[table][row][cell][img]https://i.imgur.com/20Q9FLv.png[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/241207/12cf164eb0204fbd7bfe1f9acec90dc5.png[/img][/cell][/row]
[row][cell][sub]Location: Tavern / Eastern Gate[/sub][/cell][/row][/table]Zeph shifted uncomfortably at his post outside the tavern, the cold seeping into his bones and making his armor feel heavier with every passing second. Nearby, Abel and Aliseth stood watch with him, two soldiers he had grown close with over the past two months. Together, they had shoveled snow for hours to prepare for the Sun Prince’s grand feast. A feast, Zeph thought bitterly, he had worked tirelessly to help prepare but hadn’t been able to partake in. 
 
Watching someone walk into the tavern, he glanced toward the frosted windows. From inside, the warm glow of lanterns spilled onto the snow, accompanied by the faint sounds of music and laughter. The scent of roasted meats and fresh-baked pastries wafted through the door every time it opened, teasing him mercilessly.

He sighed, his hazel eyes scanning the crowd that gathered outside once more. He was supposed to be watching for threats, but it was hard to focus when he was so hungry and cold. It was sick and twisted to make a man do all this manual labor without sustenance! 

That’s when he noticed her—Princess Amaya. She stood out like a jewel amidst the chaos, her presence commanding attention without effort. Zeph’s gaze lingered on her for a few beats, partly out of admiration and partly because he remembered the orders drilled into every guard in Dawnhaven: the Prince and Princess’s safety was paramount. It wasn’t his direct duty to shadow their every step, but every guard here was responsible for their safety. It was up to them to keep the two safe in this town that crawled with threats around every corner—even if it [i]was[/i] the Prince’s fault that the town was dangerous in and of itself. 

Not that Zeph believed the Princess needed his protection at that moment. She seemed perfectly at ease among the townsfolk. Still, keeping an eye on her was part of the job, and if that meant admiring a beautiful woman for a few minutes, well, who was he to complain?  

Then his stomach growled, a low and pitiful sound, pulling him back to his immediate problem.

His eyes instinctively flicked toward the tavern, then back to his brothers, who remained oblivious to his inner debate. Both stood rigid, their eyes scanning the perimeter like true professionals. They had things handled. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to step inside—just for a moment. Just a few minutes, he told himself. He could step inside, grab something to eat, and be back before anyone even noticed.

With one last glance at the Princess to assure himself she was fine, Zeph shifted from his place by the door and slipped through the tavern door.  

The warmth inside hit him with a welcoming embrace, chasing away the chill from his skin as he removed his helmet. The air was alive with laughter, music, and the rich aroma of freshly baked pastries. He paused for a moment, his eyes catching on the bard playing music at the front of the tavern—a blight-born, clearly, though the crowd didn’t seem to mind. 

Zeph’s attention, however, was quickly stolen by a nearby table laden with food. He made a beeline for it, elated as a waitress offered him a cookie. He accepted it with a grin, biting into the soft, warm treat. Bliss. 

He hadn’t meant to lose track of time. One pastry turned into two, then three. He lingered there for some time, enjoying the music and the warmth, the tension in his shoulders easing for the first time all day. By the time he remembered where he was supposed to be, the bard had stopped playing his tunes and the chatter of the patrons grew to replace the noise. 

[color=98A869]“[i]Fuck.[/i]”[/color] he cursed under his breath, shoving the last bite of a pastry into his mouth and hastily brushing crumbs from his hands. Panic flickered in his chest as he put his helmet back on, slipping back outside. 

But when he returned to his post, Abel and Aliseth were gone—and so was Princess Amaya.  

For a moment, he stood there in silence, the snow crunching under his boots as he scanned the area for their whereabouts. He’d been gone for what—ten minutes? Maybe twenty? It couldn’t have been longer than that. 

[i]Great.[/i] Now he would have no one to talk with while he stood here another hour longer.

He sighed, resuming his position. The Princess likely requested their assistance for something—the royals tended to be so needy. And Abel would give him hell for this later, he was sure of it. 

[color=FA8072][b]“Hale.”[/b][/color]

Zeph met eyes with another guard, Captain Varick—his superior, who narrowed angry dark brown eyes at him.

[color=FA8072][b]“Gate duty. Now.”[/b][/color] Varick commanded, glaring daggers. Apparently Zeph had not gone unnoticed. 

[hr]

The eastern gate stood eerily quiet, blanketed in snow and shadows, with the wind whistling through the gaps in the wood and stone. Zeph exhaled slowly, watching his breath cloud and dissipate in the frigid night air. Gate duty. Of all the assignments he could have tonight, this was one he dreaded most. Long hours of staring into the dark, counting snowflakes as they fell in an endless spiral. He’d been at it for two hours now, and his stomach was already protesting, the pastries he’d snagged earlier had only been a temporary reprieve. If only he hadn’t gotten caught sneaking off at the tavern, he might have been warming up with a bowl of stew right now instead of freezing his ass off. 

He sighed and glanced up at the moon, its pale light making the snow shimmer like a sea of tiny diamonds. Beautiful, sure, but it didn’t make him hate gate duty any less.  

The crunch of snow pulled his attention, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of his sword. At first, there was nothing but the faint sound of the wind whistling through the trees. Then it came—a voice, soft and barely audible, carried on the wind. 

His grip on the sword tightened as the figure came into view—a humanoid silhouette with broad, bat-like wings behind them. A doubled set of glowing eyes, cutting through the dark like lavender embers. 

Blight-born. 

He had seen plenty of them in Dawnhaven, and had fought more than a few in the past, too. They always set him on edge, no matter how harmless some claimed to be. This one was no exception.  

[color=98A869]“State your—”[/color] Zeph began, his voice steady, but before he could finish, a sharper, more authoritative voice rang out from behind him.  

[colour=goldenrod]"Halt traveller! You have reached Dawnhaven. Declare your name and intentions."[/colour]

Zeph glanced over his shoulder to see the source of the interruption. Aliseth, stepping forward from the shadows of the gatehouse. Zeph arched a brow, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes. For a moment, he wondered what had brought Aliseth to the gate. Was he here on orders too? Or did he want to talk about the Princess, perhaps? Zeph nearly smirked. It would be just like Aliseth to have some interesting tidbit to share about the mysterious ice Princess—hopefully something that would be juicy enough to brighten an otherwise dull night.

He couldn’t help but notice the tension in his friend's jaw, though, and the way his hand hovered above an empty scabbard. Where was his sword? Why had he come to the gate without one? Was that… blood? There was something off. 

Zeph furrowed his brow in confusion, but didn’t speak up—not in front of the blight-born. He’d have to ask once they weren’t staring down a creature at the gate.  

Zeph returned his focus to her, letting her appearance sink in. Her haggard appearance was hard to ignore—clothing patched and frayed, her figure hunched slightly as if weighed down by exhaustion. How long had she been living in the wilds? If he didn't know any better, he'd think her a damsel in distress.

[color=98A869]“Well?”[/color] Zeph said, breaking the silence. His voice was casual, almost conversational. [color=98A869]“You heard him. Name and intentions. We don’t bite—”[/color] he glanced sidelong at Aliseth, smirking faintly, [color=98A869]“—unless, of course, you give us a reason to.”[/color]

[hr]

[sub][b]Interactions:[/b] Aliseth [@Dark Light], Nesna [@enmuni][/sub]