[table][row][cell][img]https://i.imgur.com/sfL4M8x.png[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240501/f05a736427987502b04e7512136c14ae.png[/img][/cell][/row]
[row][cell][sub]Location: Crime Scene[/sub][/cell][/row][/table]Flynn’s chest tightened as he surveyed the scene before him, his eyes falling first on the silvery symbol of Seluna and the lifeless body beneath it. His attention quickly shifted to the Priestess, her body trembling uncontrollably—not with subtle shivers brought on by the cold, but something more intense. Flynn recognized the difference immediately, a memory stirring of his younger brother, Elias, who had battled seizures and illness throughout his entire life. The Priestess shivered in a way that reminded him of how Elias would shake after coming out of an episode, utterly exhausted by it all. Not only that, but she was Lunarian, after all, and dressed well for the weather. Something wasn’t adding up. 

His gaze sharpened, traveling the length of her frame. Her skin seemed almost sickly, even under the amber glow of the torchlight. His eyes lingered on the blood stain at her upper lip, his brows furrowing. It appeared to be the only blood on her, but it was odd nonetheless. She seemed ready to collapse at any moment, despite saying she had only heard a scream, and had not been part of the attack. There was a story here she wasn’t fully telling, but he resisted the urge to let suspicion creep into his expression, choosing instead to school his features into a neutral mask. He needed to observe. To think things through before acting. 

As she gestured toward the northern woods, he noted the way that even her hands seemed unsteady, and his gaze eventually followed the direction she pointed. He studied the trail of footprints leading into the woods, his thoughts turning to Amaya—her magic potentially out of control, fighting for her life, possibly even injured—and his stomach twisted. He couldn’t let himself think anything darker than that. 

Returning his attention to the trembling blonde, he remained silent, studying her closely as words tumbled from her lips. [color=337d71] "Were you attacked as well?"[/color] He asked, his voice firm as his gaze flicked from the blood at her nose to her brown eyes, searching for clarity. 

[color=337d71]“Are you o—”[/color] his next question was barely out of his mouth when Ayel’s sharp voice cut through the air. 

[color=f49ac2][b]"Your highness, I cannot remain quiet any longer-"[/b][/color]

Flynn turned sharply, his gaze narrowing onto his winded childhood nuisance. He could already feel the headache forming.

[color=f49ac2][b]"Your highness… this woman is trying to deceive you! Listen to her, she shakes on her every word! A stutter! And we all know that is what liars do! Remember old Lord Jangharn in the capitol? He stuttered and he was found to be giving coin to the poor! Illegal charity is a serious crime. But this is murd- Well he looks to be Lunarian so I suppose it's more like slaughter.. but no matter! We should apprehend her and throw her into the holding quarters for safety! She could be one of those pestilence-ridden things conniving in secret! If it looks like a witch, it must be one! Your highness, I shall personally lead her to the holding quarters at your command!"[/b][/color]

The way Ayel could twist things to play into his own self-serving narrative was truly an art form, a great feat that no one else could accomplish. Flynn felt the urge to correct him on Lord Jangharn—who had been arrested for funding an underground thieves guild, not a charity—but he held his tongue. Surprisingly, Ayel was not entirely wrong. Flynn, too, believed that this Priestess was attempting to deceive him, though he did not yet know for what reasons. And he wasn’t about to indulge Ayel’s penchant for hysteria. 

He lifted his hand, open-palmed, a clear signal for silence. [color=337d71]“Ayel,”[/color] Flynn said, his voice firm and laced with a warning. [color=337d71]“Enough. [i]Please[/i]. Be quiet.”[/color] The words carried the weight of strained patience, though he tried his hardest not to show how close he was to losing it. He took a steadying breath, his jaw tightening as he resisted the urge to speak through clenched teeth. [color=337d71]“Let me think.”[/color]

As Daphne stepped forward, he listened to her vouch for the Priestess, his expression unreadable. She wasn’t wrong in her assessment; the damage done to the guard was most likely beyond human capacity. Yet, her words didn’t hold much weight with him. Flynn barely knew her, and this only furthered a nagging suspicion he had held since her unannounced arrival with Lord Coswain. Since then, he had carried a subtle distrust for her entire unit who had likely been sent by the King. 

The way she put herself between Ayel and the Priestess didn’t surprise him. Of course the Lunarians would rally to protect one of their own. He just hoped that inclination would also mean keeping the Princesses best interests in mind. They’d want her safe too… right? 

His gaze shifted to the Priestess again as Daphne began questioning her about Coswain, his eyes carefully watching her every movement. The Lunarian clergy were no less political or manipulative than the church in Aurelia, he knew. If anything, they were more dangerous. His fathers warnings of Lunarian subterfuge lingered in his mind, and he couldn’t shake the thought that this Priestess might have her own plans, plans that involved Amaya in ways he could not yet see.

Hearing one of the strangers speak, Flynn’s gaze reluctantly flicked from the chaotic murder scene before him to the man behind him—Valthyr. As he spoke, Flynn looked him over—a wild looking man, giant and towering over the entire group, ill-dressed, though not entirely appearing as someone from a barbarian tribe. 

A faint crease between his brows formed at the mention of Valthyr not being blight-born, but nothing could have prepared him for what happened next. The giant man, who had been speaking so casually moments before, suddenly began to shrink before Flynn’s eyes. 

His composure faltered for the briefest moment, hand moving to the hilt of his sword, but then, a cat—or something like it—emerged from the pile of clothing. As the cat approached and rubbed against him, he instinctively took a small step back. His initial reaction told him this man was blight-born, despite his earlier claim. 

As the man shifted back into his human form, Flynn’s mind raced, searching for an explanation. If Valthyr was not lying, then this was a mastery of illusion magic. Only a handful of Sages had been able to alter their form so completely and that level of magic had not been seen for a century or more, according to the lengthy study of ancient texts he had endured. If this sort of magic was still obtainable, it was fascinating to say the least. Where had it been all this time?

Still, Flynn could not be sure that Valthyr wasn’t just lying—blight-born had many unique traits, with almost none of them sharing the exact same afflictions. There were too many variables to consider to take his word for it. Regardless, the stranger seemed to want to help. For now. 

Flynn glanced toward the others in the group, taking a moment to assess their reactions before returning his focus to Valthyr. [color=337d71]“I can provide you with something belonging to the Princess.”[/color] His suspicion lingered, though he couldn’t turn down the only offer that might actually lead him to Amaya. 

[colour=#C0C0C0]”I would like to have this body, and what's left of the head. Sent back to the Alchemic Chambers. The other sages should be able to take some samples.”[/colour]

Flynn’s attention snapped back to the murder scene, Nathaniel’s request pulling him back. His gaze flicked back and forth between Nathaniel and the body for a moment, realizing now that this stranger was a Sage who worked alongside Eris. His request to take it to the Alcehmy Chambers made sense, but something in Flynn’s gut told him it wasn’t as simple as that. 

His mind drifted to the strict Lunarian funeral traditions, based heavily in spirituality. Lunarians were fiercely protective of their customs, especially concerning the dead. To allow a body—especially one as mangled as this one—to be taken for research would incite outrage, and Flynn couldn’t afford to add more fuel to the fire. The Lunarians were already on edge, the news of their Queen’s death still fresh, and this murder coupled with the missing Princess would only add to the tension. To add another offense to the already volatile mix could spark something dangerous. 

His response was firm, his voice a bit colder than usual. [color=337d71]“I cannot allow you to take the body,”[/color] he said, meeting Nathaniel’s eyes. [color=337d71]“It is a violation against sacred Lunarian tradition.”[/color] His gaze flicked briefly to the Priestess, who looked as though she might pass out, barely registering what was going on. Whatever was going on with her, it would have to wait. Amaya took priority over all.

[color=337d71]“The body will be taken to the temple. We will ensure that this soldier receives a proper send-off.”[/color] his eyes shifted to Nathaniel, [color=337d71]“I need you to stay with the Priestess, help her get the body there. I trust you understand…”[/color]

Turning his attention, he locked eyes with Lord Coswain’s squire. [color=337d71]“Daphne, stay with the Priestess as well. Protect them and assist in any way you can.”[/color]

Finally, his gaze moved back to Valthyr. Despite the bizarre circumstances surrounding the man’s transformation, he was now the only hope Flynn had at tracking down the Princess quickly—assuming he hadn’t been lying. [color=337d71]“You’re with me,”[/color] Flynn gestured at the giant, still unsure of his name. 

Reluctantly, he turned toward Ayel, knowing full well the complications of bringing him along. But Flynn could not afford to leave him unchecked. Not now. Not when everything felt as fragile as it did. Flynn would have to carry this burden, and keep Ayel close. [color=337d71]“Ayel, I need you with me too.”[/color] he said, playing at Ayel’s ego by saying he was needed. Flynn knew all too well how to get the man to comply, which, at times, had made him feel guilty for the manipulation. But desperate times called for desperate measures… 

Without another word, Flynn turned, signaling to Valthyr and Ayel to follow him as he began to follow the trail of footsteps leading into the forest. [color=337d71]“Stay sharp.”[/color] he instructed as they trudged through the snow, it’s cold bite creeping up his legs. Shifting the torch to his nondominant hand, Flynn unsheathed his sword with his right, the cold metal a reassuring weight in his grip, ready for anything that might emerge from the darkness ahead. 

[hr]
[Sub][b]Interactions:[/b] Ayel [@Dezuel], Daphne [@PrinceAlexus], Valthyr [@Fetzen], Nathaniel [@Echotech71], Katherine [@SpicyMeatball][/sub]