Snake Slipway - Last Night...
The next evening was Bonfire Night - a tradition from long before the Castle's memory. Everyone would be out that evening, setting fire to heaps of wood and dwelling in spaces normally confined to those who enjoyed the cover of darkness - criminals, witches, and delinquent teenagers alike. This couldn't wait for Bonfire Night. He had done his research, identifying Margrave Terricus as the culprit behind a brutal murder in the Port. Terricus had killed a widow in front of her children, orphaning them all for a family heirloom worth a pretty pence on the black market.
Warpaint covering his face, designed to look like a skull, he put his hood up. He spotted his mark - Terricus - emerge from one of the homes on Snake Slipway. Putting a hand to his head, the vigilante took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing on the mind of Terricus. It was a filthy and disgusting place, filled with violence, lust, and gluttony. Grimacing a bit, he placed a simple command into his mind.
Stop breathing, Antonije Magnisky ordered. He opened his eyes again, observing that there was no one in the street. It was nearing midnight, the witching hour. He emerged from his hiding spot in the alley, walking up towards Terricus, seeing the pathetic and slug like man gasping for air. However, Terricus could not fight off Antonije's hold on his mind.
"Margrave Terricus, you have failed your city," he told him calmly. He stared straight into his eyes, feeling no remorse or mercy. Terricus' veins were bulging slightly and he reached out, trying to grab Antonije to free himself but Antonije adjusted the command slightly. Don't move. The silver haired boy watched as Terricus, unable to budge, fell unconscious. Retaining a hold on his mind, Antonije waited a few minutes, before checking for a pulse.
There was none.
Antonije smirked, admiring his handiwork for just a moment, but he knew he couldn't stay very long. He needed to get home before anyone noticed he had been gone. Putting his hood back up, Antonije walked down the street, heading towards his place in the Ramblings. He'd continue his work soon enough - with Bonfire Night happening the next evening, his target would have to be one that remained indoors. There could be no witnesses.
Present Day - The Castle: November 5th, 12,508 - 7:30 PM
For the past six months, Mona has been experiencing an unusual dream. There is nothing inherently strange to it, aside from the fact that it is the only thing she can dream about and each time, the dream is exactly the same. Her dream consists of her walking into a chamber lined with green fire, the unusual color of the flames giving an eerie glow to her surroundings. No natural light comes inside and there are no windows. The quality of the air suggests that she is underground. At the end of the chamber, this man sits on a grandiose throne. "How long until the troops are ready?" the man asks. Each night before, Mona would wake up before anyone could respond. The previous night, however, she heard a voice answer: "At the end of the week, Lord Hellfire."
As for Amarantha, everything has been going more or less as she wished it to. She has been put in charge of security for the Saecular Games, as well as given a lot of input as to what sort of challenges should be featured for this historic event. The opening day for the Games is at the end of the week of Bonfire Night, meaning that residents of the Castle have plenty to look forward to. There hasn't been another appearance of Apollodora just yet, but Amarantha and Mona have continued to more or less work together. And hey, Amarantha's favorite weapons designer returned to the Castle about a month ago, meaning she is once more able to get whatever she needs from Antonije.
With the Royal Family, things have not been as great as they could have been. Queen Valda has a lot on her plate, with the Eastern SnowPlains kidnapping sailors from the Port and forcing them to join their naval forces in the fight against the Land of Long Nights. The Land of Long Nights has threatened to stop trading with the Castle, if the Small Wet Country Across the Sea does not join the war efforts against the Eastern SnowPlains. Add onto this the mysterious murders in the Castle and well... She is going to need the help of her family and advisors to sort everything out. Luna's mental illness is just getting worse and worse, and while Myrus' mental state has stabilized, he still needs a lot of work with his powers.
The Palace Courtyard...
Myrus was smiling for once as he stood outside in the courtyard, breathing in the crisp autumn air. The sun had set about an hour ago, but there was plenty light from the large bonfire set up in the courtyard. Various residents of the Castle had come here and were sipping hot cider that was being provided by the Palace cooking staff. There were little kids running around happily, carrying little dolls that they then tossed into the flames. Antonije Magnisky was getting himself a cup of cider to drink, his hands shaking slightly from the cold.
Myrus drew his red cloak a little tighter around him, letting himself enjoy this moment. He had been so stressed about Fleur and tonight was supposed to be a night of celebration. Bonfire Night was about burning away those who once threatened the Castle - as well as those who might seek to do so. The dolls represented criminals that people wished gone - Myrus had a doll in his hand he made to resemble Fleur and he tossed it into the flames, feeling a weight be lifted from his chest.
"...Oh, Mavis, hi," Myrus greeted, spotting his ex-girlfriend as she came face to face with him. He looked a bit sheepish, putting his hand behind his head.
"Myrus," she greeted with a smile, wearing the black robes of the Senior Alchemie Apprentice. "Selesia's sorry she couldn't make it... It's too hard on her, the first Bonfire Night without Arya," she explained to him, referring to her master and the mother of the late ExtraOrdinary Wizard, Arya Rincewind.
"It's alright... I noticed Rowland isn't here either," he said softly.
The Witch Country: November 5th, 12,508 - 9:30 PM
Bernice had managed to successfully infiltrate the Palace Barracks as a wet nurse, having sent word to Fleur that she anticipated she would have Baby Dawn delivered to the One True Coven before the end of the year. She didn't want to rush this, as that would enhance her chances of getting caught. Fleur's training with Acantha was long and hard, but it was what she needed in order to defeat the Witch Queen. Things had finally fallen into line for Fleur to challenge her in late October, with the decision being made for her to fight the Witch Queen on the evening of November Fifth.
"My grandmother will meet you there," Acantha said, as they finished climbing up a steep and difficult mountain. There was a clearing within sight, but according to the law of the Witch Country, only Fleur and the Witch Queen could enter the clearing itself for the fight. "...Good luck," Acantha told her softly, her spirit having been broken by Fleur long ago. She didn't even know if she wanted Fleur to win or die at this point.
Acantha's grandmother, Agatha, looked like a stereotypical old witch - white hair, bright blue eyes, and a crone's nose. "You must be Fleur," she said, her voice nasally as she came forward. She was wearing a black cloak and a black witch's hat. "Choose your weapon," Agatha said, gesturing to her right. There was a table with just about every weapon imaginable laid out.
"The rules are simple. Kill me and the crown is yours."
Asgard: November 5th, 12,508 - 8:30 PM
Since Myth and Bruce's wedding, Cuyler and Arnora were trained extensively in their abilities. Arnora's mother, Skadi, taught her to control her abilities over ice and tracking, while Runa tutored her in Asgardian magic. Cuyler, of course, learned from Klara as to how to manipulate water to his betterment. After a few months of training, they were then allowed to go with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three to other realms, in order to help reestablish peace in waring regions. However, it was more than clear that turmoil was spreading across the Nine Realms.
Of course, Myth and Bruce had been living on Asgard quite happily. Klara had gotten them a rather nice home near the Palace, all for themselves. It wasn't too far from where Bruce's parents lived, as well as his parents' closest friends, which was an ideal situation for babysitting. Some people on Asgard treated Myth a bit cruelly given that she was Midgardian, but they had largely come to begrudgingly accept her, just as they had done with Lance.
The Palace Lounge...
"Cuyler, Arnora, we have a situation," Halley greeted, wearing traditional Asgardian garb for a sorceress as she came into the room. They were in what was more or less a rec room at the Palace. She had a sort of device in her hand and she pressed it, projecting an image of a blue cube. "This was stolen from the vault - the Tesseract, the jewel of Odin's treasure," Halley explained to the pair of them.
"Lady Sif and the Warriors Three are currently on Svartalfheim, investigating the possibility that the Dark Elves are responsible. My sisters went to Nidavellir, to see if the dwarves know anything. The All-Mother has asked that the three of us go to Midgard and see if the thief has brought the Tesseract there."
She then smirked slightly at them, ending the holographic projection from the device. "I need hardly tell you who we believe the thief to be - Loki."
Myth and Bruce's Home...
It had been a while since Antonije moved back to Midgard, wanting to be more or less independent. The twins had turned fifteen while on Asgard and had more or less adjusted to life there. They too had faced some discrimination, but given that they had superhuman speed and knew some Magyk, it helped them to more or less avoid anyone who was being rude to them. "Majko... When is Antonije going to come back?" Marya asked Myth, appearing next to her with a gust of wind all of the sudden. She looked a little sad. She only recently had started using Myde English with Myth as well.
Little Halden had been taking a nap, since it was rather late in the evening, and apparently decided that now was the perfect time to wake up screaming and crying. The smell in the air would instantly tip Myth off to the fact that he had woken up, went in his diaper, and was now crying since he was uncomfortable (but really, who could blame him?)
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