???

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Murder scene

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Trudging through the snow in the dark, a young man in town guard uniform was cold, tired and confused. He stumble about following fresh tracks laid out before him. He could only just make them out under the starlight. He didn't know why he was following them or where he was going, but all he knew was that he couldn't stay still out here, for that would mean certain death. His movements had a hint of frantic urgency and he felt a fear that he couldn't quite explain.

His hands and feet were both already numb and he was shivering badly by the time the tracks lead him to a road, and while he didn't know what to expect, it certainly wasn't this.
In a wide radius the snow was gone and had been replaced by a thin sheen of ice instead. In the centre of this strange circle stood a tall monument to the carnage that had recently transpired here. Twisted shards of ice reach up to the sky standing taller than a man and as sharp as swords.

A feeling of utter dread sat heavily in his stomach as he look at it. This place, this ice triggered something in his subconscious, but no matter how much he try focus on it, it was simply buried too deep for him to see. So he did the only thing he could. He slowly, nervously, circle the jagged ice sculpture.Blood was splattered all over the other side. Dark crimson rivulets running down to the floor. On the ground a headless body lay. A few feet further away, a faceless head. The confused guard quickly turn away as he expel the contents of his stomach. The vile acids burning his throat as he cough and spit. He, he knew that person.

Dropping down beside the corpse, tears started to run from his eyes. They came slow at first as he fought them off with clenched teeth, but once they started he could not stop them. They were silent tears. Tears of anger and frustration. He felt that he cared about this person but he also didn't know who he was.
He grabbed the head and put it to the body, but it offered no clues. Only blood. WHY COULDN'T HE REMEMBER!?He let out an aimless loud shout. A roar of sadness and frustration. Slamming his fists into the ice. He didn't know what was worse, the bloody scene before him or the fact he didn't know this headless man, or even himself.

For a spell he just sat there with the corpse, his clouded mind battling with itself. Searching for answers, searching for meaning. Trying to understand what happened here, who was he, what went so wrong. What was he to do next.

Persephone sighed, crunched up her eyes as she held her head and vision blurred, it was a full blown migraine and she looked out into the distance. Each time she opened her eyes she saw a pain into her eyes and closed then again. It felt like something that was forcing its way into her mind, something that was forcing her to see it.

Much as she tried to resist it the pressure Built up like water against a wall, each moment it built up in the flood till it washed the walls she erected away 1 by 1 till the full weight of the vision hit her.

Painfully and slowly she cracked her eyes open, slowly she saw a light fuzzily form into her vision, it was a blurry form, the shape was phasing in and out of existence. She rarely had such things waking, but her abilities were somewhat unrefined to say the least. She had been boosted beyond her sklill to use her abilities.

Slowly she forced her mind to concentrate on it despite the blinding pain she was feeling, Persephone was used to pain and a harder life, duty was not a easy path. A shape came to slowly form, golden lines Slowly resolved, silver and gold, the form of an animal, it was a … A wolf, slowly silver shifted into the form of an dark wolf letting tears of gold fall to the surface of the lake, but it moved across it like it was solid ground.

The entire scene started to slowly…glitch and it's movements where choppy, out of sync, the wolfs head looked at her directly before turning away with a choppy motion like a slowly spinning shadow play item, too slow to be smooth. Persephone watched unsure as to its meaning or who sent her this vision, her own mental stress or had selene showed her somthing?

It's passage across the lake was jerky, phased and leaving a trail of that gold that flickered and moved in her vision, it made her brain hurt to just look, Her eyes burned as she watched it, and it's passage. It phased one last time into an mountain area past the lake, the gold faded, the wolf was not longer seen and it's only sign was ice left on the lake to prove it was real and even that faded away completely to nothing at all.

Persephone mind gave up fighting.



…

Lord Coswain was about to quietly sit and make arrangements before a scream broke through, a scream of panic and pain not a scream and shout of joy. “Mi lady, duty calls, il leave my wife in your care. Selene bless you, il stop whatever that is before it gets here. That or die trying.” He did not run, but strode out drawing his long sword, the long steel blade had the worn acid etched design of a Paladins Oath Still just about visable in the light.

“Seph.. Seph…” He called striding over following her foot steps and finding her holding her head with a whimper, and keeping her eyes closed. “Seph, I know your hurting.” He did not need to finish, that as she forced herself to stand and moved shakily to the Temple. She knew him too well, he knew her too well.

“Be safe.” She simply said and kissed him before she made her way to the Temple and forced herself to make way to the door, each step was a effort, each one harder than the last but she made it to the door and slammed the draw bar down before she fell to the floor, her last thought was reaching out the icon of Selene in thanks and hope of protection. “Selne,... pro.tec.t….Adon….” She managed before she lost all concious thought.

But she had barred the door, her duty was done. She was sprawled out where she fell, one hand reached out though thankfully her cloak had got caught about her padding some of the fall..

…

Adonis Coswain watched the door close with a heavy heart, but duty was this way. He walked forward looking carefully, heavy sword raised in a guard position ready to strike. Each step took him a step away from his love, but duty was his to walk into the dangers not away from them.

His powers where on the very edge of his mind as he moved, fluidly and quickly ready to be unleashed at a heart beats momment, a mere slither of time to decide life or death. He moved with purpose and the pace and form of a seasoned warrior, not rushed but smooth, efficient as he scanned each area ahead and above.

“Freindly to me, Royal Guard.” He called Out with a tone of command, either he drew his foe away from the vulnerable, or the civilians to him. Both worked, he would damned, dead if it be do his duty to them and face what lurked In the darkness.

He had slain monsters, men, and more though this was hardly ideal he was not going to show cowardice, he faced whatever it was, speed would be be his weapon though not as fast as his Squire, she was lithe and fast like none he had ever trained with, he had speed, skill…and experience on his side.

“To me if it's safe. What's going on?” He asked as he advanced, he did ot know what was going on, but something was wrong, the chance was that others were too far here, he would have to work with what he had, or had not in case that may be.

...
Mentions
sub]Collab between Amaya @c3p-0h, Elara @Qia, Valthyr @Fetzen, Vellion @Dark Light@Dark Light

Aurora Halliwell

Eye of The Beholder
Outside the Inn

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Aurora took a cautious step back, positioning herself slightly behind the monk to grant the princess the space she needed. She stood silently, her attention focused intently on the princess’s words. When she heard the princess express her worries about her legs, a gentle smile tugged at the corners of Aurora’s lips, a silent gesture of encouragement and empathy.

At that moment, the monk beside her spoke up. His voice was calm and soothing, attempting to reassure Aurora that the man they were helping would be fine. Aurora’s mind churned with thoughts, her brow furrowing in concentration as she silently thought, I’m not worried about the stranger; I’m worried about the princess.

Suddenly her train of thought was interrupted by the monk’s unexpected comment, calling her “kitty cat.” Aurora’s eyes widened in disbelief-she had never anticipated that a monk would say that, especially in such a situation. The surprise left her momentarily speechless, and she could only listen to the conversations that were taking place.

After a moment, she gathered her composure and replied with quiet determination, “I will stay here as you said to my Lady.” With her voice steady, she turned her gaze to the stranger who stood nearby. A feeling of suspicion settled within her as she scrutinized him closely; something about him felt off to her, but she couldn’t place what it was. The unease lingered in her mind, a puzzle she was determined to solve.

Once again, the monk drew Aurora out of her thoughts. She heard his calm voice making a statement to the stranger, and in a gentle gesture, he ruffled Aurora’s hair. This simple act brought a rush of memories flooding back to her memories of her father, who would do the same gesture whenever she got lost in her thoughts and worries or when she stared into space, deep in contemplation.

The warmth of nostalgia filled her heart, but it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of emotions. Tears began to form in her eyes, and she instinctively looked down, focusing her gaze on the ground beneath her. Her hand clutched tightly around the pendant that hung around her neck, the one that held a small, cherished picture of her parents.

As she stood there, absorbed in her feelings, she noticed that the princess, her lady-in-waiting, the stranger, and the guards had quietly walked away, leaving only herself and the monk behind. The silence hung thick in the air, punctured only by the muffled sounds from the tavern. Taking a deep breath, Aurora felt the heaviness of her heart but resolved to break the silence. Slowly she lifted her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and mustered the courage to introduce herself.

“Hello, I’m Aurora Halliwall. Who are you?” she managed to say, her voice steady despite tears threatening to fall. She fought to maintain her composure, hoping to shield her emotions from the kind-hearted monk standing before her.

Gadez @Dezuel

---

^{Fade-To-Black Counter - 0}

---

The twins looked to each other in silence for a long few moments, silently communicating a mutual sentiment without even the slightest of the movements. Whatever the Prince had wanted with Tia, it didn't seem good. The two let out an audible sigh, idling in place for a long few moments as they tried to grasp what to do following their mentor's rapid disappearance. It was Ranni who broke their stupor for, drifting forwards through the temple in a silent-yet-graceful movement. Steadily making her way past the pews, with her fingers lightly dancing across their tops as she passed. She didn't speak, lost as she was within her own thoughts.

She didn't stop, not even as she reached the steps up to the brazier holding the brilliant flames of Aelios. Only as she reached their summit, and stepped past where the Priests would typically lead sermons from, did she stop. The girl fell to her knees, head bowed and eyes shut tightly. Her hands clasped at her chest, yet her mouth did not move. Her prayers remained, so she thought, between herself and Aelios. Yet... her thoughts broke free of the cell of her mind. Emotional turmoil seeming to slam those quiet thoughts out with a renewed vigor that far outmatched the previous flows of psychic energy.

---

---

Dyna watched on in silence as Tia and Prince Flynn disappeared. Wondering if, for a moment, she should invoke her duty as a Champion to follow. To ensure the Priestess' safety, as she didn't much like the obvious tension in the air between the two. Albeit for more selfish reasons than that of duty alone, Dyna wanted to ensure she was there for Tia. The woman had clearly suffered so much, and after all the good she'd done for Ranni in the past... Dyna wanted to return the favor. Yet, she also knew better than to interject herself into such matters as a private talk with the Prince. So, the Champion decided she would wait for now. Until such time as Tia showed a reason for her to get more involved.

This concentration was soon broken, however, as she spied Ranni steadily moving forward from the corner of her eye. Turning to watch her sister, Dyna watched as the girl approached the altar. A sense of comfort, no doubt, in something so familiar to her. Dyna gave her sister space, even as she ascended the altar, knowing that Ranni likely needed this... after all she'd been through. So even when her sister dropped suddenly to her knees, Dyna did not find herself filled with worry. Instead, moving to stand near the first row of pews and kept a watchful eye on her sister's prayer.

What she was not prepared for, however, was to hear Ranni's prayer. To hear every word within her own mind as if she were the one speaking it. Yet, strangely, she could clearly see that her sister's lips weren't moving. Dyna recoiled physically, taking a step back and steadying herself as she realized. She'd been hearing and feeling her sister's thoughts throughout the day. A product of her... new form, no doubt. Yet even as the shock from this realization was shook from her mind, Dyna once again found herself staggered by the words she heard her sister to be speaking. The pleas she made.

The horrific visions and experiences she shared from her sister's memory.

The impact was enough to shake the Champion from her stupor, even as she saw Ranni hold her arm over the flame. Begging for either immolation or salvation. A plea, meant in part, to spare Dyna herself from some false hopes about their being reunited.

She didn't speak the harsh retort she had to that thought, instead starting up the altar and reaching for the collar of her twin's robe. Intent on yanking the young woman away from the flame, and refusing to lose Ranni for a second time.

@PrinceAlexus

Aliseth

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Murder scene

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He barely heard the newcomers firm words as they punctured the silence. His mind trapped elsewhere faraway in muddled thoughts and hazy memories. Eventually the words did reach him after the second time. Startled he twist to see the dark figure of the guard approaching, sword drawn, steel glinting in the faint starlight. Aliseth drop the bloody faceless head and scrambled back defensively.

"No. It, it... it wasn't me. I wouldn't do something like this." He blurt out, holding his empty, cold, bloody hands out before himself. Not sounding too sure of himself. He noted the man's armor and relax just a little. Visibly still on edge and extremely cautious, Aliseth called out from a distance. "Who are you? What happened here?" He demanded.

_{Interacting with: Daphne @PrinceAlexus
Location: The Eye Of The Beholder}

---

That whole situation had backfired in a manner of... somewhat subpar amusement potential. All Valthyr had wwanted to do was follow the two girls towards the temple and now he had to make a choice between following them at great speed or abort and... he didn't even know yet.

Maybe do something about the mess left behind ? While he had no clear picture of Dawnhaven yet, basic human judgement dictated that chances were its inhabitants wouldn't exactly be relaxed about what looked, or rather even was, a serious crime scene.

Without knowing whether either Amaya or Elara would even finally notice him for real and allow him to follow him into whatever kind of refuge they might probably have been seeking, Valthyr ultimately decided to do just that started to backtrack his own, very feline footsteps towards the Eye Of The Beholder. There was enough of an unobserved route available for him to return to his alter human ego.

Whether anybody would notice the gradual transition from a small cat to a very large male now imprinted in the snow behind him ? The thought crossed his mind, but the track would go lost once inside the tavern at the latest and his anonymity regained.

Good thing his feet had had a chance to warm up again while there had been fur around them. The last bit until he finally reached the main entrance felt freezing enough already. The air rushing towards him felt almost hot and, while his mind perfectly knew it was nonsense, it also felt stiffer. The poor music having to fight its way through all that viscous atmosphere! How much better than it already was might it have sounded in clean, crisp air ?

He was not here to partake in the kind of festivities obviously going on, even though the discovery of an improvised dance floor gave raise to temptations. He was here to notify somebody about what he had just witnessed so not to burden his conscience with it for longer than necessary and then to maybe go back and help clean up the mess before things escalated in some way.

It was not an entirely altruistic move however. Valthyr knew his deception -- though technically it was not really an illusion --, was not impervious to anybody and anything trying to take a nosy gander behind the curtain. If somebody got a hunch about him being a shapeshifter, became aware of the bloody patch lingering far outside there, and then connected the dots in the wrong way possibly fueled by some silly superstition or false beliefs, then he could be in trouble while actually innocent!

As the big man's eyes scanned the room for anybody who didn't appear all too preoccupied, he locked his gaze onto a Daphne. Valthyr had no idea she actually was a guard and thus probably one of the most suited individual to talk to right now, but his instincts told him she might be hailing from the same kingdom as he did. Not to burden any of the Aurelians here with distrust by default, but still this could make things a bit easier.

He approached her still on bare feet and tried to speak in as much of a relaxed voice as he could muster at this point: "Excuse me ? Something's happened and I might need your help!"

Very direct and straightforward ? Yes, most likely. How could he have done it differently though ? Time was something he could not really afford and not having any detailed knowledge about anybody in here, just addressing the first one he could get a hold of felt like the best strategy to him. Also bluntness could serve as a distraction to delay discovery of the blatant oddities about himself.

Gadez's eyes wandered over Aurora abit further, she was certainly putting on a brave face. This was something that the blonde monk could appreciate. He made note of her holding unto the pendant. Something of importance to her for certain. A trinket which reminded her of someone dear to her? He felt a strange feeling in his chest that he had not felt for years. Loss. He had lost not only someone, but something aswell. But perhaps it was for the better, what use was there to dwell on a past you couldn't change?

"Aurora... the name of the northern lights in the sky. Ahh, we certainly could use more of you in these darkened days. I go by the name of Gadez Paladice, I am a simple gardener, performer, snake-charmer, monk, warrior, puppeteer and if we are including things said upon stages... a golden star lost to time." He said softly, having turned to face her again, walking up close to her, and reaching out with his hand to try lift her chin up with his index finger.

"Keep your head high, fair light. The skies may have gotten dark, don't let your heart become like it. So keep that chin up, smile and approach the morrow believing it will be better than the day before it. People may be lost along the path, but are they truly fully gone when you carry them with you always? In your memories. As long as you remember, in a manner of looking at it, they never truly die." He offered a reassuring warm smile to Aurora and then tried to place his hand on her cheek, and use his thumb to stroke across it.

"Make sure you'll get something good to eat and drink, you need the strength, not only for yourself, but for the sake of those who still need you. Be certain to visit the Aelios temple and the hotspring once you have the time, I would have loved to take you there myself, but I have something I need to take care of which concerns Dawnhaven as a whole. As much as I may disagree with many others, Dawnhaven is indeed one of the last hopes for our world. Which is why I intend to make certain that it succeeds. Stay clear of men like the one who approached the princess or that slimy bard inside the inn, those kinds of men care for nothing but to have others be enthralled by their lies. The sweeter the melody, the more poisonous it typically is." Gadez said softly and walked over to get a bowl with some food and a wooden spoon, plus a little wooden plate as a lid for the food to keep warmth.

"Even priestesses have to eat. Even special ones." He said and winked, before giving Aurora a butlerlike bow. "Til we speak again, light of the north." He waited just long enough to hear any replies then politely excused himself as he headed towards the Aelios temple with slightly swifter steps than usual to make sure the food would remain warm. His eyes would look around to make sure he wasn't followed or spotted. Then upon reaching and entering the main door, he shut it behind him. Stepping inside and spotting two blondes, these were the same ones he had seen earlier by the inn. He sadly didn't have the time to converse with either one of them for the time being, he had to speak with Tia.

On his way however he was met with a familiar sight, it was Prince Flynn, without the girl which he had taken off the stage with him. What business did he have in the temple? Curiousity killed the cat, but this monk was no cat. A little prying was in order. But first...

"Red Star, you may wish to hurry to your princess Maize, she is being preyed upon by a hungry wolf. Seek the prints in the snow left by a grimalkin, a feline and you may find her. Hopefully in time. Make haste if you care for her." He said in an hushed but urgent tone to Flynn, the seriousness on his face unmistakable, there was no hint of jesting at all.

To follow footprints in the snow would be difficult, with so many humans about, but cats were less common. And he had taken note of that particular cat deciding to follow the princess, her maid and the two guards on escorting that young man away. Who did it belong to? He wasn't certain, but if there was any truth to sayings, curiousity may have possibly killed it. Either way there wasn't anything further he could do to aid the prince nor the princess. A bird which never would leave it's nest would never learn how to soar, or even fly.

He gave Flynn a nod and then moved towards Tia's personal door.

He moved with swift steps towards her bedroom door, assuming she would be there when not in the main temple chamber. If not, perhaps the hotspring would be the place?

The blonde reached out to knock on the door.

_{Interactions/Mentions: @c3p-0h Amaya}

---

Flynn's thoughts scattered at the sound of approaching footsteps. His eyes snapped up, landing on the blonde puppeteer from earlier in the day. Flynn narrowed his eyes, instinctively wary. What was he doing here? Stalking him? Ready with another round of cryptic nonsense? Flynn was in no mood for theatrics.

But then, Gadez spoke.

To Flynn’s surprise, his hushed, urgent tone carried no trace of mockery. The expression on his face was grim, with no sign of that menacing smile he so often wore. Despite Flynn’s best efforts to remain unaffected by this lunatic, a knot of anxiety began to form in his chest.

Princess Maize preyed upon by a wolf. The mere suggestion set him on edge. But was Gadez talking about Nyla, whom he brought on stage and called a Princess, or did he actually mean Amaya?

His mind flashed to his last interaction with Amaya, recalling the dark-haired stranger—the way he had smiled at her. The thought made his jaw tighten.

Flynn remained silent, untrusting but unwilling to dismiss the warning outright. When Gadez moved past him, Flynn paused, glancing back, debating whether or not to investigate further. ‘Why tell me this?’ He wondered. ‘What game is he playing now?’

Flynn frowned, his gaze flicking between the puppeteer and the door to Tia’s room, where Gadez stopped to knock. ‘What is his business with Tia? Do they know each other?’ The question added to his growing pile of doubts about the Priestess. What else had she neglected to tell him?

Deciding not to linger, Flynn turned away. ‘He’s just trying to get under my skin,’ he told himself, refusing to give Gadez the satisfaction of a reaction. Still… If there was even the slightest chance Amaya was in danger…. His pace quickened. He had intended to find Amaya after this anyway. Surely, he would find her back at the tavern, and this feeling of sudden dread would have been for nothing. And he would learn not to take this man's words seriously.

Without a word, Flynn continued back down the hall. His footsteps grew heavier as he descended the corridor, doubt creeping into the corners of his mind. Whether or not Gadez spoke the truth, Flynn needed to find Amaya.

Suddenly, a sharp pain at his temples made him wince. His thoughts, already scattered, grew muddled as a voice pressed into his mind—a woman’s prayer? As he rounded the corner, the source of the voice came into view.

There, standing over the brazier, was the blonde woman who had tried to hide behind Tia earlier. Her horns glinted in the firelight, tail flicking behind her. Flynn’s eyes narrowed slightly, observing the way she held her arm out over the flame, close enough that the heat would surely sear her skin. But she didn’t flinch.

As he listened to the prayer weaving its way into his thoughts, he couldn’t help but notice its elegance. This was not a desperate plea of someone borrowing faith for comfort—it was the practiced devotion of a true Priestess. It struck him then—the voice he was hearing was hers. Her words were not spoken aloud, and yet, they resounded in his mind with remarkable clarity. Somehow, she appeared unaware of her psychic projection, her focus entirely consumed by anguish.

His eyes swept over her again, noting the Priestess garb she wore, which he had thought to be a simple loan from Tia. But now, when she wasn’t hiding, he saw the way she carried herself, her posture, her familiarity with the flame. She wasn’t just wearing the robes—she belonged in them.

‘She must have come to Dawnhaven to aid Tia.’ He thought, his brows drawing together in empathy. Had the clergy sent a blight-born Priestess, or had she been taken by the blight during her journey here? Whatever had happened, it hadn’t seemed to strip her of her connection to Aelios.

He noticed the second woman then, golden-haired like the blight-born woman—the Champion of Aelios. The realization dawned on her face as she, too, seemed to hear the prayer. As the Champion moved toward the blight-born, realization settled on him—they were twins. Sisters, despite the stark contrast between them now.

Flynn watched as the Champion reached for the woman, pulling her arm away from the brazier before the heat could leave a more permanent mark. The interruption seemed to break the psychic connection, and Flynn’s mind began to clear, the headache fading into only a dull ache.

“You don’t need to repent for what you’ve become,” he said calmly, his green eyes softening as he took a few steps forward, revealing that he had heard her prayer. “I can’t speak for the Goddess,” he met her gaze, his eyes flicking to the Champion briefly before returning to the blight-born woman. “But, you are welcome here.”

He offered them a small nod before turning and leaving the temple, his mind racing once more. He’d need to ask Tia about this one later, as well as Gadez. And then there was the matter of interviewing the blight-born Priestess before their departure for the blight lands.

But first, Amaya. He would return to the tavern for her, just as he had promised.

---

_{Interactions: Gadez @Dezuel, Ranni, Dyna @Queen Arya}

Nathaniel Stormlight

---

Location: The Alchemy Chambers

---

Sipping on what felt like his fourth or fifth cup of steaming tea, Nathaniel sank deeper into thought, his mind swirling amidst the rich aroma of the blend. Each sip had provided a moment of solace, a brief escape from the whirlwind of preparations for the forthcoming expedition. He had transitioned from the first piece of parchment to his second, jotting down notes in neat, meticulous handwriting beside Eris, who was absorbed in her thoughts. Often making little doodles in the corner of the parchment, it got a little smile from Eris when he would show her.

The tranquil ambience of the room was punctuated from time to time by their spirited discussions, each voice resonating with the subtle excitement that bubbled beneath their conversations about the necessary supplies, as well as more casual reflections on past adventures.

The silence that wrapped around them was suddenly fractured by a firm knock at the door. A muffled voice filtered through the sturdy wooden frame, and moments later, the handle creaked as the door began to open. A woman entered, her presence immediately commanding attention; she appeared to be a Sage, adorned in the traditional robes that signified her wisdom and rank. With a graceful bow, she acknowledged both Nathaniel and Eris, the respect in her gesture evident.

"I apologize for interrupting your discussions, Lead Sage," the woman said, her gaze meeting Eris's with a blend of deference and urgency. "It appears our new Sage possessions have been inadvertently left behind at the inn." Her eyes then flicked towards Nathaniel, who stood up, a frown of confusion knitting his brows as he recalled the implications of her words. Why were his belongings at the inn? An unsettling realization dawned on him; he had chosen to forgo a permanent residence—noticing the fleeting sense of disarray that accompanied it.”I’m so sorry, Eris, it seems I completely forgot about this,” he said with a lighthearted smile, his fingers deftly retrieving his coat from the back of the chair. He slid his arms into the sleeves, adjusting the fit as a playful grin broke across his face. ”You can have the rest of the shortbread” he offered, motioning to the half-empty plate with an inviting gesture.

As Nathaniel passed the Sage at the door, she cast him a sly, knowing glance that seemed to speak volumes; it was the kind of look that hinted at shared secrets and whispered the juiciest of gossips among the other Sages. With a flick of his wrist, Nathaniel conjured a soft glow of light that illuminated the hallway, its warmth contrasting the chilling air outside. As he stepped out from the comforting warmth of the house into the biting cold. Once he was out of range the Sage looked back at Eris, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. “You two seem to be getting along splendidly. You have a soft spot for him, don’t you?” she teased, her tone lighthearted but curious.

Stepping onto the snow-covered street, Nathaniel felt the frigid air nip sharply at his cheeks, each breath escaping his lips in ephemeral, frosty clouds. The bustling sounds of the city faded as his mind wandered to thoughts of his fellow Sages, who should have been by his side during this venture. A heavy sense of regret settled in his stomach as the memories played out—what if they had chosen to wait for the blizzard that engulfed Dawnhaven? Would they all have been together now, united in purpose? Their unyielding pride and yearning for glory often clouded their judgment, leading them towards calamity. Though he felt sure the other Sages would question the absence of their comrades, he couldn't shake the worry of what Eris might think when faced with the budding but fragile connection they had begun to forge. Biting his lip, Nathaniel felt a pang of regret for his earlier comments, realizing how easily they could be misconstrued; she might interpret his intentions as an overture, despite their recent acquaintance.

His reverie was violently shattered by a distant, yet piercing scream that sliced through the stillness, carried fleetingly on the icy wind. Nathaniel halted mid-step, the crunch of snow beneath his boots coming to an abrupt end as he turned his head toward the sound. He scanned the area, desperately trying to assure himself that he had imagined it, but the wide-eyed expressions of two pedestrians passing by told him otherwise—they had heard it too. The couple paused, their gazes fixed on the shadowy outline of the forest looming in the distance. My luggage will have to wait. Nathaniel’s resolve crystallized with those thoughts, as adrenaline surged through him, compelling him to dash toward the direction of the forest, driven by an urgent need to uncover the source of the disturbing scream.

---

Mentions: Eris @The Muse

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

---

Ayel Raunefeldt

Scene of murder

It was a pleasure. Ofcourse it had been. When had meeting him not been?

Ayel smugly stroked his ruffled shirt with his eyes closed as he drank in the atmosphere of accomplishment, that seemed to follow him like an obedient servant.

When next he opened his eyes Eris and Nathaniel were gone.

He was impressed in their etiquette, and seems to have not dared to bother him in his self-reflection. And there was alot to reflect.

Perhaps they felt underequipped in his presence, and couldn't find refined enough words to bid their leave. Perhaps it was his natural magnetism being so strong that they couldn't think. Ayel momentarily considered marriage with Eris, if she was able to make a breakthrough in wiping out the peasant plague he would get credit too. A business marriage might be suitable. He would have to arrange for an official proposal ceremony. None could say no to him, else they were stupid!

'Well, Lord Stormlight certainly was raised better than his peasant-influenced sister.' Ayel shook his head softly, as he began to walk, deciding to take the more scenic route around his new area of governing. After all once the blight would be defeated and the sun restored, whom better to put in charge of the newly established place? He was more than perfect for it.

'The Marquess that defeated the blight.' He mused in his head before he snapped back thinking about Nathaniel's sister. What had been her name again? Isolde? Isarrel? Elsebeth? He had forgotten, after all it had been a few years, and many were the villains which tried to ruin the life of this noble hero.

But he clearly remembered her face and what she did to him. First off, some of the servants, he couldn't remember whose it were. But to his recollection, it had to be hers.

They had put out the wrong kind of spoon for the rich soup served with duck. He shuddered at the idea of mixing cutlery and showing no respect to the dishes. It was like nobles and peasants mixing. It was wrong!

But when he had stood up and berated the servants for their mishandling of the cutlery, in order to save face for the host, which had been Nathaniel's older sister, if his noble memory didn't fail him. When had it ever?

The wicked witch had then punched him. Punched. Him.

Of all sins available to commit, she had gone for one, if not the worst. Nobles never punched. That was a peasant thing. Nobles would slap or in severe cases, where peasants were it the wrong, which was quite often. A backhanded swing across the face was well deserved. He could still feel the sting on his face, she had been lucky that it didn't leave a permanent mark. He dreaded the idea of bearing a scar. That was something for thugs and soldiers, not refined gentlemen. Instead a beard or mustache would have been far better.

But Ayel wouldn't get neither, perhaps it was Aelios wish for him not to cover up his delicate features. He blushed for a moment as he thought about it. If he would have been a drink he would have likely been illegal. Few things were ever allowed to be just this good.
As his thoughts continued to dwell on himself,as they often were, his perfect imagery was shatteree by a scream of agony.

The nobleman froze and raised an eyebrow. That wasn't a very distinguished noble cry. It reminded him more about the mating sounds of those apes of the north. But it was an anguished scream. Had someone run into his sister? No. She was certainly a menace, but typically when it came to her, you wouldn't know you were in trouble until you would eventually wake up.

What if it were some barbarian attacking a pureblood Aurelian? This would be the perfect opportunity to get some leverage against them.

Ayel ran as fast as he could, which was around normal walking speed for most people. He had to be swift and hasty, but graceful as an eagle, no...even more graceful. Was the sound coming from the forest? His noble frame wasn't built for such terrain.

Then as he made his way over he felt something.

He thought he could hear a womans voice, but the wind was being a bother, he couldn't make out much of it. Was it the same priestess that Aelios herself had saw fit to possess to pull him out of the hotspring? Could it be that the scream he heard was a barbarian attacking? Aelios was calling on him to go and aid her chosen hand! This had to be it!

Wasn't the temple of the winter witch closer? Could some of the jealous followers of that cold bitch be messing with his goddess? Not on his noble watch. Forest or no forest. A noble hero such as he would have to risk it.

Even if the idea of the furry little tree terrors still were etched into his memory. They not only ate nuts, they were nuts. It only made sense that his sister had kept some as pets.

Upon arrival at the scene he already found other people there. The culprits or?

His noble gaze fell on them.

Rugged. Grim. Unrefined. The style of armor easily distinguishable. A beheaded bloodied body amidst them.

It was those goddess-forsakened barbarians again! And this time they had sacrificed one of their own to appease their bloodthirsty goddess. It was revolting, but he couldn't look away. Their behaviour was certainly more animal than man. His uncle had been right to make that book comparing Lunarians to mountain apes.

'A ritual sacrifice on my best friend's land of influence, the nerve of those uneducated and thickheaded louts!' He lamented, but he couldn't take them all on himself, they would try the typical peasant thing and cry foul, and then -he- would be in trouble. Because of those goddess-damned border-region treaty-huggers having spread their mental illness to otherwise clearminded Aurelian citizens.

'Wait... I recognize that raisin looking man with the beard, that was the man who was daring to question me! I knew he was up to no good. Aelios thank you for granting me the clarity to see everything for how it truly is.' He looked inwards momentarily, but not too much, he couldn't afford the pleasure right now. While he couldn't likely strike them all down without getting the blame.

He could use his refined skills at diplomacy and coerce them into surrendering. Even though they were little more than animals, even they wouldn't be stupid enough to oppose him.

"By the great trust invested into me, by the true future sovereign of Aurelia and land to come, his highness Flynn Astaros of Aurelia, I, Marquess Ayel Raunefeldt hereby command you to cease with your ape-like sacrificial ritual, and throw down your arms. Your swords, you dimwits! So that I may have justice delivered upon you for staining Dawnhaven with heathen rituals! Go on you rats, drop them weapons and form a line. I shall personally take you into custody. Do not tempt me to use my mastery of magic on you! I might even like it! You hear me?, raisin-face. Drop it." He threatened in as high a voice as he could, raising up one of his hands towards Coswain.

Adonis Coswain slowed his pace and raised his guard at the dark scene, a bloody figure, a head, but this one wore the armour and uniform of the guard, the face however was one he had not met yet, having arrived just before the blizzard.

A fool would drop their Guard and he had not lived this long being a fool, he paused and looked over the figure again with a careful look and chose his words. “Lord Castellan Coswain, You're the one with bloody hands, I came at the screams, what do you know, what's your name soldier?” He was not cruel but he was commanding as he tried to get the man to not break down, to give him information, make him follow orders, react instead of panic.

“Come on lad, I know your shock, but we need to act and protect the town… Help me lad, help is out.” He said more gently, he had to not break his only source of information. Keeping him from a breakdown would be a priority for the situation, he could fail later, he had to carry on for now.

He glanced around keeping his head on a swivel, keeping his ears open and everything open to potential threats to himself and others. They really needed to build a palisade or so round the whole town. The ground would probably be too hard to dig and laying down heavy construction in the deepest winter was dangerous.

“Be careful, priestess, we do not..” His word was cut off as she came up fearlessly and moved over to the man with a gentle nature but utter confidence, he was sure Persephone was safe and protected at the Temple, she was an genuine beliver of Selene, surely Selene would protect her hour of need, he just had to hope and trust. “We are not in a safe zone, keep your eyes open. I strongly suggest we head to the commanders, and get more guards and protect the civilians. Plus id rather you be alive and well for my wedding.” Adonis said warily as of course…of course the one man he did not need to deal with right now blundered into it and decided to make this into a flustercuck of monumental proportions. He said more lightly to the end, he liked this priestess for some reason, and he would not see her hurt if he could help it.

His temper and desire to take the man's head right here and now grew, and grew. He was right now in a combat zone against an unknown foe, Alone, short of reinforcements and needing to get this dealt with instead of dealing with this pompus peacock. “Lord Ayel Raunefeldt, we have an unknown enemy, I have just arrived upon the scene, I shall not disarm myself on the battlefield.” He said with a drill Knights level of how stupid you can get when faced with an idiot of celestial size and magnitude.

He sighed with a deep sigh trying to not break his pompous face with a heavy right hook. "You're a Civilian, This is a Guard matter, this is no time for foolery.. people have died.” He spoke grimly and slowly pronouncing Each word that meant he was trying to keep his mind.

“Lives are in danger, our problems…can wait.” He grumbled mentally saying you over stuffed shit stains in a silken sack, piled higher than a dumb ass recruit with a ladder.

“I really do not have time, drop the act, the most blood you see is probably in a rare steak. We get you to the guard camp, you can wait it out.” He kept his guard and eyes about, he really didn't have time for this.

Mentions
@Dezuel@SpicyMeatball@Dark Light

@PrinceAlexusAyel @SpicyMeatball Kat & @PrinceAlexus Adonis

Aliseth

---

Murder scene

---

Before the man's reply, a woman approached the gruesome sight, not with horror or disgust but with caution and curiosity. Aliseth watched, frozen in disbelief as she knelt down near him and seemed to, with interest in her brown eyes, examine the dead man.

He studied her features intently, trying to determine if he was supposed to know her. As her prayer fades away he carries on. Words soft, barely above a whisper.
"Does this not bother you? What sort of priest are you?" Were his next questions as he sought some level of understanding. Understanding was something Aliseth was greatly lacking in right now.

His attention goes back to the man clad in similar fashioned armour. At mention of his own bloody hands he looked down at them as if only now just noticing. Closing his hands into fists as resolution filled his eyes, he stood up tall.

"I'm sorry. I will aid how ever I can. But... I do not remember what happened here... and I do not deliberately withhold my name. I, I just can't remember it."

He let Lord Coswain address a seemingly confused nobleman as he once again retreated into his mind, wading through the mud.
"It was a blightborn attack!" He suddenly blurts our. "Myself and." He looks to the headless body. "this man." The ache of not knowing his name evident in his voice. "we were.... I think we were on duty. We were protecting someone." he says as he slowly pieces things together.

His eyes run over the scene, searching for more clues, for more memories. Then realisation struck his face. "By the divine moon, the princess!" He suddenly exclaims. "We have to find the princess and make sure she is ok!" Urgency flood his voice, his deep seeded sense of duty calling him to action. Instantly he was wound up and ready to go. But, he didn't know where to direct this focus or where she had ran off to, only that he had to find her and make sure she was safe. His job and duty was the only identity he had and he cling tightly to it. Fearing he had already failed her once he was desperate to find her well, hoping she would be able to tell him more about what happened and who he was.

In no time he found the freshest tracks in the snow leaving the circle of ice and began to follow. "This way! After we secure her highness then I shall go to the captain."

---

Amaya staggered through the door of Elara’s home, gasping at the warmth that enveloped her. It wasn’t nearly enough, but the shift was almost painful – from icy numbness to subtle heat. She barely registered anything more than the sound of Elara’s voice, her presence at her side, the promise of safety and shelter – even if it might not last.

She was so cold.

The ice had grown along her skin, blooming from the wound on her arm. Her blood had frozen to her skin in crimson fractals where it’d dripped down her wrist, across her palm, along the lengths of her fingers. Her own magic was turning against her. It seeped through the cracks of her shattered control. It’d climbed up the length of her arm now, hidden under the thick sleeve of her coat, and emerging along the delicate skin of her neck.

Amaya was shaking. She couldn’t stop shaking. Her breath escaped her in frantic, shallow puffs, and it was all she could do to keep moving forward. Her other hand had wrapped around her frozen wrist, the difference in skin color startling – one a warm brown, the other muted and ashen beneath the layer of bloody ice.

During their journey the cold had stabbed into her like blades, like teeth, claiming every inch of her, seeping into her blood and bones. Now there was only numbness. It weighed her down, made her body stiff and her mind slow.

Forcing herself onward, Amaya stumbled towards the fireplace. Dying embers glowed amidst ash and coal, pulsing like a heartbeat. She all but collapsed in front of it.

Elara rushed to Amaya's side, her heart twisting at the sight of her friend crumbling before the dying embers. The warmth of the room did little to thaw the frost spreading across Amaya’s skin, its jagged, crystalline edges glinting faintly in the flickering light.

“Amaya,” Elara murmured, her voice trembling as she knelt beside her. Her fingers hovered, unsure, over the icy sheen spreading along Amaya’s wrist. The frost bit against her skin when she finally made contact, a cold so intense it felt like fire. The chill radiated up her arms, numbing her fingertips, but she held firm. “Stay with me. Breathe. Just breathe.”

The oppressive silence pressed heavily around them, broken only by the faint crackle of the embers and Amaya’s shallow, uneven breaths. Elara pressed her other hand to the base of Amaya’s neck, just below where the ice crept upward like invasive vines. The skin was lifeless beneath her touch, a frigid warning of how far this had gone. “You’re freezing,” she whispered, her own breath misting in the air between them. “We have to stop this before it gets worse.”

Shadows stirred at her feet, their dark tendrils mirroring her rising panic. They curled protectively around Amaya, dancing like living things in the faint light. Elara’s gaze flicked to the embers struggling in the hearth.

Amaya felt the loss of Elara’s touch like a physical ache, and fear rose up in her with a sudden ferocity. It cut through the frigid haze.

Don’t leave.

Elara leaned towards the hearth, her breath coaxing the dying fire to spark anew. Her trembling hands worked quickly, gathering brittle pieces of kindling from the nearby stack. The wood snapped like fragile bones between her fingers as she fed it to the fire, urgency bubbling up with every piece she tossed in. “Come on,” she muttered, her words a fervent plea to the reluctant flames, as well as to herself.

Finally, the fire flared in reluctant bursts, its warmth stretching weakly toward them.

“Let me help you.” Her hands, steady despite the tremor in her chest, began to glow faintly as she called on her lunar magic. The light was cool, silvery, and soothing as it pooled at her fingertips. She pressed the light against Amaya’s frozen wrist, channelling the essence of her magic into the ice that encased her skin. “I can stabilize it, but you need to help me. Remember, this is your magic—it’s part of you. You can take control of it, but you need to focus.”

But it didn’t feel like a part of her.

Amaya tried to focus on Elara’s familiar voice, the feel of her hand and her magic wrapping around her frozen wrist. She winced, making a helpless sound. Her magic — her magic? No, this was something else, something that prowled and watched her with a predator’s eyes, waiting for an opportunity to break free of the cage she tried to seal it within. It belonged to her just as much as a blizzard belonged to a hapless town.

And Amaya was so tired. Sleep beckoned at her consciousness, her exhausted body. Why fight to stay awake and struggle against the tide? What had fighting ever gotten her? She wanted to cry at the feeling of helplessness that threatened to drown her, if only she had the energy. She didn’t have any fight left in her — but she had Elara. She had her friend’s voice, gentle and warm. The reminder that she wasn’t alone.

It was long work. Agonizing. But crystal by crystal, with the growing warmth of the fire and Elara’s magic, Amaya felt her ice start to melt. Its slow crawl across her body stilled. Her magic didn’t fight — it calmed. It allowed itself to be coaxed back to sleep, back to quiet stillness. By the end of it all, her iice had become water, soaking into the thick fabric of her coat. A fresh blood stain blossomed on her sleeve, diluted by the water. The blood was thin and translucent where it dripped from her fingertips onto the floor.

Amaya breathed a quiet sigh. Needles stabbed along her skin as circulation began returning. Her hand turned to weakly curl around Elara’s wrist.

“Welcome back,” Elara said softly, her voice a gentle caress. With a tender touch of her free hand, she reached out, her fingertips gliding over Amaya’s chilled skin to brush away the damp, errant strands of hair that clung to her forehead. As she tucked the hair behind the princess’s ear, the shadows that had curled protectively around them began to exhale, receding slowly into the quiet corners of the room like a tide drawn away from the shore. Her gaze lingered now on the blood-soaked sleeve, on the pallor of Amaya’s face. This wasn’t over—not yet. But for now, it felt good to know that they were safe.

For now, they simply had each other.

She reached for the blanket draped over a nearby chair, the coarse wool textured against her fingertips. As she carefully wrapped it around Amaya’s trembling shoulders, the blanket appeared to envelop her friend like a cocoon, her slight form framed by the soft folds. In another world, under very different circumstances, the sight of her, snug and warm within the blanket, might have drawn an amused laugh from her lips….

Instead, Elara found herself adjusting the edges, her fingers grazing Amaya's collarbone and shoulders, lingering there just a heartbeat longer than necessary before her legs compelled her to move. She forced herself to let go, though her hand ached with the absence as she pulled back and shifted, her legs moving stiffly from where she’d knelt too long on the hard wooden floor.

“There,” Elara murmured as she added more kindling to the flickering embers, the dry wood cracking faintly as it caught, sending a warm, golden glow spreading through the room. “You’ll feel warmer soon enough.” She watched Amaya carefully for a moment, noting the faint colour that slowly began to return to her cheeks, though her trembling hadn’t yet stopped. “Just rest for now.”

And all Amaya could do was listen. Already, sleep began claiming her, pulling her in an inescapable hold. She was all heavy limbs and muddled, half-formed thoughts as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Elara…

…Stay…

…I’m sorry…

…Please stay…

The last things she knew were the warmth of Elara’s hearth and the phantom echoes of a voice in her head, promising blood.

Then, darkness.

Daphne

Eye of the Beholder

Amazon Action time.

Daphne was watching lightly and resting against a column wondering if she should do a walk about the outside of the Inn and check on people outside, things had calmed down abit and only took a few smaller corrections to keep things lively but not the wrong side of rowdy.

When the man approached her she drew herself to her full height and stood up straighter, more alert and had a sense…a feeling something might be wrong in her heart and head. He had no shoes on, was a man, though she could not quite place him in some ways, he was strange and gave her a curiosity. “What's going on, and where do we need to go?” Daphne said with an quick reaction to the events, she checked her hands to the twin swords resting on her hip, knife to her back and felt the weapon hidden in her boot and elsewhere.. a woman could not be too careful…

Quick hands reached up and tied her dark hair into a loose updo, out of the way and more for business. “So, explain, I'm Daphne, I'm part of Lord and Lady Coswains household. What is to be done? I can handle myself. Cadia teaches you that.” She asked more formally and waited for a reply.

Her thoughts shifted to all the potential outcomes that made her want to rest a hand on a weapon, but she resisted and held her nerve and held her ground mentally, she was not the scared girl who lost her mother, more a awkward teanager who was prone to fall and trip, she was Squire Daphne and she could do this.

Looking at the door, she had a little time while he explained to stay warmer, Lunarian or not, it was cold and hardly welcoming. They were just more used to it.

@Fetzen

Ayel raised his right eyebrow, which by his reckon was the more noble looking of his pair. The lunarian man with the beard, Adonis had at the very least addressed him properly. They were learning. The apes were learning.

'I suppose one can still learn an old mutt to sit. Somewhat.' He mused in his head, perhaps all of this could be pinned on that old fool? The aurelian nobleman thought of all manner of benefits it would have, the more he could drag those already dirty barbarians in the mud the better. The more the gathering spoke however, the more it made Ayel himself think. Although his thoughts were naturally more clear.

'These creatures are not intelligent enough to properly co-ordinate this well, could it be that there is some infighting between these savages? Between the blighted ones and the non-blighted ones. Not like there's -that- big of a difference, both are abberations, abominations in the eyes of Aelios.' He thoughtfully stroked his shirt as he listened and tried to make sense of the barbarians and their horrible accents.

"A civilian? I am noble. You make it sounds like I am some insignificant peasant person. That is hardly appropriate. But then again with your limited education, I certain such things are abound to happen. You are fortunate that I am in a merciful mood today. Guard camp? I will certainly not spend my time in such a place. And what is wrong with rare steak? Except that you clearly cannot afford it?" He scoffed and then set his always scrutinizing noble gaze on Aliseth and Katherine.

The younger guard then told him things which stopped him in his tracks. They had been attacked by blightborn? Peasant upon peasant! They were infighting! Ofcourse they were, they all stem from the same root! But this was such a golden opportunity, to finally prove to everyone just how widespread the issue was. It wasn't just a blightborn issue, it was a matter of class. The peasantry had to be suppressed, new regulations and laws would have to be made. Why were those new-aged nobles in Aurelia so oppositional to slavery? There were benefits to be had. These uneducated and dull creatures would have a much more fullfilling existance where they wouldn't have to do any thinking of their own. Besides it was thinking that often landed them in trouble to begin with.

But this guardsman, in his clear inferior-barbaric ways had spilled words, which by the sounds of them had to be taken as true. Peasants were not clever enough to lie about intricate things. The blightborn attacking and the princess of those unruly barbarians had been taken! Ayel suddenly turned around, tightened his fist and made a low victory arm-pump motion. He couldn't have planned for a better opportunity, the goddess was smiling upon him as always. This was his destiny. To purge the world of those unfit to grace it! And now even the princess had, if all had gone well kicked the bucket aswell! Which would mean that his bestest friend would be free once again from the ball and chain that was marriage, but also from having to deal with some illiterate, toothless and elderberry smelling barbarian woman.

'Aelios! Thank you for granting this blessing upon your most favored child! I will not let the opportunity go to waste!' He mentally chanted as he looked up at the dark sky, before turning to face the gathering again.

Wait a moment. Had those two just uttered a heathen prayer? No matter. It was a minor offense for now, he had to get out of here and tell everyone! His eyes looked over Katherine, she looked at him as he looked upon the snails while out walking. He didn't like it at all. This kind of woman was the absolute worst. Children was to be heard but not seen, women was to be seen but not heard. Wasn't that what it had said in the Aurelian noble eqiquette tome from fourhundred years ago? His thoughts momentarily fell on both his mother and sister which enjoyed to talk. Alot.

He suddenly felt a sense that they had lost their way.

'Maybe if I speak really slow these dull barbarians would be- No. Do not open yourself up for such liberal possibilities. Only disappointment lies ahead on that path, your grace.' He reassured himself and then coughed. He simply shook his head in denial to hearing Katherine calling Coswain a lord. A lord? Him? He was a barbarian! They could not be lords. It was a sham! Shameful mimicry! Faux!

"I, in my vast understanding of the world, shall momentarily set our BIG differences aside! You go and track the trail for your-" Ayel shivered, he didn't want to use the word princess, it felt like he was sullying the title. "Chieftain." The nobleman finally added. That was way more appropriate.

"A blightborn attack? Ahhh- Ahh I knew it! You three will go to whatever barn it is that the lunaris guards are using for a home after tracking down what remains of your chieftain, I shall go and inform the prince at once! You are dismissed!" Ayel made a dramatic twirl on his boots and hurried as fast as he could towards the middle of the town, he needed to find himself an elevated stage to announce that they were under attack, that the peasant plague was taking over and now they had even attacked their own chieftain! This was a dream coming true!

He couldn't believe it. He was moving at a faster speed than before. Like when he was a younger child. He was running? The good news had seemingly affected him to such a degree that it had overridden his years of training in how to gracefully move. But for now he had to ignore it. He had a mission. He had to remain calm and collected while spreading the message.

"We are under attack! The blightborn are attacking! There has been murder most foul! Barbarians at the gate! The lunaris… princess is missing! Oh woe! Oh cruel fate! Over by the forest! They are starting to eat each other! I saw a barbaric ritual in the making! I saw it with my own noble eyes! Go look for yourselves! Grab your pitchforks! Torches! Find the culprits! Hide your children! The monsters are real! Everyone calm down! I shall protect you! Find the blightborn murderers and I shall pay for your drinks for the next three days at the inn! I told you they couldn't be trusted!" Ayel yelled as he ran into the more crowded area, arms flailing, his voice loud, his coat flickering as he ran, trying to find an elevated enough spot to stand on. He pointed towards the area of the dead body and then all around.

"Prince Flynn in his goodness has tried to shield them! And they have exploited it! Spread out! Look for the lunaris princess! Leave no peasant home unturned! Find the guilty blightborn monsters! With me!" The nobleman reached and pulled out a torch from a nearby house wall. "Find the bloody savage!" He yelled out, not clarifying if he meant the blightborn responsible or the princess herself. As he tried to lead, whereof anyone would follow or not. No one was going to ruin this Aurelian outpost on his watch. His bestest friend will surely be proud at the end of the day. Ayel smiled softly. He might get promoted.

---

_{Location: The Sun Temple}

---

---

Tia sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the book in her lap with unseeing eyes. She felt… exhausted. Bone tired in a way that sleep couldn’t cure. Echoes of the Prince’s voice seemed to reverberate around the room. His cutting accusations. His warnings. His cold, detached pronouncements.

The fire he’d lit still crackled in the hearth.

Tia felt the weight of every secret she was still keeping press down on her. All the words she didn’t stay were thick in her burning throat. A question circled her mind again and again: why her?

The Prince, the Queen, the Arch Priest, Aelios... Why make demands of her? What could she possibly offer them? Surely they all would’ve had more qualified, or capable, or worthy candidates to see their wills fulfilled. Tia had her talents, it was true… but none seemed adequate to fill the many roles that were now being draped over her shoulders like heavy cloaks, each one only adding to the suffocating weight until she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe–

And then her body was not her own. She was dying, but it was not her death. A voice that was not hers whispered anguished words that broke her heart. She knew that voice.

Ranni.

The vision was much as it’d been before – the familiar presence of her pupil, commanding every ounce of her attention. And again, there was no blistering heat, no stalking predator that watched her with evaluating eyes.

It’s not a prophecy.

When Tia came back to herself, she knew this with sudden clarity. Whatever the vision was, whatever she’d experienced earlier today outside the temple, they weren’t prophecies. But what were they, then? They’d both centered on Ranni… but she’d never had any propensity for mental magic. Like Tia, she’d been a healer.

A hand reached up to thoughtlessly touch the scars at her throat. The blight. What changes had it forced upon her?

Something warm trailed along the skin of her cheek. Tia reached up to find it was wet – at some point she’d started crying. She sniffled and wiped the tears away.

Hers were not the only troubles in the world. And being inadequate was not excuse enough to shirk her duties. Eyes refocusing, she looked over at the bedside table, her note and two visions still laying atop it. She looked back down at the book that held her two remaining visions – the ones that remained unverified. She needed to look into them, before she could take them to the Prince. How? Tia would… figure that part out. And there was still the matter of the Queen’s letters.

But first… Ranni. Ranni and Dyna were the closest things to family she had left in this world. Having them back in her life was a privilege Tia didn’t think she’d ever be granted again. And now that they were here… it was Tia’s responsibility to take care of them.

And judging by the vision she’d just had, Ranni was somewhere dark. Tia’s heart clenched at the thought of her pupil’s suffering. Forcing herself up, she quickly put the papers and the book back in the table drawer – messier than she normally kept it, and not carefully folded away, but the drawer shut all the same. She gave one last swipe at her cheeks to make sure she wasn’t crying anymore. It wouldn’t do for them to see her in a state – not when she was the one who should’ve been looking after them. Her throat still burned after her coughing fit. She likely wouldn’t manage any words for some time. But the twins knew her better than anyone else in Dawnhaven. She trusted they’d find ways to understand each other.

Allowing herself one last moment in the dim solitude of her room, Tia readied herself. Then she opened the door –

To find Gadez filling the hallway, hand raised as if to knock, and frame blocking out the flickering light of Aelios’ flame.

---

_{Interaction: Gadez Paladice @Dezuel
Mention: Ranni and Dyna Soleil @Queen Arya}