was just so happy. After the stress and trauma and fear that seemed to encompass her life the past two months, having the twins back felt like coming home. Tia pulled away from Dyna just enough to reach up and give her hair a playful ruffle.

She’d had sisters once – she couldn’t remember the exact number anymore. Two? Three? There had been six other siblings in total, she knew, all older than her. But her life before the clergy seemed distant and abstract, like facts pulled out of a tome. Ranni and Dyna, though… they were as real as the snow dusting the top of her head.

Tia glanced over her shoulder back towards the springs. Mist billowed from the water at a leisurely pace, the remaining visitors having calmed considerably since the nobleman’s odd departure. It was… probably safe to leave, right? No great catastrophe would befall the springs if Tia wasn’t here? She turned back to look at the twins, too eager to be with them. The springs would be fine, she decided. Orion was good at keeping people calm, and Sya… well, Sya seemed to be coping. Tia still knew nothing about the woman with the fiery hair, but she seemed calm enough, now.

Smiling, Tia took Ranni and Dyna’s hands in her own. She gave a slight tug towards the temple, glancing at it, then back at the twins. She wanted to show them their new home – if they were staying.

Tia hoped they were staying.

The twins each gave Tia a little smile as she seemed to visibly be lighting up over the both of them being here. As she took their hands, the girls looked at each other as if asking an unspoken question. The two followed, and it was Ranni who broke the silence.

”Uhm… S-so, is it okay if I at least stay here, Tia?” She spoke up suddenly, gesturing towards her new growths as if still uneasy about their existence. ”I… I don’t know if I’d be allowed back as I am now…” She said, chewing her lower lip as her tail flicked with a mind of its own behind herself. A clear betrayal of the inner turmoil racing through the girl’s mind. ”I-I don’t know what's… changed.” She added, seemingly uncertain of what to say.

Tia’s smile faltered. Ranni was blightborn now. It was very possible – practically guaranteed, actually – that she shouldn’t have been allowed back. Not based on all the whispers she’d heard over the past several years about blightborn being corrupted and twisted.

Teeth flashed in her mind. Her scarf seemed heavy and too hot, sticky with her own blood.

The Arch Priest would be so… disappointed in her if he knew that she was too weak, too sentimental, to protect the sanctity of Aelios’ light. Anxiety wrapped its way around her heart, as she imagined his tired eyes glance over her, and he gave a quiet sigh.

But Tia didn’t know how to let go of Ranni’s hand.

She bit her lip. Then, releasing Dyna’s hand, she grabbed the end of her own hair – so blonde it was almost white, when it had once been a deep black color. She lifted the hair so it was between the three of them.

“We change.” Her voice was a weak rasp, when it had once been clear and smooth. Another reminder that Tia wasn’t who she’d been before, either. Dropping her hair, she pressed the tips of her fingers to the center of Ranni’s chest. “We remain.”

Maybe it was selfish to not turn Ranni away. Maybe it was an affront to Aelios. But… why bring Ranni and Dyna back to her if they weren’t meant to be together?

She gave Ranni’s hand a gentle squeeze. Another fragile smile.

Ranni took a small step back, eyes wide and visible surprise in her features as Tia showed off her own blonde hair… and the weak rasp of her voice rang in Ranni’s ears. The girl’s tail further flicked with nervous energy whenever Tia stepped in and touched her, but the words hit deeply within the girl’s mind. Looking away slightly, Ranni gave a small nod at the wisdom her mentor shared.

Of course. While she was physically changed, the soul and who she was inside hadn’t changed. The person at her core. The one who had been touched by Aelios’ light. That Ranni was still there, still the same. Just scared of what she’d been through, but still there. The Ranni that had sworn to serve Aelios’ will until her last… which she’d seemingly not yet drawn.

With a small nod, a gentle smile growing on her lips, she squeezed Tia’s hand in return. A little hint of that eager spark from so many years ago returning to her eyes. ”The people we are, at our cores, still remain. Y-you’re right, Tia.” She said softly, turning her attention up towards the temple. ”Then the girl who swore she’d make you, and Aelios, proud still remains. So I still must serve. T-then it’d be okay if I stayed, right?”

She hoped it was okay.

Tia’s smile grew less fragile. Warmer. And for a moment her heart was so full she thought it might overflow, with fresh tears to stain her cheeks. She brought Ranni’s hand up to press a kiss to her knuckles. Then she took up Dyna’s hand again to do the same to hers.

Something dark and nervous twitched in the back of her mind. The Arch Priest would be displeased, he’d be disappointed, he’d cast her away again —

The twins’ hands were warm in hers. They anchored her. She… she would just omit the news of their arrival in the next letter she wrote — oh sun above, the letters. another source of anxiety that twisted Tia’s heart.

But that could all be dealt with. The letters, the Arch Priest, the dreams… Tia didn’t know how, but it could be dealt with… right? She tried to not let her nerves show on her face, looking up at Ranni and Dyna with a smile growing strained.

Releasing them, she stepped between the two sisters and turned to face the temple. She held her hands out to both of them, hoping to move forward with each. When their hands were warm and secure around hers, Tia lead them up to their new home.

A wave of Aelios’ warmth embraced them as the door opened, brushing away the winter chill. Pulling the sisters inside, Tia glanced up to each of them, hoping to catch some sort of joy or comfort on their faces. She froze though when she realized the temple wasn’t empty.

Prince Flynn sat amongst the pews.

Ranni and Dyna each took one of Tia’s offered hands, following her into the temple as a certain weariness seemed to finally wash off the two. The return to something so familiar, reassuring, after their tumultuous experiences of the last few weeks providing a sort of second wind to the two girls.

Then Tia froze in place, and both girls poked their heads around the woman to look further into the temple, trying to figure out the cause.

The reaction of the two girls was nearly instant. With Dyna snapping to attention, remember the more martial training and tradition her sect often borrowed from more standard armed forces. Ranni, meanwhile, visibly jumped and moved to hide behind Tia. Clearly concerned for how the Prince might react to a Blightborn entering the church…

Perhaps their day was not yet done with the tumultuous twists and turns.

Flynn sat leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together as he stared into the eternal flame, lost in thought while the soft crackle of the fire filled the air. The flickering light danced across his face as he contemplated his responsibilities. At the sound of a nearby door creaking open, he was pulled from his thoughts. His gaze lifted as Tia entered the temple, her silhouette framed by the warm glow of Aelios’ flame. Two blonde women followed close behind her, both unfamiliar to him.

Tia seemed to freeze in place, obviously shocked by his sudden presence. Another woman snapped to attention the moment she laid eyes on him, wearing the recognizable armor of Aelios' Champions. It seemed Tia had received some reinforcements to help her tend to the temple and keep her safe here, which was a relief.

The second unfamiliar woman, however, seemed to shrink back, trying her best to blend into Tia’s shadow. Flynn's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the horns protruding from behind Tia’s blonde hair and a swaying tail behind them. A Blightborn. He made a mental note of another new blight-born arrival in town—one he'd need to interview in due time. Strangely, she wore priestess robes. Had Tia lent her a spare set? Flynn’s brow furrowed as his gaze lingered on the Blightborn woman, who seemed too terrified to meet his eyes.

An awkward silence filled the temple, none of them speaking a word for a few heartbeats. His father would have stood in rigid silence with glaring eyes, demanding formalities until those who entered bowed to him first. Instead, Flynn sighed inwardly and rose from his seat. He gave them each a respectful nod, bowing his head to the three women, a gesture of greeting that was not required of him but felt more natural.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” he greeted, his voice warm but formal. His eyes briefly passed to the Champion of Aelios, whose stance spoke of her strict discipline. “At ease, Champion.”

Then his gaze shifted toward the one hiding behind Tia. Flynn tried to catch a glimpse of her face, but it remained buried in Tia’s shoulder, her tail twitching with nerves. The way she hid reminded him of his youngest sister, shy and timid Lilliana who dearly loved her eldest brother. It pulled at his heartstrings, and he felt the urge to reassure her, to tell her she was safe here and that he held no judgment against her. “Welcome to Dawnhaven, both of you.” he simply offered instead, a faint smile reaching his lips.

Shifting his focus back to Tia, he hesitated, studying her familiar face. She still seemed surprised by his presence, as though she were bracing for impact. Did she already know why he was here? Had she expected him to confront her about the blight and had hoped to avoid it? He wondered how she was getting this information—or, more importantly, who was feeding it to her.

“Might I have a word with you, Priestess?” he asked, his gaze flicking toward the corridor that led to the private rooms, his head subtly tilting in that direction. “In private?” He added, meeting Tia’s eyes again, his expression not betraying any sort of emotion as he waited on her response.

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_{Interactions: Tia @c3p-0h Dyna, Ranni @Queen Arya}

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_{Location: Outside the Inn}

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Pretty words, pretty words, this strange man on the ground had sweet nothings to spare. His voice was smooth and lilting, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at her.

It’s not real, she reminded herself. Even still, her heart rate seemed to jump. The skin of her cheeks warmed despite her placid expression.

He was pointedly ignoring the blightborn woman, eyes growing a little sharper, smile a little tenser. Something faltered in Amaya. He seemed disgusted by her very presence rather than heartened at the show of acceptance. Had… had she guessed wrong? Reading people had been her one skill in the palace as far as actual statecraft had gone — or at least, the one skill she’d been able to hone at all. Locked away as she’d been, Amaya had been denied any opportunity to practice the theory she learned in her lessons. She knew she was untested. But she’d thought when it came to individuals, at least…

And then that saccharine smile was aimed at her again, with his smooth voice and flowing words (Not for me, it’s not for me, I don’t matter, he just wants something) and a hand lifted towards her, open palmed.

Another body joined the crowd of people surrounding her. Guards, and good samaritans, and strangers with unfamiliar faces seemed to press in around her as frost gathered at her fingertips. The lack of walls around her suddenly felt dangerous, like she might drown in all the empty, boundless space. She was small and voiceless in a sea of people who expected her to be a princess, when she’d never been taught the role beyond a description she could read in a tome. Breath billowed out of her in a white fog. Fighting to keep her expression calm, Amaya looked up to find Elara, desperate for an anchor.

And then a familiar scent wafted over her: cologne. One that she’d learned to recognize over the past two months without realizing it, apparently.

It was the only warning she had before there was a slight pressure at the dip of her back. When she turned her head, it was to find green eyes. Flynn stood at her side. He was closer than was proper — but no, that wasn’t correct, was it? They were married. The ring heavy around her finger, counterpart to the one he wore, proved it. Who would tell him, Prince and Husband, that he could not be at his wife’s side? His warmth seeped into her at the proximity. And when he spoke, voice soft, head tilted down so he seemed to again wrap Amaya in his shadow —

I’ll be back for you.

He was gone before she could even grasp what was happening. The space at her side was suddenly cold, the air sucked out of Amaya’s lungs. It didn’t quite feel like abandonment.

And then Amaya forced herself back to the situation at hand. She was still surrounded by strangers. The disarming man was still on the ground, hand outstretched. Flynn — his sudden arrival, his departure, his soft voice — was irrelevant to the current situation. That he’d all but dragged her to this event only to then leave without her was simply another matter to deal with at a more convenient time.

He’ll be back. He said he’d be back.

Why did it matter what he said? More importantly, when had Amaya ever trusted in a man’s word without regretting it?

There was yet another body amongst the crowd — the smiling man with pale, piercing eyes. And immediately Amaya slammed her defenses back in place. Her poise was impeccable. Her expression was pleasant, if aloof. She’d been relieved to hear a note of caution in Elara’s voice when she’d addressed the injured man — distrust didn’t come naturally to Elara, a trait Amaya both envied and worried over. She glanced at her handmaiden, hoping to steady herself with the familiar presence. Amaya wanted to leave this suffocating crowd. But she wouldn’t leave Elara here.

Then again, her friend would probably be fine if she did. Amaya had always been the one out of place and unsure in a crowd.

She steeled herself. She would not run. Not after Flynn, not from the smiling man, not from the man on the ground. Instead she forced a soft smile on her face.

“The temple would welcome you, certainly,” she finally replied. She looked to the other newcomer — an unkempt man in too few layers for the frigid air. “Perhaps you could assist him there, if you’d like to help.”

Amaya looked down at the man on the ground. It was not her place, she knew to assist him to his feet. And she certainly didn’t want to approach him, with his honeyed words and sharp smile. With that heartbroken look he’d given her. She could simply order a guard to assist him. Her father wouldn’t have even entertained this exchange for as long as she had.

But her mother would’ve helped him to his feet.

Amaya hesitated a moment. Then she placed her hand in his to try and pull him up.

---

_{Interactions: Elara Moonshadow @Qia, Vellion Hurst @Dark Light, Aurora Halliwell @BlackRoseSiren, Flynn Astaros @The Muse, Gadez Paladice @Dezuel, Valthyr Naffron @Fetzen}

---

_{Location: The Sun Temple}

---

---

Reality slammed back into Tia at the sound of the Prince’s voice. Her eyes widened. She was being disrespectful. She almost fell over herself snapping into a low bow.

“Your Highness.” Her broken rasp, soft though it was, seemed to echo in time with the crackling flame. Her hands tightened around the twins’.

He… wanted to speak with her?

Her mind spun with the possibilities — few of them good. The happy bubble she’d been encased within at the arrival of Ranni and Dyna burst. Tia could practically see the sparkling remains dissipating in the air.

Still bowing, she looked up to see him framed between the strands of her pale hair. The scarf around her neck suddenly seemed too warm. She straightened from her bow, giving a nervous nod of her head. She glanced at the two sisters again. Dyna had snapped into familiar protocol, stiff and unyielding — and brittle. Ranni, meanwhile… her protégé looked like she was afraid she might get strung up and beaten for merely daring to enter the temple. Tia’s heart squeezed tight at the sight of the nervous sisters.

She couldn’t just be anxious Tia anymore — she had to be a role model again.

She relaxed her grip on their hands, so it was secure rather than desperate. She gave them another gentle squeeze. Waiting until they both looked to her, Tia smiled gently. Even as her heart seemed to hammer in her chest.

Finally releasing them, Tia eased the temple door closed. Then she lifted a hand towards the nearest pews, directing them to sit. With one last look — that she hoped was more reassuring than she felt — Tia made her way towards the Prince.

She gave another small bow of her head as she passed him and started leading the way down the hall he’d indicated.

Was… was she even supposed to be in front? He was the Prince. Was anyone supposed to walk before him? But she lived here, didn’t she need to lead him to the correct room? He’d had the temple built, why wouldn’t he know the correct path to the room? It wasn’t exactly a laberynth, there were two bedrooms, a private wash, and a linen closet back here, why wouldn’t he be expected to know —

Did he know about the letters? Was that why he wanted to speak? Tia hadn’t even sent the first one, it was still weighing down her inner robe pocket like an unlit firework, and she’d already been discovered!? Or the Queen was displeased that she’d taken so long, and she’d written to her son to reprimand Tia. What if it wasn’t about the letters at all? There’d been a feast this morning. Was he upset she hadn’t come? As a representative of the church, it was her responsibility to appear at official events, and if the Prince saw her failure to attend as an insult — especially since this was the second event in a row that she’d missed, and the last one had been to announce the death of the Lunarian Queen What if — oh burning sun above, it was because she’d touched him the last time. He was here to reprimand her and demand an apology for having the audacity to touch his face in a fit of temporary insanity. Emotionality? She’d been crying. She’d been exhausted. He’d looked so sad. Was he sad now? Angry? His face had given nothing away, and certainly it was possible he wasn’t upset with her, but —

Tia had spent the entirety of the short walk down the hallway spiraling. She blinked, realizing she stood at the far end of her own bed chamber. Her cheeks heated. Was it clean enough? The bed was made, at least. The small stack of papers she’d written her dreams on were carefully hidden away within the pages of a book in the bottom of her drawer seemed to glow in her mind — like their location would be obvious to the Prince. Turning, she saw the Prince on the other side of the room — his body between her and the door.

Tia gave a polite smile, trying to hide her nervousness. She gave another small bow. It stuttered though when she realized she’d left her notebook outside in the snow. She had more paper, of course — but the reminder of her own carelessness, of the scene she’d made in front of Orion, only added to her anxiety. The idea of having to write for the Prince, her deficiencies on full display, especially when this meeting seemed of a more serious nature, made her want to bury herself in the snow.

She swallowed, trying to focus on the muscles in her throat. They tightened with her heightened nerves.

“How may I serve the crown?” It was almost too many words at once. Her breath caught painfully against her ruined throat, her voice breaking on the last word.

---

_{Interaction: Flynn Astaros @The Muse, Ranni and Dyna Soleil @Queen Arya}

Ayel Raunefeldt

Honey. This man's words were honey.

Ayel was almost displeased that he was in fact not a useless commoner, because it was words such as these which could see you employed by someone like himself. The marquess could almost taste the aroma of truth in the air, it struck him that Lord Stormlight was a shy man. Choosing now to refer as Ayel as a 'dear nobleman' likely he felt embarassed about refering to him in such a familiar manner prior, after all, it wasn't every day a god in mortal form passed by and looked amazing. Nathaniel did bring out valuable points.

Sophisticating the tavern?

'Hmm. Like that tamer was cleansing the beasts at the hot spring. Perhaps that ill constructed abomination could be salvaged. What if I build a large walkway from my future home over towards it, it would give me a splendid overview of my best friend's border project. Of course the tavern section of my new home would have to be completely cleansed of any signs of peasants, rats and other beings of lesser standing.' The nobleman thought to himself, his gloved hand reaching his noble chin as he thought heavily on the subject.

"Now now. Don't sell yourself too short, Lord Stormlight. You are no peasant after all. But you do bring up a fair point. I do have this immense charm about myself don't I? Thinking of it, I don't think there's an angle that does me any injustice. And commanding the attention? I like that." He chuckled in evil joy.

'Bribing the peasantry? What a devious idea. Have the fools think you are… ugh… donating things, when you are in fact taking things from them. Like their liberties, land and rights. Marvelous. Lord Stormlight seemed to have experience in dealing with the peasant issue.' Ayel seemed to momentarily be caught by bliss as he answered Nathaniel without looking at him.

"Royalty hm? I would hate to intrude on my best friend's domain, but who am I to deny the people from what they want? I mean, look at me? I am simply…" He made a chef's kiss motion with his gloved hand.

"Alchemic chambers? Oh you should have my dear sister join you, she is overly interested in that sort of thing. She wears yellow dresses a lot, she just arrived in Dawnhaven. In fact I must insist you invite her along. That reminds me, I need to be elsewhere NOW." He said in a slightly urgent manner, as if reminded of something terrible looming nearby. "If either of you need any funding do let me know, I think we can come to some fine agreements. Perhaps there's some cure to remove the blighted ones -permanently-." He said dreamily as he moved his troublesome lock of hair out of his face.

@Echotech71@The Muse

_{Interactions/Mentions:@The Muse Kira, @PrinceAlexus Sya}

---

@BlackRoseSiren@c3p-0h@Qia@Fetzen

Vellion Hurst

---

Outside Eye of the Beholder.

---

Perhaps at the temple. He softly offered the healer, still giving little.

...

People were coming and going, complete conversations happening around him, hidden in glances and unsaid words, passing by on fleeting whispers. Yet on the floor he remain, a solitary hand held outstretched in waiting, suspended in the air, ignored... like a beggar seeking coin.
Everyone busied themselves and put focus elsewhere, and for a moment he truly believed that no one was going to offer him more than a few words. That thought was accompanied by a familiar sting, or, more like a prod, since the needle of loneliness and abandonment had long since dulled its point after stabbing him so many times before and no longer could stab as deep as it once did.

Perhaps no one would take his hand, but he hadn't really been offered out for just anyone. Then a grin grew in the corner of his lips, barely concealable, a brief flash, there and then gone. Born from the moment he saw it in her eyes, that change, a resolution to conflict. Perhaps he knew before even she did, and then he felt her soft delicate fingers slide over his.
Like a trap sprung, both of his hands snapped shut tightly around hers. happening so fast. The touch remain gentle yet firm and held a chill to it, he knew not from who it came. He quickly rose to his feet with a preternatural ease, clearly not requiring any of the assistance he had once so eagerly sought.

He had seen the interaction between her and that man, the familiarity in which they had shown, the touch they shared, the words whispered. He saw much in that coming and going. What transpired between them also had an interesting effect on all the others about, information he stored away for later consideration. For now, while that display might dissuade most others, it only further stoked Vellion's intentions.
Hands over hers he drew himself to her, or her to him, it was hard to tell. Standing over her he now look down, his dark eyes focused deeply and solely on hers, seeing into her, seeing through her, searching for the cracks in her facade, digging into her truths.

One of his long fingers gently touch her wrist and from there he could feel her pulse beating beneath the skin. Through it he felt connected to her in a way he couldn't describe. It was as if every thrum run right through his entirety. Every beat of her heart a hypnotic call. The rhythm of blood coursing through her veins was intoxicating, entrancing, enticing. For a moment it was all he could hear, and for a long moment there was only that, her deep beautiful eyes and his hunger.
He was already running on the mere fumes of his burnt mana so the next bit took every once of will power he ever mustered. As he look into her eyes he sought that thing he glimpse before. A feeling, an emotion that he had been prodding at. That sense of claustrophobia, the feeling of being over crowded. He search in her soul for it and push on that, trying to gently awaken it again.
If it worked he could make her feel more crowded than she already was. It would help justify why he stood so close. Why his breath nearly reach her skin. His kind gentle touch becoming an anchor in the sea of bodies. It would also help him with what he was to ask next. Feeling the frequent gaze of many guards, Vellion decided it was time to get out of here.

"My lady." He began with all his usual devilish charm. He pause to breath in through his nose. "I have never known a scent to so truly personify a person." He sniffs softly. "Fresh with a flowery grace, a sharp indomitable undertone but with pleasant roundness to it all." A teasing smirk crept across his lips.
"Were one permitted to say it, I think I'd have to describe it as radiant."

He close his eyes and breath through his nose once more, perhaps even leaning in a little as he did. Every pause while holding its own effect, also gave him room to calculate his next words, to read her reaction and adjust accordingly.
For most, the skill, or lack of, structuring and leading a conversation might make the difference between saving a few coins, earning favour and gossip or perhaps not spending the night alone. But for Vellion growing up on the streets, it was often the difference between starving for a few more days or getting a beating that would stay with him for weeks. For him, learning the skill felt like a necessity, it had often felt like the difference between life or death.

He had already loosely planted his intentions. Hand still in hand, he speaks softly to her.

"Do you have any where you need to be right now?"

Do not jump straight to the end goal. Eliminate an excuse early on. Take your time. From his experience a 'no' was easier to tease out than a 'yes'. It was less comital and came more naturally to people.

"You know your way around these streets?"

A yes response would be required to follow and balance things out, can't have a stream of 'no'. He would earn this with a simple validation question.
Then a rhetorical confirmation question. Quickly followed by a choice, granting the illusion of control and safety.

"So you could show me around?"
"Who would you ask accompany you? I would not ask you to come alone."

And finally all would be nicely sealed and bound with a curious distraction. He lower his voice for the final words, almost a whisper as he offers his elbow in a gentlemanly gesture as though offering to escort her.

"There is no better time to give thanks to the gods than when in festivities. I would make a confession to them but in case they are not listening I'd have you there to ensure my words are not lost to lonely air."

He allows a dramatic pause and lets his eyes slip away, offering a hesitant breath and a vulnerability in his posture. Speaking now with less confidence, a deliberate display but one that perhaps wasn't all lie.

"Why do you suppose fate offers us familiar faces from our pasts, is it just a coincidence, a test, a chance for a do over, to see what we have learnt, or perhaps a reminder of what was or could be."

He was pleased with his work and the lines of social acceptance that he delicately push and balance on. While those words sunk in, and he knew it would give her reason for thought, his feet began to move. A silent invisible pain shot through his body, an intense throbbing hunger that now started to gnaw on his focus. It was quickly growing intolerable. Time was against him.
He had to get out of this crowd, with or without her.

_{Location: Lake outside of town ::: Location: Unknown}

---

A soft ticking echoed through the air, glassy eyes staring down at the sound’s source. Céline felt a sense of deja vu as she closed the pocket watch, returning it beneath her coat. Once again she stood alone on the outskirts of town, by the frigid waters of the nearby lake. Its surface had not yet frozen over, but the edges were beginning to blush over with crystals, the whitish tinge contrasting the dark waters lapping over. Despite this obvious change in temperature, it didn’t feel any colder to the blightborn than normal; an odd condition of her change, especially considering her place of origin. She gave the town a final cursory glance before continuing on her walk around the lake, brow furrowed in silent contemplation of the past week.

She had only just arrived in town, barely started making a new acquaintance before causing a rather revolting or at least unceremonious introduction to a few others after. Some of those she met were human, some were blightborn. Just like she had learned through her travels, there was a safe haven for her kind, though safe was between two large quotations. Her kind was dangerous and she nearly proved that in her moment of transfixation on that woman’s sorrow and anguish at the hot springs. She shook the images from her mind, already knowing that it was possible word of her actions would eventually climb the hierarchy. Although the inclement weather certainly provided some delay, that window was rapidly closing. Céline was not a woman to rush however, hence this walk to both collect her thoughts and desperately stretch her legs after being cooped up in the temple during the blizzard. It wasn’t her first choice, but she had been brought there after her incident to rest and recuperate, only to find out she’d be having an extended stay when she awoke to the howling winds outside.

Priestess Tingara had been more than hospitable, though her initial palpable anxiety was nauseating, it slowly eased away as she realized the rabbit-eared blightborn was not a threat. During their brief internment together, Céline helped around the temple, read and studied while Tia prayed and when they were able, the two conversed. The conversations never lasted long, but they were enjoyable and it gave an idea of the town she was planning on living in. Tia mentioned that Prince Flynn would be the one to speak with about moving here and as soon as the blizzard had abated that was the plan. Still a week trapped, Céline needed the time to take a long walk and really stretch her legs. Despite the vast amounts of snow, she made good progress having reached the far side of the lake, the town now much smaller than when she last gazed upon it. She took this moment to sit and just breathe, thinking it might be good to ask Tia to introduce her to the prince later, if there was anyone who could vouch for Céline, it would be her. Before she could really ponder on it further, a muffled sound caught her attention, low at first, but growing. Céline looked around, her ears like two antennae trying to find the source, only to look somewhat confused at a large snowdrift beside a cliff face. The woman got to her feet and cautiously approached the mound, pressing her ear closer; was someone…digging?

Ivor trudged along the darkened pathway, his heavy footfalls reverberating in the cave around him, a cave he found himself stuck in for many days now. He couldn’t remember exactly when he fell in the hole in the ground, but when he awoke sometime later it was far too dangerous to go back out. While it wasn’t an ideal situation, the hunter knew he’d only lose himself further venturing outside during a blizzard, better to stay in the hole, better to explore the hole. Said hole turned out to be an underground cavern of some kind, plenty of dark and winding paths, all natural, yet maze-like in its layout. Ivor had plenty of supplies on him to mark specific paths he had taken, ones he knew were dead ends, ones he knew he'd be able to easily traverse; oriented rocks here, some marked ink on the wall there.

After a few days of idle exploration, Ivor’s spelunking found himself in a secluded crystalline cavern, separate from the rest of the cave. The cavern glittered and glowed blues and purples from the walls reflected back infinitely into the pool of water below; a pool containing a multitude of fish. The giant blightborn knew he found a good find, but another pathway from earlier beckoned further exploration. He doubled back to travel down it until the sounds of wind howled louder, another entrance, but the blizzard was still ongoing and didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. Ivor all in all, felt this was a good time to fish and for three days that’s exactly what he did. Now here he was, a blightborn man who had supped on the souls of dozens of fish, had said fish strung up to bring home and feed the people. By now the howling of the wind had died down, it was time to return home with his bounty. He hauled his load through the cavern, down the pathway he doubled back down, only to find the entrance blocked up with snow. Sizing up the entryway he lowered the fish down and began tunneling his way out with his bare hands. It took some time, but without the sensation of cold to stop him from digging, it was faster than any other man with a mote of desperation could do. When the first bit of moonlight started breaking through the snow he knew he was close, all he needed to do was go a little further annnd…

“Ahhg!” A massive hand popped mere inches from Céline’s face, ultimately startling her and sending a sudden, short yell from her throat as she backed away from the potential danger. The hand paused in the snow drift for a moment before resuming scooping snow out through the hole it just made. Céline took a few moments to process exactly what she was seeing before it clicked; someone’s trapped. “H-Hold on, I’ll help you get out!” The woman rushed forward, hurriedly scooping snow out with her own hands, unsure if whoever was on the other side was injured or not.

Ivor paused when he heard a voice call out, it wasn’t anyone he recognized, but if they were here to help. “Hah! Thank you, should not take too long to get out now!” The giant exclaimed, continuing to scoop large handfuls of snow out.

The harshness of the voice was somewhat off putting, but at least the source didn't seem to lack neither vigor nor vim. The snow slowly depressed with each scoop, some minutes passed, but eventually the whole pile collapsed away revealing the two diggers to one another. Céline took a look at the man, only some inches taller than herself, yet magnitudes larger in size. Her eyes widened, a sudden momentary and primal fear overtaking her senses as she froze in place, something screaming to run away; like prey staring at a predator. The way his emotions felt, however helped to ease the sense of impending doom, she could feel herself relax, shoulders far too tensed.

The giant stepped forward, staring down at the rabbit-eared woman and gave a soft smile, “Hello,” he stared a little longer trying to remember if he’d seen her somewhere, “Ivor thinks he has not met you before.”

Ivor? The accent was a little hard to comprehend, but she was sure that was what he said, “H-hello, Ivor was it? My name is Céline, are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?” Awkwardness and fear aside, Céline decided to grow up and be a doctor for a moment considering she did find him trapped.

Ivor bellowed out a deep laugh that echoed across the lake's waters and surrounding woods. Birds in nearby trees quickly departed in protest and Céline winced slightly, her ears casting downward to the sudden auditory trauma. “Never better Miss Ceiling, good to meet you!” Though Ivor was excited, he remembered that he had an entire school fish to travel back to town with, “Ah, almost forgot, yes! Look!” He quickly turned around and proceeded back down the path hole he emerged from, filling the blightborn woman with a mixture of confusion and curiosity as glassy eyes stared into the darkness of the cave. In short order the giant returned from his hole with at least a baker’s dozen plus of fish, all strung up neatly by their tales. “Look at all this good stuff I caught!”

Céline’s eyes widened as she looked at the giant’s haul, “You caught all this?” Ivor nodded in response, as she eyed his prize, noting that while the entire catch looked healthy, some of the fish bore some unusual color patterns. She wasn’t sure what breed of fish these were, but she’d never heard nor laid eyes upon fish with such vibrant hues of effervescent blues and purples. She looked back at the man, glassy eyes gauging him as she sensed his emotions. He was strong of heart, that felt certain, full of energy, definitely. A mixture of pride, honesty, integrity, fairness, with an overwhelming sense of trust.

Ivor seemed like a decent man, a potential guide and companion to enter town with for the first time , “I don’t suppose you’re bringing all of those fish over there?” She asked him, staring at his haul before looking over at the town he nodded. “You live in that town?” When he nodded again in response she asked him, “Is it alright if I come with you? I’d only just arrived before the blizzard came, and hadn’t had a chance to enter the village proper. It might be better to enter with someone who lives here, rather than as a lone stranger.”

Ivor looked the woman up and down, definitely blightborn with ears like she had. She didn’t seem dangerous and she did help him get out of the cave, so he saw no reason to refuse her. “You wish to live here too then?” This time Céline nodded back in response and Ivor smiled in return, “Well, I am not one in charge here, but..welcome to Dawnhaven! Is very good town, with very good people, I will take you there, come!” Ivor decided quickly as he began to trudge long steps through the snow back to town. Céline, somewhat taken aback at Ivor’s abruptness quickly regained her composure as she caught up with the giant blightborn man. “So! Miss Ceiling, what brings you to our good town?!”

“It’s Céline, actually,” she politely corrected, “..and I’m here to help people, I’m a doctor.”

“Doc…tor…what is that?”

“Hm…well it’s much like a healer really, only without all the magic…” she began to tell Ivor as the two walked to Dawn Haven, side by side.