The vexing blonde watched and listened, but he couldn't wait for Aurora's reply.

The man which the gathering had crowded around was not wounded in the way that he had initially wondered, it became clear to the blue eyed monk that the man before him was no doubt trying to con the beholders. It reminded him of particular kinds of animals which would feign weakness, to draw in predators before setting it's teeth into them. Like a spider trying to make itself look like an ant, to lure out other spiders. Or a venus flytrap trying to lure in things with it's reeking promise before shutting it's jaws shut.

To many young and naive people, or old and too trusting, this kind of person was a threat. The kind which would prey on other's kindness, or to have them feel like they are doing a good thing, inviting a hungry wolf to the shepherd's flock. He had dealt with these kinds of people before, they could be found in all different places, from nobles, to thieves and beggars. Like the alcohol he had sworn to never consume, like the sweet poison it were, these individuals would use flattery and try coat their words in the same poison as their weapons.

There were a couple of kinds of people that he couldn't stand the sight of, those who saw themselves as wolves and everyone else the prey, those who sought to rob others of their free will and those who enjoyed causing suffering upon others for no other sake than to qwell their own miserable existance. These things reminded him of the Aurelian king, that detestable man, who had been a major reason as to why he had come all this way.

His objective had not changed at all. All his training and existance was for this purpose alone. A choice he had made still. It was surely better a fate than having no choice at all. In order to see Aurelia and Lunaris both fall, Dawnhaven and it's leaders, and it's blightborn inhabitants had to be protected no matter what. Would Flynn die and be no more, then the kingdoms would begin to war anew. If Amaya died. The same result. The coin had been tossed up into the air, with the goddesses watching and when it landed… it landed on the edge. And it is upon that edge which they would all have to tread. His task was simple in theory, but difficult in practice. How would he be able to keep both of the heirs of the twin kingdoms 'alive', and at the same time prevent them from undoing the source of the blight.

As terrible a plague as the blight was upon the world, with many people suffering under it's effects, whereof they died to it or were changed forever. Was it any different from living in a world that would never change? Where those two kingdoms and their pitiful warlords would fight til the end of time on behalf of things out of the mortal world.

Would Flynn set out to find a 'cure', then he knew that he too would have to go and make certain the blight would continue, and if necessary have Flynn become one of the afflicted. A dark fate, but not a fate uncommon. Leela. Kira. And many others had fallen prey to that very fate. Their hopes and dreams likely snuffed out like the feeling of being alive. Would Flynn ultimately chose the wrong path, and go down the same bloody path as Auric. Then the blue-eyed monk knew, that he would have to stop him and seize his place. It wasn't just to see the Aurelian king dead, but to unify the land that had since the beginning of time been divided and never changing.

The blight was a unifier, it was likely never meant to be. Like Dawnhaven was never meant to be a kingdom come. Unless he had an ally hidden in the shade. Time would tell. As it always did.

So would Tia. Soon.

The blonde smiled softly, he lift his head slightly and stepped forwards towards Vellion and Amaya.

"A fly may think a venus flytrap's rotten scent is sweet and inviting, yet upon landing upon it, finds itself consumed. Tread upon the web carefully, the slightest tingle may alert the spider that dinner is ready." He said softly with a smug smile, he raised his right hand and tried to trace his index finger along Amaya's arm towards Vellion hand. His ghostly blue eyes setting on Vellion.

"The cricket sought to drink the morning dew. The mantis stalks it, unaware of the bird behind it." Gadez said in a slightly poetic manner, his voice still soft and with a smile upon his lips, before it completely began to fade away and the blonde's voice took a turn, he spoke in a lower voice, but just enough for Amaya and those near to hear it.

"Unhand the girl." The blonde man said coldly, his ghostly piercing blue eyes staring right at Vellion. There was no smile this time. "...or I will unhand you." He finally added, his gloved hand ready to grab unto Vellion's wrist if he wouldn't comply.

@Dark Light@c3p-0h@Qia

Sya was used to reading people, it was a skill that had kept her alive, a vital skill of her new trade and something most blighborn had to possess out of sheer survival. She could tell kiara was uncomfortable, or just not open and that was fine, Sya was probably. Definitely more open than she would have been had she not drunk so much and been so emotional in the past short time.

She told her story and felt safe doing it, they were similar in a sense and all had their deep scars and wounds that ran to their hearts. They all had faced the darkness and the Blights attempts to make them abandon humanity and they had not yielded to it. “Thankyou Kiara, I'm just trying my best, we just launched a new bakery, and distillery. Becky, well.. me…Vala. Are not the best to judge cooking so she runs the kitchens mostly. They seem to be popular, you're both always welcome.” Sya said proudly but also with a blush, she was not so used to praise and drank from the bottle before passing it back round the group. She knew when to use her blightborn and human staff to their strengths, she had quickly learned that she could make great advantage from both working together.

She made a surprisingly playful gesture and used her tail to splash Kiara and Orion a little, she definitely was not sober… but she smiled and her emotions had been for now, more playful and her trust evident her tail began to mirror her hand gestures more. “Hey, I cannot deny I like them taller, wrap me up and make me feel safe.” Sya's cheeky side broke though from a deeper part of her and old memory returned.

Sya mind ran back to a day long ago, a warm summer's evening when she ended up sat wrapping his hand, she had not meant to hurt him but watching him shirtless, sweating, working and hammering nails into the stables door… She had been a little too flirty and distracting as he hit his hand and took a week to lose the bruising. She had taken him back to her home and helped him much to her mothers gentle smile of her head watching her daughter so carefully wrapping his hurt hand she claimed not to be flirting with all while sitting on his lap. Being short was certainly helpful that day, she claimed it was because she needed the light, but really because she liked it.

Her mind snapped back to the present and Sya looked up at the moon and stars in the sky, of eternal night. “Who says I don't mind a pretty ssssstable girl too. Or fearsome warrior princessss herbalist… zi do no lt bite but i like to ssssnugle. My scales are very Ssssmooth and quite comfortable.” Sya said with an exaggerated hiss and a wink. After everything that happened to her she had a former lover of female kind who was hardly a problem in a world of eternal night, having been reborn from the dead and ending up a Lamia. She fiddled with a necklace a little before answering, a simple metal hammer on a leather cord, nothing fancy from a Dawn Haven market stall.

“We try, I'll expect you more often then, I can see if I can get the wine you like. I'm sure the Prince paysss you nicely. Il help lighten that Purssse. Gold is heavy, and i not mimd helping.” Sya made a cheeky proposal, not the flirty kind but forward, Sya was a little abnormal, alot abnormal as she worked also to try and control the hiss in her voice. Sya Stable…no, but she was acting more like Sya again thinks to these too, and a sign why she had worked well at the Inn.

Trying to lead Kira to safe ground was harder challenge for Sya, she did not know her well, or deeply… she was a independent person and from what Sya knew kept her own circles. “Anyone know if that … man.. was right about his claims? Surely if you think like…that…why come… here?

I'm…not sure if he is…kinda… like a few hammers short of a smithy.”Sya asked casually though she was rather interested in the answer and they likely could see through her approach to try to sidestep an awkward moment for Kira.

“You know there's a few women who think your handsome in the rall, vampire, dark romance vibe. Even more if they knew you had Abs like those.” She brought her teasing expression back to Orion, deciding that Kira was someone who was not to be rushed into unlocking the layers. She had seen ernough to know he was certainly not a disappointing view when he came to save her.

Memtions

Aurora Halliwell

Eye of The Beholder
Outside the Inn

---

Aurora felt an unsettling tension in the air as she watched the injured man rise. Something was extremely captivating about the way he fixated on the princess, his gaze holding an intensity that made Aurora’s skin crawl. His eyes stayed on her like a predator studying its prey, and his hands wrapped around the princess’s as if he were trying to weave a bond that felt both sinister and unwelcome. Aurora’s instincts screamed that he was weaving a trap, drawing the princess closer with false charm and hidden intentions, and she was determined to thwart his plans.

Just then, the monk, who had been silently observing the unfolding drama with a frown etched across his brow, finally intervened. His voice was firm as he commanded the stranger to release the princess. In that charged moment, Aurora’s mind sparked with inspiration, an idea began to form.

Gathering her courage, she stood up with an exaggerated grace and then pretended to lose her balance, as though her leg had gone numb from kneeling for too long. In an instant, she grasped the stranger’s arms with both her hands, her touch gentle yet firm. She hoped that this would cause the man to let go of the princess’s hands. Aurora seized the opportunity; she steadied him with a kind smile and feigned concern. “Oh my goodness, I am so very sorry! Are you ok?” She asked, her voice laced with sincerity.

Turning swiftly on her heels, she cast a glance at the monk to ensure his support and then focused her attention back on the princess. With a graceful curtsy, she spoke softly. “Forgive me, miss. It seems that my leg has indeed fallen asleep from kneeling for too long. I hope you are unharmed.” Straightening up, she continued with conviction, “May I accompany you as you escort this man to the temple? I wish to ensure that he receives the proper care he needs.”

With that declaration, Aurora hoped to divert attention away from any dangerous agenda and keep a protective watch over the princess, all while placing herself in a position to safeguard the princess from the stranger’s potentially deceitful intentions.

@Dezuel @Dark Light @c3p-0h @Qia

Eris furrowed her brows as Ayel questioned her on what the donation had been for. Certainly his family did fund many things, but this sort of thing felt like it should’ve stood out from all the rest. "The funding for researching a cure for the blight." She reminded him, her voice soft despite her confusion.

Suddenly, though, her memory recalled that she had heard it had been his eldest brother’s name on the donation. She would not mention that and risk embarrassing the Lord, though. Wounding Ayel’s ego seemed like a dangerous mistake to make. Still, the whole exchange struck her as odd. How could Ayel not know? Was he truly so detached from his family's endeavors?

Her gaze hardened slightly as Ayel began to speak of Sya in such a negative light. Sya was one of the most genuine people she knew, often wearing her heart on her sleeve, and hearing Ayel speak of her made something cold stir within. She knew the prejudice many held against blight-born, but it still saddened her that such venom could be so freely spoken in what was supposed to be their safe haven. They were still people. Sya was still a person.

Why had Ayel even come to Dawnhaven if he held such disdain for its people? She couldn’t fathom why anyone who hated blight-born would willingly enter a town so full of them. Did he have ill intentions? She even doubted his words about being Flynn’s best friend—his attitude clearly didn’t align with the Prince’s values.

Worse yet, it made her wonder if she had added to Sya’s burden by her reaction earlier that day. Guilt crept in closer, and she glanced quickly down, fighting the uncomfortable feeling that had settled in her chest. Had she been no better than those who held disdain Sya?

As Ayel moved on to speak of the Prince’s marriage, Eris’ discomfort deepened. The way he referred to Amaya as a "barbarian" was nothing short of disrespectful. Eris had limited experience with the Princess, but what she could tell, she had been nothing but kind, and her position as the Princess of Lunaris demanded respect. “Prince Flynn did marry Princess Amaya," she confirmed, her voice now a touch colder, "and from my experience, she’s been quite lovely. As has Sya, the innkeeper."

Ayel was bold, perhaps too bold for his own good. She couldn't imagine what the Lunarians might do if they heard him speak like this about their Princess. And what if the Prince were to hear? She had heard the rumors about Ayel’s ego, but seeing it in action was something else entirely.

Sensing a subtle shift in Nathaniel’s demeanor, Eris quickly stole a glance up at him. As he began to play at Ayel’s obvious vanity, she offered a small, mischievous smile. Turning her attention back to Ayel, she nodded along with the over the top compliments Nathaniel handed to him. The sarcasm seemed to go entirely over Ayel’s head, and she couldn’t help but find it amusing.

When Ayel confirmed just how charismatic and beautiful he thought he was, Eris almost laughed outright. Luckily, her training as a noble woman allowed her to stifle it and only allow the small twitch of a smile to pull at the edge of her lips. She didn’t have to try hard to believe the rumors now; Ayel's arrogance dripped from his every word.

As Nathaniel asked if they could head to the Alchemy Chambers, she turned to him, considering it for a moment. Was it odd or unladylike to bring him back to her home? No… it wasn’t just her home. He would be working there too, after all. It was only natural that he would want to see his work station… right?

“Of course.” She agreed, glancing back at Ayel who began to speak of his younger sister. “I did not realize Lady Anora would be arriving as well. I will be sure to look for her.” she said, genuinely surprised. Anora did not strike her as the type to venture to such a dangerous place—and she was so young. Did their family not care for her safety? Then again, Ayel didn’t seem the type to care for much beyond himself.

“It was a pleasure, Lord Raunefeldt.” she lied, bowing her head to him briefly and offering a warm smile. Turning back to Nathaniel, she caught his gaze as they both turned to leave.

Once they were out of earshot, Eris couldn’t hold it in anymore. She flashed Nathaniel a knowing look, her blue eyes sparkling with mischievous amusement. "He's, uhm… interesting, isn't he?" she said, barely holding back a giggle. She kept her voice low as they walked toward the Alchemy Chambers, boots crunching against ice and snow.

With a playful tilt of her head, she added, "So… why didn’t you keep dancing with Daphne? You two were quite the pair out there. I’m sure she was enjoying herself." She teased, her tone light, but her eyes flickered to him, trying to read what lay beneath his carefully composed exterior.

---

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

Kira’s smirk widened as Orion’s dry retort hung in the air. For the first time in what felt like forever, a spark flickered to life within her—a warmth she hadn’t realized she’d missed so deeply. The rhythm of playful banter. The subtle dance of give and take. The unspoken challenge laced within words. A flicker of something stirring in her chest that she thought she’d long forgotten how to feel. For a fleeting moment, she felt alive again. Human.

“A stable boy? Mmm…” she mused, leaning into a teasing tone. “Not my type either, I’m afraid.” She paused, tilting her head and looking upward, as if weighing her words with exaggerated thoughtfulness. “I think I prefer something… more mysterious. Brooding, perhaps.” Her fiery eyes locked onto his, a mischievous glint in them.

For a heartbeat, the air between them felt charged, her words hanging there with a daring edge. Then, just as quickly, she shifted her attention back to Sya, whose bold and flirtatious words spilled freely—likely encouraged by the bottle of wine that she had downed more than half of.

At Sya’s flirtatious remark seemingly aimed at her, Kira arched a brow in amusement. Her gaze flicked to Sya’s blue scales, lingering there for a moment as she considered the comment. She had been with a woman or two before, but a half-snake? That would be a new one.

How would that even work? Did Sya only gain pleasure from her top half now? She blinked a few times, her lips pressing into a firm line as she yanked her mind back to the present. Clearly the alcohol was going right to her head, too.

Without another word, she grabbed the bottle Sya had passed around and took another sip. Placing the bottle down beside Orion, Kira chuckled lightly under her breath as Sya proposed “lightening their purses” for some of the Prince’s wine. “I might take you up on that offer sometime.” she murmured with a faint smile, enjoying the sassy energy that radiated off Sya now. Despite the turmoil of her emotions, Kira had to admit that there was something endearing about Sya’s unabashed nature.

Her mood shifted sharply, though, as Sya brought up Ayel again. A spark of irritation flared in her chest, and her amusement disappeared, replaced by a steely expression. Kira clicked her tongue. “Tch. Don’t waste your time worrying about him,” she said coldly, her voice low. “He’s just a weak little man who doesn’t know his head from his ass. Let him talk. You have more power in a single scale than he does in his entire being.” She seethed, her hatred of him palpable.

“He doesn’t get to decide who holds the power here.” There was an edge to her words—a subtle, dangerous undercurrent. At the end of the day, Ayel’s life existed here because blight-born allowed it. Because she allowed it. If not for her weak desire for community, Kira would have already drained every last drop of his life force.

The words hung in the air for a moment, edged like a blade. Her patience for men like Ayel was razor-thin, her sense of justice and her lingering rage a volatile combination. Kira’s gaze flicked to Orion briefly, half-expecting a look of disapproval or for him to chime in with some tempered wisdom to counter her aggression.

But then Sya shifted the conversation, her teasing directed squarely at him, and Kira’s expression softened. The fire of her irritation dimmed to a faint flicker, yet lingered like a dying ember.

Though she still felt the residual tension from the mention of Ayel, she tried to push it aside, trying to reclaim that spark of life she’d held so briefly. Her eyes flit between the two of them as she watched the interaction. The corner of her lips quirking upward ever so slightly as she watched Orion, curious to see how he would handle Sya’s brazen flattery.

---

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

---

_{Location: Outside the Inn}

---

---

Amaya gave a small, sharp gasp as suddenly the man’s hands were wrapped firmly around hers, long fingers encircling her wrist. He was up, in her space in a heartbeat. He was so close, his eyes seeming to trap her as he looked down into her own. Amaya wanted to pull away but she couldn’t move, boxed in by the press of too close bodies, and eyes, and strangers –

Out. She needed out.

He was speaking. Voice soft and melodic, the words seemed to blur together as she looked up at him. His body was curled over her, and it was like she was surrounded by him — weighing her down, holding her in place as the sea of people only thickened, bustling and stormy.

Perhaps if Amaya wasn’t a mess of nerves, perhaps if she wasn’t constantly working to keep such a type grip over her magic, perhaps if this strange man’s abilities had been familiar instead of blightborn, if he hadn’t been needling away at her with singular focus for the past few minutes, if he hadn’t touched her, if, if, if —

But all of these things were true. The ground beneath her feet seemed fluid and shifting. It pushed her towards him. Or maybe he pulled her along instead. When he bent his head lower to murmur in her ear, voice soft and close, Amaya thought she heard someone else. When she looked back down at his hands still claiming her, he was so startlingly fair, his skin like milk against her own. She looked up at him, blinking. The edges of his face seemed to blur, flickering. What color were his eyes? They seemed to glow amber in the firelight.

There was no warmth to his body. No heat that seeped into her. So there was nothing to contrast her own chill as frost grew along the skin of her hands, her tenuous grip on her magic slipping.

And then suddenly someone else was in her space, commanding attention. Amaya jumped at the feel of another touch on her arm, a long finger tracing along her skin. Small, icy flowers bloomed along her arm, painting the path that he traced. And when Amaya looked up at this new person, this sudden source of warmth —

Blond hair and eyes like the sea, expression stormy as he watched the man who’d dared to set her so off balance.

The world seemed to trickle in. Amaya blinked as she watched this new man, her vision refocusing. His eyes were wrong — they weren’t green, but a ghostly blue. He was older. His face wasn’t quite right. It was handsome in its own way, but it wasn’t the landscape that she knew.

Another body. Another force moving against her. Amaya blinked awake fully.

The healer who’d come to assist, the slight woman with white hair, was offering hurried apologies and offers to accompany them — accompany them? Whom? To where? Reality flooded her. The two men who loomed over her, caging her in. They each doffed the familiar masks her mind had given them. They’d both laid claim to her arm, eyeing each other like territorial dogs.

She’d been magicked.

A new emotion struck her through her haze of confusion: anger. Icy and unrelenting, it crawled through her body as she took in the scene again. The man holding her hand – he’d been trying to spirit her away. All his pretty words, his heartbroken look that he’d first given her, had all been a ploy. The blond man, though… the one who’d taunted her and set her so on edge…

He was closer than acceptable – they both were – but he wasn’t looking at her. Though his hand lingered on her arm, he looked at the black haired man with a clear warning in his eyes. Danger crackled like electricity in the air. Amaya didn’t know what to make of it – the way he seemed ready to remove this interloper by force. It didn’t fit against the other pieces she’d assembled in her mind about him. Still, there was a hesitant sort of gratitude that touched her as she looked up at him.

Amaya’s world expanded beyond just the two men confining her. The healer. The barefoot man. Elara. The bustling crowd, half the town having gathered for the feast. The electricity sparking between the men suddenly wasn’t just a warning. It was an inevitability, threatening to catch everyone up in the storm. Amaya felt the weight of her station like a winter cloak, heavy on her shoulders. She wasn’t ever given authority to exercise here in Dawnhaven, but on some level these people were still her responsibility.

Her decision was so quick that Amaya didn’t even have time to register it. Fixing a smile on her face, she looked between the two men standing over.

“Gentlemen,” she said with a light, chastising tone. Her free hand, the one that glittered with her wedding band, touched the blond man’s hand. A staying motion. She turned her attention back to the man who seemed so intent on pulling her away. “It would be my pleasure to show you the temple. I’m quite overdue for a visit myself, I think.” Her magic buzzed under her skin, growing restless. Amaya forced her smile to remain in place as she slipped her hand into the crook of his offered arm. “I haven’t taken a proper dip in a moon pool since – when was it, Elara?” Amaya craned her neck to find her handmaiden, meeting her eyes. “Bishop Ashwood’s consecration last summer?” One of the guards nearby looked at Amaya sharply. She knew him. He’d been stationed at the palace for most of her life.

Amaya never entered moon pools. There was no Bishop Ashwood. She’d avoided large bodies of water ever since she was a child, and ‘Ashwood’ was a codeword the palace had come up with to discreetly alert those who knew it to potential danger or complications. The king had only ever had a single heir – safeguards had been put in place to keep her alive. At least, until it became convenient to get rid of her, apparently.

“Sir Abel, would you escort us?” The guard gave a nod, then a silent command to another guard to accompany them as well. Amaya was already moving away from the crowd, lightly tugging the black haired man by the arm she was wrapped around. She looked then to the healer. “Your care is admirable for your profession, but the snow can make travel dangerous if your leg is troubling you. Perhaps you should stay, and sit a while. I’ll make sure he receives adequate care.”

He wanted Amaya away from the crowd? Fine. Better that this ticking bomb go off in private, rather than put any of the citizens at risk. Better to keep this contained than make a scene. Her anger was an indignant, icy thing as she batted her eyes up at him. She smiled like she was still under his spell, the two guards trailing behind them.

---

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

@BlackRoseSiren@c3p-0h@Qia@Fetzen

Vellion Hurst

---

Outside Eye of the Beholder.

---

And things had been going so well... Vellion was forced to quickly retreat inwards for a moment, holding himself completely still and silent as he battled for self control. His vision grew dim and his thoughts a blurry mess, he feared any movement or retaliation would result in him caving to base desires.

Oh but how easy and satisfying it would be to take just one bite of this fool. In a sudden burst he could catch them all off guard and open any number of arteries in a second. Oh how they called to him, not as sweetly as as the one beneath his fingertip, but they called to him nonetheless.
He could practically taste it already, almost feel the warmth on his skin as the man's blood pumped out of his neck pouring all over Vellion, feeding him, sustaining him, empowering him.
Such a prospect was hard to refuse, especially when every cell of his being begged for it, demanded it. He could see it all happening in his minds eye, many times in many glorious satisfying ways.

It took him a while but he slowly anchor himself. His vision coming back to life, eyes run looking down across the woman's arm, trailing the path of the man's finger before throwing him a contempt glance of annoyance. Inwardly he smirk, this fool was not all wrong, Vellion did intend to consume her, at least a little bit.

"Are you drunk my friend. Wait, who is what bug?" He mockingly ask. "The lady here has the sweetest inviting scent, are you saying she will consume me?" He offers her a sly playfully questioning glance before turning back and putting a hint of scolding accusation in his tone.
"For I know you did not just compare my lady to a shit eating fly, blindly seeking rotten smells."

Vellion gave a moments thought to the smell of decay. His sense of smell seemed to go first before his body wilted so he wasn't sure if it gave an odour or not. Hopefully he would feed soon and not have to find out.

"And are you supposed to be the spider?"
Disgust and condescension growing evident in his voice as he lift his chin and squares his shoulders up to the man.
"Eager to devour us both?"

Everything in his tone and body language was mocking and showed utter disregard and contempt for this man. He was far from done, a snarl tugging at his lips and malice burning in his eyes, more sharp words ready to pour from his lips but then the healer staggered into him pulling his attention and grip away.

He blink from the sudden impact and as the darkness flash away, he found the healers outstretched arm in his tight blight born grip, her exposed wrist facing up, lips already starting to part. Quickly he drop it and growled at her.
"Watch yourself."

He barely noticed the other woman's words but felt her take his arm and begin moving. Victory. A smug taunting grin was flashed at the man as he started to stroll away. The guards following caught his attention, a faint hint of infuriation raising in his gut, but his mind was hazy, he only had the focus for one thing at a time and right now it was holding himself together. He didn't want to seem eager but despite that he still insistently moves Amanya on.

_{@Qia@c3p-0h
Location: on the way to Selune's temple}

---

The more Valthyr stood and watched the scene in front of him unfold, the more it felt as if the gods had just decided to start a race between the cold creeping up his own feet and the many people creeping towards the person that was Amaya, but whose name he didn't know yet. It was almost pathetic. Was basic respect towards other human and living beings in general a thing that wasn't taught anymore in either kingdom ?

He had noticed a female and then shortly after a male leaving the tavern and initially thought that maybe they were a couple who had had a disagreement about something inside and now were both eager to show off who was the more insulted of them. In retrospect however, he now considered altering this assessment: What if they had just been there to serve as a distraction sent by the heavens, to break the continuity of the madness slowly unfolding on the stage so to spare the audience ?

Of course that was nonsense of sorts, but Valthyr's remorse for not having reacted more quickly wasn't. He might have been able to step in and prevent Vellion and the other man from their doings upon the woman's request to help, but now the fact that he hadn't came to bite his conscience a bit. It only was of little solace that this non-move had allowed him to learn about several people he should potentially be cautious about simultaneously: If these men were capable of behaving almost like a pile of mindless creatures trying to feed off a fallen horse, then what else could they do ?

But... should he intervene now that the situation was already about being resolved ? Ranting at Vellion didn't feel like the right thing as ranting only worked if one had actual authority -- which he had not. He didn't know anybody here yet and vice versa. Also delivering a speech would have involved staying outside on bare feet for much longer and, frankly speaking, he was no longer ready to do just that. A few more minutes and they might have another issue requiring a strong healer in the same place.

The music coming from inside the building sounded tempting. Apparently people were having fun in there and each time the door had opened, warm air had gushed outside in a large quantity. He did not have any coin worth mentioning though so he could end up stranded in there with warmth, but without food. Also... wasn't somebody who could call in several guards to accompany here with ease probably somebody very important ? Maybe even that princess that was supposed to be involved in this testing ground of a village ?

An idea hastility formed in Valthyr's mind. Maybe he would be able to get several of the things he wanted at the same time: warmth, some food, and somebody to talk to since he would also need some room here to dwell in on the long run. He left the scene, disappearing around the next corner as quickly and silently as he had arrived. Now was not the time for the familiar druid, or the flying druid, or the feral druid. No... now was the time to deploy the fluff!

Amaya, Elara and the other individuals on the way to the temple would find themselves tracked by a cat with thick, gray fur very soon. Bare paws were so much more comfortable in deep snow as feet and surely they wouldn't deny a cute, little, innocent fellow access to a holy place, would they ? Valthyr raised his tail and added a slight curve at the end so to indicate a good mood and caught up with the group using what he thought was a speed looking unconspicuous enough.

Now he had to make sure he wouldn't be accidentally trampled by one of the guards, given the fact he was hardly taller than his own human footsteps had been deep just minutes earlier. The druid meowed so to draw some attention and followed along, looking upwards and twisting his head while hurrying along. He even dared to slightly rub his right lip against Elara's leg, knowing that he was a fully functional feline right now after all -- including the pheromone glands.

Silently, Flynn followed Tia down the hallway, a sense of unease settling over him as he realized that she was leading him toward her own bedroom. Everything he had ever been taught told him that this was improper, especially for people of their station. Then again, he wasn’t quite sure what he had expected—there weren’t many private areas built into the temple that she could have taken him.

Once inside, he gently closed the door behind him, pushing any thoughts of lost decorum from his mind. The room was still faintly warm, with the remnants of a fire flickering low in the hearth opposite her bed. A single candle remained lit on her bedside table, casting a soft, amber glow. He walked toward the fireplace, unwilling to sit on her bed—there was something too personal about it—so instead, he stood before the dying embers.

Crouching, he grabbed one of the logs neatly stacked beside the hearth and carefully placed it atop the charred wood. With a subtle motion of his hand, he summoned a small thread of magic to the surface, igniting the log in an instant. The fire roared to life, casting a bloom of light across the room, illuminating Tia and giving him a better view of her.

He stood and turned toward her, studying her for a moment, noting the nervousness in her eyes and the way it seemed to pain her to speak aloud. His own expression remained steady, as if he were trying to find answers from the look in her eyes alone.

Tia tried not to fidget under his scrutiny, her fingers twisting around each other in front of her legs. She forced herself to hold his gaze. Her mind spun faster and faster with each moment that passed, concocting new reasons to worry.

Flynn took a breath, deciding to forgo the pleasantries of small talk before business. He had already pushed past formalities here, why stop now? The question he had been wanting to ask burned in his chest.

“You’ve already served the crown greatly, Priestess.” Flynn stated, his voice low and firm. The fire crackled beside him, its flickering glow casting shifting shadows across her face as his deep green eyes held her dark eyes, unblinking.

"Lady Hightower made a discovery about the blight." he continued, watching her closely, measuring every movement in her expression. "And it seems you are a key factor in it."

His eyes searched hers for any semblance of recognition or surprise. Was this news to her? Or had she known all along? His eyes narrowed slightly—not in anger, but in confusion, as if trying to piece together a puzzle.

Tia’s expression didn’t change for a moment. Her eyebrows pulled together slightly, not recognizing the name. And then – her eyes widened.

Eris.

That evening in the hot springs flashed through Tia’s mind. How she’d held Eris’ hand, drawing careful letters into her palm. Seek the violet flow. The words echoed in her mind without a voice.

“How did you know?”

Tia was suddenly very cold. Aelios’ fire crackled, casting the Prince in a flickering silhouette. She could only stare at him, frozen in place. Her dreams… they’d meant something. It was like waking up to that first midnight morning all over again, two days after a dream of eternal darkness. It was the realization that the world was unknowable and more powerful than she would ever comprehend – but it knew her. But… maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions, and this wasn’t about Willis and his blood (though what else could it possibly be?) and her dreams were nothing. Tia didn’t know why, but she suddenly hoped they were nothing.

She’d been silent too long. The Prince was waiting for an answer. There was no warmth in his expression, none of that patience he’d had for her that first visit to the temple. Tia forced her lips to part. She closed them again. Finally breaking eye contact, she looked down at her hands. She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. Tia looked back up to the Prince.

“Know what?” The words were more breath than voice. They caught against her throat, and she tried to clear it as subtly as she could. But she needed to hear him say it.

Flynn’s eyes narrowed further, not quite buying her feigned ignorance. The silence had stretched between them for too long, giving him reason to believe she was giving herself time to come up with an alibi of some sort.

"How did you know that Willis’ blood would lead to a breakthrough?” he asked, traces of frustration evident in his tone now. “Eris—Lady Hightower—told me she never would have thought to look there, not without you.”

There was no accusation in his words—at least, not yet. What he sought was understanding. But the confusion in his gaze, those dark green eyes narrowed, spoke of more than simple curiosity. There was a growing sense of unease, of something not adding up in his mind. With every passing moment, whatever small amount of trust he had in her began to slip through his fingers like sand.

Tia’s heart was hammering against her ribcage.

It… it could’ve been a coincidence. Willis’ blood was purple, the same distinct shade as the blight she’d seen from afar two months ago. Perhaps her exhausted mind had just put the two clues together and…

But no, she realized, feeling more and more underwater with every breath. She hadn’t seen Willis’ blood until after she’d awoken from her nightmare.

Her prophecy.Her nerves rose with each degree of displeasure in the Prince’s voice.

“I—” Tia barely managed to cut herself off before she could start coughing. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on her throat. A hand came up unconsciously to slip under the fabric of her scarf and touch the scarred skin of her neck. When Tia opened her eyes again, it was to see the Prince still staring at her with his heavy gaze. She knew she couldn’t lie to him. Not just because she was an atrocious liar, but because she knew he wouldn’t relent until he received a satisfactory answer.

But what of the Arch Priest? He’d ordered her to not reveal her dreams, lest they prove false and do more harm than good. Her prophetic abilities were untested still. Untrained. Unreliable. And the thought of disobeying him, disappointing him again…

Tia spent another thunderous heartbeat staring at the Prince with anxious eyes. The raised skin of her scar was smooth and cool to the touch.Then she turned to the small drawer beside her bed, pulling it open. Careful stacks of paper filled the cavity, some filled, some fresh — and the book that held careful descriptions of her dreams sat beneath it all. It seemed to burn hotter than the fire the Prince had commanded into existence. Pressing her lips together, Tia pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and a pencil. She willed her hands to stop their trembling.

When she was done writing she turned back to the Prince, hesitating. Then she took three nervous steps towards him, not quite crossing the distance. She held the paper out to him. Her eyes stayed low, unable to meet his.

I did not know for certain. I just wanted to help.

Flynn read the note, his eyes skimming over the words, each one driving the sting of frustration deeper. He felt his patience wearing thin, his chest tightening. She wanted to help, yet here she was, withholding the one thing that could make a difference. His gaze hardened as he crossed his arms over his chest, meeting her eyes again. She flinched back at the cold steel there.

"You didn’t know for certain?" Flynn repeated, his voice flat, unamused by her insufficient answer. "You just took a wild guess, then?” he asked, studying her carefully again. Her lips parted, as if to answer. But no sound came out. “That’s quite lucky.” Disbelief dripped from his tone, though he never raised his voice. Tia felt herself withering under his words, her breath growing short and quick.

“It –”

“How could you want to help, and yet not explain further? If you know something more—don’t you want to help these people? Prevent more death?” The hardened look in his eyes softened for just a brief, pleading moment. Something broke in Tia at the sight – it was as if she’d struck him, guilt seeping into her like blood into soil. Desperate words bubbled in her chest, explanations, pleas, excuses… but none could make it past the ruined path of her throat.

For a few breaths, Flynn was silent, scrutinizing her again. Her breaths were coming rapidly now, audible as they moved through her. He thought back to what little he knew of her—how she had come from the Sunfire Citadel, highly recommended, how she was from the Ember Isles, a skilled healer, and yet... the wound on her neck. The fresh scar that should have never been there. How? How could someone like her have come to such harm, surrounded by those trained to heal? Things were not adding up.

He couldn’t let it go.

A question slipped from his lips before he could stop it, a blunt accusation. "What else does the Arch Priest know? Is that who gave you the information? Does he know how to stop the blight and yet he’d rather sacrifice Princess Amaya and myself instead?" His voice was quieter now, but sharp and filled with suspicion for the man who had sealed his fate with prophecy. Tia jolted at the questions, eyes widening.

For a moment, his mind wandered to his mother and her deep involvement with the Citadel. How much had she known? Had she been part of a larger plan? A pawn in their ploy, or had she also sacrificed him for some greater purpose?

"What game is the Citadel playing at this time? Are you all content to watch the world burn?"

“No! I can’t–” Tia’s voice cracked and shattered against her own jagged pieces. Air was a solid thing, tearing at her throat like claws. She coughed, curling in on herself. Her free hand went up to her throat again, as if her own magic could heal what was wrong with her. As if she was on that old dirt road again, hand against a gaping wound, trying to keep the life from spilling out of her. Her other arm lifted to cover her mouth with her sleeve. Her hand fisted, crumpling the paper.

The coughing fit wracked through her body, each breath another aggravation to her throat. Tears sprang to her eyes. She fought to remember the exercises the other healers had worked on with her – fewer breaths. Slower and longer. Relax the muscles in her neck and torso. But the air was like sand, grit against the mangled components that now made her. Eyes squeezed shut, she tried to hold herself together. She tried to breathe.

Flynn stood frozen, watching as Tia’s body convulsed with painful coughs, tears filling her eyes as she trembled. Each ragged breath struck him somewhere deep, where his Princely duties collided with the compassion he had always held for people. A fatal flaw that his parents had never quite been able to erase. His heart twisted in his chest. He had pushed her too hard, too fast, and now guilt consumed him like a tidal wave.

His finger twitched at his side, instinct urging him to reach out. Every fiber of his being wanted to come to her side, place a hand on her back, and offer comfort. Apologize. Tell her to breathe, to focus. He had always known what to do with his siblings, back when life was simpler, and they needed him in the ways only an older brother could be needed.

But he didn’t move. He forced himself to stay exactly where he was. Jaw tight, fighting against his inherent nature.

He couldn’t afford to give in to those gentle instincts anymore, no matter how badly it gnawed at him. This was too important. His life, Amaya’s life, the blight-born, the hundreds, maybe thousands who would die in the future if he didn’t find a solution—it all hung in the balance.

He needed answers. Real ones.

It felt like an eternity before the coughing subsided. Maybe it was only a moment. But when Tia could finally take a full breath, her throat was raw and burning. A dull ache radiated from her diaphragm. Her eyes were wet. She looked up at the Prince, embarrassed that he’d seen it all. But what would he do? Think less of her? Tia didn’t think his regard for her could get any lower at the moment, not with how he’d looked at her – like she was a person capable of summoning the blight herself.

The weight of his gaze was heavy as a brand.Tia pressed her lips together.

Despite his internal war, Flynn hesitated, his gaze softening for just a moment as he saw the raw vulnerability on Tia’s face. She looked so small, so broken, and for a moment, he wavered. He pulled his gaze away, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. His shoulders, once rigid with tension, sagged ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry.” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. He kept his eyes averted, unable to bear the sight of her in that moment. “I just—”

He faltered for a moment, considering his next words. “I need answers. We need answers.” His green eyes flicked back to her, but they were no longer as intense, no longer demanding—just pleading now. “If you know something, anything…”

She looked down at the crumpled paper she held – glimpses of words decorated the peaks and valleys she’d created. She looked back to the Prince. Raising the paper, she smoothed it out as best she could with shaking hands. Folding it was slow work. It felt meditative, almost. Align. Bend. Crease. Smooth. Align. Bend. Crease. Smooth. When she was done, she had a small, dense rectangle of paper, with only two words visible.

Tia allowed herself to hesitate for another moment. Breath scratched against her throat. Then she held it up to show him.

not certain.

Her free hand raised slightly, to stay any immediate reaction he might have, should he think this was another deflection or a lie. She held his gaze, desperately hoping he saw the truth of it. She tapped the paper.

‘Risky.’

There was no voice at all – just air in the shape of a word.

Flynn furrowed his brows as he read the note again, his eyes looking up just in time to see her mouth the word. Deep down, he knew she wasn’t wrong. If the Citadel knew something that she had been trusted with, then telling him their secrets was the most risky thing she’d ever do in her life.

But whose side was she on?

The Arch Priest’s many warnings echoed in Tia’s mind – how important it was to not burden others with the knowledge of her gift until she was sure it could be relied on. What if she couldn’t tell dreams from prophecies? What if she misinterpreted or misremembered things? Bad information was worse than no information at all, especially when she moved with Aelios’ light, drawing the trust and reliance of others. What if she mistakenly pointed them in the wrong direction, wasting time and resources they couldn’t afford to squander? What if she led to more senseless death, rather than prevented it? An ability of this magnitude couldn’t simply be wielded because there was the opportunity. It needed to be vetted and tempered, with discipline and training that Tia hadn’t had time to receive yet.

And now… Tia knew her resolve was a single push away from breaking, and the Prince wasn’t going to leave this conversation without his answers. She knew she was about to disappoint the Arch Priest here in this room, as surely as she knew the sun wouldn’t rise tomorrow. Any hope otherwise seemed foolish. But she needed the Prince to at least understand – the knowledge he sought from her might do more harm than good. Especially because Tia was the one providing it, without the Arch Priest’s guidance or discernment.

Flynn stared at her in silence, the tension between them thick as he considered her words—or rather, the lack thereof. His jaw clenched, a mixture of doubt and frustration weighing heavily on his mind. Time was slipping through their fingers, and every moment wasted meant more lives lost. Flynn could feel it in his bones, like the tightening of a noose inching closer each time the moon rose and fell.

The Citadel—its power and influence were undeniable. No one dared stand against it, not openly. But these were desperate times. Was it not time for the both of them to grow a spine?

Tia’s lack of explanation only managed to further cement his skepticism in the clergy. His ever present disdain for them burned hotter with every passing thought. These were the people who had sealed his fate, who had dictated his and Amaya’s lives with a wave of their hand. They had cast a shadow over his future, condemning him to death before he had a chance to live. But what if it was all fabricated? If they had known about the blight all along, then what else were they keeping hidden? And what exactly did they stand to gain?

A defiant rage stirred within as he stared at Tia for several long and uncomfortable silent heartbeats. A feeling he had managed to quell many times over. Snuff it out and move on. Ignore it and behave. Keep himself in line. But this wasn’t just about him anymore.

If the Citadel held knowledge about the blight—if they had used their influence to manipulate this prophecy to control him, to control the future—then everything was a lie. The thought burned through him like wildfire.

If they had manufactured his fate for their own ends, then Flynn would unravel every thread of their deception. He’d tear down the walls they hid behind and turn it all to ash.

His patience, the good-natured diplomacy he’d always catered to, had worn thin. It seemed that everything he had done to hold himself together—his family’s legacy, the expectations he had been bound by—were irrelevant compared to what they were facing.

Flynn could see Tia’s hesitation, the fear gnawing at her from the inside. Defying the clergy wasn't something to be taken lightly. He let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of his next words before he spoke them. His voice, when it came, was low, firm but not harsh.

“I understand,” he began, his eyes steady on her. “But we’re running out of time. I am running out of time.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. Then, his voice softened, but there was a fierce intensity behind it. “If you know something—anything…” his voice trailed off for a moment, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deception.

“I vow to protect you with my life, Tia.” His voice lowered further, more personal now as he purposely lost her formal title.

“Will you help me?”

Tia could only stand before him, stunned by his declaration – his quiet intensity, her name. The foreign thought that this man she barely knew would… would defend her, even now, when she’d only offered disappointment and frustration, when history told her that anyone else would’ve taken the opportunity to be rid of her. The sheer force of him seemed to radiate off of his body, furious and golden. She felt it burn away any last defenses she had. Giving in seemed as inevitable as the cycle of the stars across the sky.

But then… her eyebrows drew together slightly. ‘Protect’ her? From what? The blight? The blightborn who’d turned feral and vicious? Her throat was aflame with every shallow breath. Her face scrunched as she realized – he still didn’t understand. She looked up at him with her dark eyes, her own frustration finally building within her. It was a familiar feeling to turn inward – it sat in her burning throat, shards of glass cutting any words she could’ve offered in explanation.

She broke her gaze away from his. Looked down. Another cough tried to force its way through her, and it was all she could do to try and stifle it. Tia pressed her lips together again and looked back towards the small bedside table that held her writings. She looked back up to the Prince. His green eyes were nearly black in the flickering firelight of her room.

She walked to the table. Putting down her little folded rectangle, she retrieved her pencil and a fresh sheet of paper and scrawled careful words. Then she looked back into the open drawer. The dark cover of her book peaked out from beneath the stacks of paper. Tia hesitated. But she knew it was inevitable.

Flynn narrowed his eyes as Tia turned away from him, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. Was she truly more aligned with the clergy?

Moving the paper, she pulled out the book, flipping it open to where four sheets of paper were carefully aligned. She grabbed the top two and placed them on the table next to her note. Tia looked back towards the Prince. Somehow she couldn’t bear to put the knowledge in his hands herself. She couldn’t disobey the Arch Priest so directly.

Tia stepped away from the table, the papers resting innocently on the smooth wood. She waited for the inevitable as she clutched the book to her chest, its two remaining pages weighing down her arms.

When she finally looked back at him, her dark eyes filled with uncertainty, Flynn’s brow furrowed deeper. He shifted his gaze to the papers she had spread out on the nightstand, her silent invitation lingering in the air.

He took a few steps forward, his eyes settling the note she had just written. He picked it up, reading under the candle light. The words leaving him puzzled. What could she possibly mean by this?

I’m not the one in danger. I am the risk. I don’t know if my knowledge can be trusted yet.

His fingers brushed the edge of the paper as he stole a quick glance back at Tia, as if she might offer some kind of explanation. Her posture was rigid, clutching her book as if it were a shield, but she offered no expression, no words. Flynn's eyes shifted back to the other two pages she had laid out, the tension in him growing.

The first sheet was softer, more worn from handling. It was filled with careful, confused words – the paragraphs spoke of walking through a sea of darkness, towards a blinding, burning light. How that light crumbled apart bit by bit, shining dust littering the space around her – lining the path below her. It wasn’t the sea – it was a river. A glittering path that sparkled with every step she took, stardust glowing brighter as the burning light fell to pieces, until it was gone completely. All that was left was darkness – darkness that stretched endlessly, beyond any point she would ever reach, filled with only stars and the sounds of her breathing.

Flynn carefully read the hurried lines of writing, each word pulling him into a scene that felt foreign—vivid but abstract. Her words read like poetry, the meaning of it eluding him. He paused, glancing at the date written at the top, then read the words again, slower this time, as he tried to grasp the meaning behind it.

‘Was this a dream?’ He thought, though he couldn’t be sure. Nonetheless, the dream didn’t strike him as anything out of the ordinary. Flynn had plenty of odd dreams such as these. But why would she show this to him?

Finally, he gently set the page down on the table. Without a word, he picked up the final page. His heartbeat noticeably jumped in his chest, as if it instinctively knew that something was about to shift.

The second page was newer, the edges crisp and the ink bright. It told the story of her scar – or part of it, at least. Laying in the dirt. Desperately holding the shredded remains of her throat as blood leaked into the earth and her body numbed. The knowledge that she was dying. The river of stars, glittering above. But then the memory shifted. The stars coalesced into the blight itself, enveloping her as it fell. It pushed itself through her body, replacing the blood that had once filled her. The viscous purple ooze. The hunger. The silhouette with glowing eyes. The words that echoed with countless voices at once: In the eternal one’s veins, seek the violet flow.

Flynn’s eyes moved slowly across the second page, drawn into the memory Tia had captured. The imagery was brutal—a recounting of her near-death. Sympathy for what she had been through gripped him, though he questioned if this, too, was just a dream.

But then, as he reached the final paragraphs, things that had seemed grounded in reality started to become twisted—surreal.

‘The violet flow?’ He echoed the words in his mind, absorbing what Tia had written.

Both pages detailed the burning, unknowable presence that stalked her like prey. Both pages were dated – the first, six months ago. The second, the day she’d arrived in Dawnhaven.

His fingers tightened slightly on the page, and he could feel his heart start to race. The pieces began snapping into place, fragments of understanding threading together in his mind. The purple ooze, the blight. It had led her to Willis’ blood. These weren’t just dreams—they were something more. Visions.

Flynn turned to look at Tia, still holding the page. “You dreamt this?” he asked, his voice low but steady, the weight of realization sinking in. If she had dreamt this… if her dreams held any truth at all…

Tia watched the pages like they were snakes prepared to strike at her. Over the sound of her drumming heart, the Prince’s words reached her. She looked back to his stunned face as her grip on the book tightened. She nodded.

Flynn's gaze flicked back to the page, his eyes swiftly rereading the last portion, as if to reconfirm what he had just read.

He looked back to Tia, meeting her dark eyes. “If this is true,” he said, holding up the page in his hand, “then… you are in more danger than you know.”

He stared at her in silence for a few moments, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. His eyes searched hers, hoping to find some recognition of the peril she could be put in. Did she understand how deep this went? Had she heard about the things he had seen? Had she seen it for herself?

Tia blinked at him, caught off guard. Danger? Why on earth would she be in danger?

Then, bluntly, he asked, “Does the Arch Priest know?” He paused for a moment, but was unable to stop himself from asking the next question. “My mother?”

Confusion swirled within her, shown plain on her face. After a moment she approached the table – and the Prince. Trying to keep a respectful distance from him, Tia released a hand from its achingly tight grip on her book to pick up the pencil. She wrote a new message beneath her previous one, arm stretching to reach.

I came to the Arch Priest after my first one six months ago. He was teaching me to have better control.

Tia paused. The mention of the Queen reminded her of the burning letter still in her pocket. Fresh guilt filled her.

I don’t know if he told Her Majesty. He thought it would be dangerous for others to know before I had proper training.

Flynn read the words carefully, his brows furrowing as he processed what Tia had written. The Arch Priest was training her? His gaze focused toward the floorboards in thought, his eyes becoming distant. The world around him blurring.

An unwelcome memory clawed its way to the surface.

There she was—beaming at him, her fiery red hair catching the sunlight. The bustling noise of the market surrounded them, the kingdom alive with the scent of spices and the chatter of vendors and patrons alike. She laughed, her smile so full of life as she grabbed his hand and pulled him down the path. Her free spirited energy infectious. Abbi.

They were teenagers, carefree, weaving through the busy market. Laughter and the hum of life surrounding them.

And then, suddenly, darkness.

The warmth drained away in an instant. They were beneath the castle, hidden in the maze-like chambers no one ever spoke of. The air cold and damp. The walls pressed in around him. His heart raced. His mother’s hand gripped his own with a fierce, almost painful strength—anchoring him in place.

Abbi crumpled on the ground. She sobbed, her body trembling. The echo of her pain filled the small, cold chamber. The Arch Priest, younger then, stood over her, his face dark with anger. His mother’s face pale, but set in stone. Flynn’s pulse thundered in his ears. The Arch Priest lifted a hand. Abbi screamed.

The memory felt like a vice around his chest, squeezing tighter and tighter until he couldn’t breathe.

Flynn shook his head sharply, forcibly snapping himself out of it. His vision cleared, and the memory faded. His eyes refocused on Tia, grounding himself in the present. His heart pounded, but his face remained stoic as he stared at her. He couldn’t let it happen again.

"We should keep your dreams between us, for now." he said quietly, his voice guarded. “But please tell me if you have another. Your vision has been proven true, so far.” He paused, his expression darkening. “But we have to be careful.”

He looked down at the paper in his hand again, realizing he had been gripping it tightly. He offered it back to Tia, his eyes locking with hers. She reached out with a nervous hand. For a moment they both held the paper, gazes held heavy between them.

“The Arch Priest… he has not taken kindly to seers who’ve spoken up, in the past.”

Tia’s eyebrows pulled together, her head tilting in confusion. He was so… worried. Why? The storm that had passed over his features stuck with Tia, the memory of his eyes unfocusing, his countenance growing dark. Her hair stood on end. There was still so much she hadn’t told him. And he was demanding her secrecy, just as the Queen had, as the Arch Priest had. Whom was she to obey? The Arch Priest’s face flashed in her mind. His gentle demeanor, the way his skin wrinkled when he gifted her with an encouraging smile. How much it’d hurt when she’d lost his favor through her own foolishness. Her throat burned. She brought the wrinkled paper to hold against her book, before picking up the pencil and writing again on her notepaper.

Before the storm I wrote to the Arch Priest about dreams I’ve had here. He has only ever offered me guidance.

Flynn studied Tia’s words, his brow furrowing in thought. Had the Arch Priest had a change of heart after all these years? Time could alter even the most stubborn of men, couldn’t it? Perhaps the man who once towered in Flynn’s memories—sharp, domineering, and unrelenting—had softened, become someone Tia could trust. And yet…

Flynn shook his head slowly, letting out a faint breath through his nose. He glanced up from the note, meeting Tia’s gaze. “Guidance… for now.” he said, a warning laced in his tone, “so long as it suits him.”

Without another word, he straightened and turned, taking a few steps back toward the warmth of the hearth. He stood there for a moment, his back to her, one hand resting on the mantel as he stared into the flickering flames. Silence stretched between them, only broken by the occasional pop of burning wood.

His thoughts raced as he watched the flames flicker. How much could he trust Tia? Deep down, he knew he couldn’t trust her at all. No matter how much he wanted to believe that people were inherently good, she was still part of the clergy. She still held strong bonds of loyalty to them. She’d been sent here as the blade to their prophecy, after all. There was little that could be done for someone so indoctrinated.

It wasn’t surprising to him, she’d been nurtured by their teachings, sheltered in their halls. She had no reason to question their motives. And yet, it wasn’t her loyalty that unsettled him.

It was the way she always managed to peel back his defenses with nothing more than a glance or a carefully written note. With Tia, the mask slipped too easily. The layers he’d worked so hard to maintain fell away. She always left him feeling vulnerable, raw in ways he couldn’t explain. He hated it. ‘Stupid.’ he chastised himself. He had said too much. Felt too much.

Still, he needed her. Her assistance, her insight, her healing capabilities. If her visions held any truth, then she would be invaluable—assuming the Arch Priest wasn’t pulling all her strings. He had to tread carefully, to temper his frustration and keep his distance. Pushing her too hard could cost him, and that was something he couldn’t afford to lose. Not right now, anyway.

His jaw tightened as he finally turned back to her, mindfully steeling off his emotional ties this time. “We’ll be traveling to the blight lands soon,” he said, his words firm but calm. “The discovery must be tested. I’d like you to come with us.”

Tia watched the way the firelight flickered around the edges of his body, his face cast in shadow. She’d missed something, somehow – some opportunity had slipped away from her, and now the weight of every secret she was still keeping sat heavy between them. The Prince’s voice, cold and formal, only seemed to bury her deeper.

Her eyes widened at his declaration. His face might’ve been dark and hidden, but hers was not. Fear was stark across her features. But only for a moment. She looked away from him, like that might hide her thoughts.

Traveling to the blight lands. The memory of her last trek towards the blight was painted across her neck. It was the pale color of her hair. The broken shards of her voice.

Her grip on the book grew tight, her knuckles whitening. She couldn’t look at him as she nodded. Tia was nothing if not obedient.

Obedient to whom? To what end? All Tia had ever wanted was to help others – and now it seemed that any choice she made, someone was put at risk. The Arch Priest was relying on her. The Queen was relying on her. And now the Prince, so desperate for solutions… he still didn’t know about the two other visions she’d had. What if they were false, because Tia was still inadequate? What if he poured his resources chasing after a fantasy she’d dreamed up?

Tia looked back up to the Prince. She still couldn’t see his face clearly, but his eyes caught the light from the candle on her table. She nodded again, trying to seem more sure of herself.

She would tell him about the dreams, as he’d requested… after she could be sure they were worthy of his pursuit. Or perhaps the Arch Priest had replied to her by now, giving his blessing to freely share her visions. Tia prayed that was the case. But something about the way the Prince seemed so sure the Arch Priest couldn’t be trusted, contradicting everything she knew about him… Tia chewed the inside of her lip.

And as for the letters to the Queen… Tia felt the stiff envelope shift over the inner layer of her robe. It was an unanswered question bearing down on her.

Flynn's attention lingered on Tia's face, catching the fear that suddenly flashed in her eyes before she averted her gaze. For a moment, he wondered what the Arch Priest saw in her. What had compelled him to send her here to this desolate, icy wasteland? How could she be chosen to cut the thread of life for the former heir to the Aurelian throne?

Flynn had expected someone much more stoic, calculating and manipulative. Someone more molded for a task like this. And then, he thought—was this the Arch Priest’s way of being rid of her without getting blood on his own hands? There was something raw and uncertain about her, a vulnerability that made her presence here feel cruel. And yet, she managed to unravel him so easily. Maybe she was exactly the right person for the task.

For a moment, the urge to apologize, to acknowledge the weight he had added to her shoulders, tugged at him. But he forced it down, retreating behind practiced detachment. Sympathy wouldn’t keep either of them safe. Instead, he simply nodded an acknowledgement, his expression unreadable.

"I’ll let you know when we plan to leave," he said, his voice returning to formality, devoid of warmth. "Once I’ve finalized the details."

Without waiting for her reply, he made his way to the door. At the threshold, he paused briefly, his back to her, his tone colder than he intended.

"Thank you for your service to the crown."

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

---

Gadez gradually had his serious expression turn more into an amused one. The young man before him clearly was displeased, if one would judge by his tone of voice and overall body language alone. This was a good sign to the vexing warrior-monk, it meant he could get under the skin of the seemingly younger man.

"If you have difficulty to discern a sober man from a drunk one, or what is what, upon the great stage of life, then you are way in over your head already, boy. Perhaps you are already neatly wrapped into a silk cocoon, but like my spoken words, you are unable to understand it." He said in a teasing tone, his words were picked to prod at the younger man. The whitehaired girl from the inn had something in mind, but before it could be fully put into action, Amaya had already spoken up.

"There's not much to devour when it comes to you wightling, like a book with empty pages, whose only use may be found in an outhouse." He said softly but in a taunting manner to Vellion, a smile on his lips.

Gadez had intended to follow wherever the gathering was heading to, but Amaya's words had made him reconsider it. She was displaying control, not just with her words but actions as well. She was trying to lead the man away from the gathering? Were she worried of causing more of a spectacle or potentially getting onlookers involved? No matter which were the case, he thought it was probably for the best. Two guards only to accompany her.

That Amaya was now comfortable enough to lead this man away, even holding unto him was enough telling that she seemed to have things in order. She was being more sly than people surely gave her credit for.

"Of course, my appologies." Gadez said softly, offering a butlerlike bow before he withdrew from Amaya, his gaze however was fixed on Vellion, an amused look in his ghostly blue eyes now, he was enjoying to mock the young man. He even went as far as to give the man a wink.

This man was the kind to likely hold a grudge, he would surely appear before him again. Providing Amaya would not dispose of him. She was after all from one of the two most dangerous families. Ahh, how some traits would be passed on to the next generation, although… not always the things one may suspect. He broke his gaze momentarily with Vellion upon leaving them abit of space, stepping closer to Aurora and trying to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. They were leaving. The other whitehaired girl. Elara was seemingly going with them. The ghostly eyed blonde gave Elara a knowing look, following by a slight upturn at the corner of his lips. He didn't need to say anything to her, a simple nod was all that was needed.

"That'll do, little kittycat." He said softly to Aurora. "She will take good care of him. Do not fret." His voice was softer now, as he tried to convince Aurora to let Amaya, the two guards and Elara deal with the matter at hand.

"Though do take good care of yourself missy. There's more danger here than just the cold and a mangy mutt. Not talking about the malkin though." He chuckled softly and nodded in the direction of the cat following Elara, his eyes kept landing at Vellion.

He gave the man a knowing mocking smile back, as if daring him to try something.

'A puppet without strings, is not a puppet at all, but a piece of wood... for the fire.' He scoffed slightly and then tried to ruffle Aurora's hair.

"Let me know if that drunkard or anyone else pesters you, lil grimalkin. Afraid I have some unfinished... divine matters to attend to." He softly smiled and gave her an applogetic look, waiting just long enough for any replies before setting out towards the temple of Aelios.

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

As Sya comfort grew she let more of her tail out the water and began to visibly calm down again, Sya by virtue of the “Gifts” she had been given did not hide her emotions well on eye, or now body language. She was an open book if you read her right least as to her mood or how she felt about something. Oh she could keep a secret and maybe gossip a little but never secrets but if someone was openly flirting or so in the eye, that was fair game.

She turned to look at both of them, she would be glad to see them both at the Eye, they tended to have not been her regular customers and would be glad to add a few more, maybe hopefully friends to that. Sya was still very much a woman under the scales and cyclopian features, she hurt, wanted friends, to enjoy her life much as any other resident of the town. “Friendsss are always welcome at the Eye, as is Gold, both are always welcome under my roof. That will never change.” Sya was mixing a little hope and Sass into that one. She also was deeply proud of what she had achieved, even if Sya was still getting used how to handle the praise and respect she got.

“If anyone gIvessss you trouble, feel free to send them out the door. Painfully.” Sya had a slightly vicious undertone, she was still a blightborn and not entirely tame, friends however where firmly to be protected, she had a moral code even if it was a little…broken.

That unsurity came through when Kira made a rather passionate defence of her and statement of being more in one scale than the entire man. It was raw and had a very much unrestrained and direct honesty about it. Orion's respect was evident and he seemed to have a different aspect but the other side of the same coin. People seemed to value Sya and what she did and she could not hide the blush and flush of emotions as well as happy tears.

“Thankyou, you …. Do not know how it feels sss… Hard day...“Sya stuttered again and hissed before she moved more rapidly than most would expect someone with such a tail pulling Kira first and embracing her, she was impulsive and knew it, but right now did not care. They were blightborn but they were good people, even if they had their …problems.

She had to refrain from using her tail as her mind tried to humanise her gestures and stop her more… Snake instincts from overriding. Sya let a likely surprised Kira go, before she pushed away letting her muscular lower body glide through the water in a serpentine S pattern before engulfing him in a well meant hug too. “Your friendsss, now you have to drop by the Eye. Bring your gold and enjoy yourself.” Sya just said and a little of her unpredictable Sassy nature as she pulled back not before giving his pecs an appreciative squeeze, firm and muscular.

“He firm, no filler here, all quality steak this one, a good egg this one, Yolk and shell.” Sya said with a cheeky look to Kira as she found a place to recline again and drank a little of the wine. Snaking her tail through the water, Sya watched how the moonlight glittered off blue scales, deep blue and a mix of bright sharp highlights and deep blue moving under the steaming water.

Sya Leant back using her tail to return the wine in a show of dexterity, she had to use that as a method of practice to try and learn to use her limb, first standing and stability, second how to move and then finer controls. She could not be knocking things over and breaking everything about her new body. “My emotionsss are a little… over the place today. I can be impulsive.” Sya apologised a little, but she very much admitted part of her blightborn change was an impulsive nature.

Sya returned her tail closer to her resting it and leaving it half out of the water, keeping warm but not hiding either. She caught them in passing and was a sneaky way to work exactly where they sat, if she felt playful. Sya was a weird character, Foolish, lacking awareness or being dull where very much the opposite of her nature.

“Opps” she said though it was probably clear she was not at all sorry.

Mentions
@Qia@The Muse

Lord and Lady Coswain had a better view of this representation of the church than others, sure she was on the younger side but she had not seemed to have been dragged into political and other battles that some pushed instead of their duty to the moon goddess. Least that was their first impression. “It's less cute when her feet are as cold as a winter peak, but… I still love her regardless.” Lord Coswain said as he dragged it out teasing Persephone and giving the priestess a nod. Truth be told he didn't always feel blessed, he had outlived many people he would rather not have but then again.. He had his family.

“You're lucky I said yes to you” Persephone said with confidence but they clearly were not hurt feelings. “We have not been in ideal times, if you need some time, please take what you need. We are stuck here till spring most likely so not going anywhere.” Attempting a long journey into Lunaris in the winter over the mountains would be foolhardy at best. Persephone shoved a pain in her temple aside, and carried on. “I do mean that,” She said, trying to not command but state the facts, if they had to wait for her to get her things together to do it right, well what was a few more days.

The two looked at each other and their was no need to have a verbal extended conversation. After over 20 years you just knew and they nodded. “We would like you to do it. However we are happy to wait if you need to consult for advice and check what you need to send letters.” Adonis placed a gold coin down to pay for the postal service fees.

They both knew, they had talked and the question was not really a question, the couple gave a nod and carried on. “Subtle as a battering ram Adon…” Though she did not mind and he had tried to help, soldiers were soldiers. Some things never changed. Persephone Massaged her temple and waved it off, just a headache, she had them regularly since the whole eternal moonrise became reality.

“Anyone who wishes to attend is welcome, I'll ask Hector to ensure certain trouble makers stay out, we can always set Daphne on them. I'm sure the Lady Selene would agree, we need a little life in these times. its less custom but times are not normal.” Persephone said, though she could not hide the pain she was in or the fact however many times she had them her partner was making soothing circles on the back of her hand. Correction, he was her soldier, however elevated his rank. They used a different term but it meant the same goddess, the respect was the same though the name was different.

“As.. Ask Sya, her new bakery might be willing to help too. She is… a determined lady. She will make sure as long as you. Pay her.” Even a relatively forward thinking Lunarian It was hard to get over the idea blightborn were openly about, running business, and operating alongside many of the main roles in town. People could take change but slowly, however she did trust Sya to respect gold, and gold was a universal language.

The Pain and pressure grew and she needed some fresh air, she needed to get out… Something for a reason… She had to…”Excuse me, Adon, I need some fresh Air, please finish up for me, i'll be fine…I just need air… Sorry, the… i need air ” She got up and left, giving the priestess an apologetic look and walked out a little less steady as she headed for the door and the lake where the Temple lay on the shore.

“Sure Seph, stay close, il be over soon.” He spoke with concern, she got them and it still scares him however much he knew they would pass.

“My wife, she has had dreams ever since the night it got worse, she means no disrespect. It just gets too much sometimes for her to manage. I just hope this blessing helps in some way.” He could not hide his concern for Persephone and he trusted her to keep their secrets, she was a priestess in a Temple, his gut feeling was telling him she was trustworthy and honourable. “I have never done this before, so please let me know what Information you need, as I will do my best to help. Or you can ask us, my squire or my freinds aid any time.” He said smoothly, who knew if they missed anything or some small detail, Persephone deserved it to be right.

“Also, can you work in Sapphire Blue or purple, they are her favourite colours. I'm not just good with a sword. That and inwould like to add Aurlailans to any honour guard, as a gesture to the Princes unity.” He chose to add, "she would appreciate the touch, flowers are out, but whatever you can make do.” Flowers or greenery would not really be an option in times such as this but there Might be some way to bring her colours she enjoyed into the event. The touch about unity was political but the Prince was their main benefactor now, so they would support it in a small way.

He cast a look back, Persephone would not go far and he could easily track her path in the snow.

…

Persephone had made her way to the lakeshore and sat on a fallen tree looking towards the mountains, the feeling did not lessen, something was coming…

Mentions
@SpicyMeatball