[IC] Wanderers

[Michellin]

Narda smirked when the scared little man told them that this Lyta wouldn’t leave the house. It also told her that there was definitely something suspicious about Lyta’s family. Any girl who wouldn’t follow their parents and would strike them must have some great reason, and the way this ball of grease and fear was acting, Narda had a good feeling he was a big chunk of that reason. “Come now, enough dallying, I am aging a decade as we speak,” the giantess growled, nodding to Ysaryn and half-dragging the sleepy Daryll with her through the door, leaving the fidgety mayor behind.

“May I talk to her?” Daryll asked. Oddly enough, the moment they were inside, the effects of the drowsiness had lessened. Was that what the mayor meant when he said they had some proof Lyta was behind this? “Where is her room?”

--

Kire felt the cold of the shadows as Ruli grabbed her and dragged them both out of it. Immediately she recognized their starting point. She was angry—angry that she had let this happen, that she couldn’t fight until she knew for certain what, or who, she was fighting—but her anger faltered when she saw the despair in Ruli. As hard as it was, she had to swallow her anger and think clearly. How would they get Envy back? She looked down at her sword, feeling impotent.

Behind them, she could sense the others that she had portalled out of the forest approach, all of them wary. She crouched beside Ruli, hand on his shoulder. “I sent Gavin back to the town to warn Myka and get help. We’ll get him back. Is there a way to trace him with magic?”
The villagers who approached had a different look on their face, like they were waking from a dream. A few saw her and recognized her face. “Your Grace?” They looked at the burned sleeve, her singed hair, the soot on her skin. They bowed, then knelt. “Forgive us. But we were simply trying to protect Her.”
“Her?”
One of them gestured. “The forest. Life giver. The one who sings. We didn’t know it was you, we were listening to her song.”
“Do you know where our companion is?”
They looked at one another. Then one stepped forward. “We don’t, but She might. And she wishes that none of this violence would happen. Will you go listen to her? There will be no fire, if you lay down your arms.” He raised his hands, palms-up, towards her. “Please.”

Kire pursed her lips. Then, with a huff, she sheathed her sword and gave it to Ruli, her eyes still on the villagers. “I will talk to her. I can’t leave without my friend. Take me to her.”
“All your arms, Your Grace.”
“What? But I—” She stopped, then leered at them. “No.”
The people looked at each other, then talked in hushed tones. “We will remain behind. Your friend can keep watch over us. If we move or go after you, your friend and your army can do what they will with us.”
Kire pursed her lips. “Myka and reinforcements should be here soon. If I don’t come back in half an hour…” She stopped there, knowing Ruli would make sure all hell broke loose upon them if they reneged on their promise and this goddess inflicted more harm upon them. She still hesitated as she readied to twist the Ring off her finger, but after one more deep breath she removed it, placing it in Ruli’s hands. “I’ll bring him back.”
She turned to the others. “Take me to her,” she repeated.

[Carantathraiel]

The moment Narda said they were free to go inside, the elf didn't hesitate. She strolled toward the door and pushed it open noisily, one hand on her weapon. They were met with a flustered looking woman with pale brown hair, which was disheveled and sloppily held back in a bun. Her face bore the remnants of a bruise, the yellow-tinged skin around her eyes nearly healed.

"Lyta?" Ysaryn asked, hoping not, but making no assumptions.
"You're here for here?" the woman demanded to know. "But the Madam sent word tha-"
"Lorraine!" the husband came inside after them, running his hands over his balding head to smooth the failing hairs back. "They're the Crown."
Lorraine frowned, looking over Ysaryn curiously before she noticed Narda and Daryll.
"The Crown?" Suddenly, her expression shifted from skepticism to fear. "Why? What has she done?"
"We are to take her." Ysaryn repeated, hand on her blade. "Take us to her."

Though she still looked reluctant, Lorraine turned and led them through the house, up a set of stairs that creaked. As they met the landing, Ysaryn tilted her head. "Ooh." She cooed, grinning wickedly. She could smell it. This Lyta girl's fear and anxiety. While she couldn't scent magic in the same way Kire could, she could smell that something was very different about her. Her seat reeked of it.
"Open." She demanded of Lorraine, pointing to the door.

"No!"
The shout came from within. Ysaryn turned her head to glance at Daryll and Narda, one eyebrow arched.
"I'm not going! You can't mak-Ah!" She'd shouted, and something thumped against the wall. Ysaryn heard the girl move, further from the door, could hear her erratic breathing. "Go away!"
"Something is wrong." Ysaryn said to Narda. "I can smell blood. Not much, but is present." Her brow was furrowed as she listened. Lyta was breathing unevenly, her voice seemed strained. "She is afraid."

---

Ruli barely registered any of it. Barely heard the villagers speaking. Was vaguely aware that Kire set her sword down in front of him. Was aware he'd reached up automatically to take her Ring from her when she removed it from her finger. He heard her promise to bring him back, but the words seemed empty.

He couldn't sense anything. Wondered if she could follow Envy's trail. Tobacco and flowers. That's what she'd said his essence smelled of. But if she couldn't?
Ruli's brain shut down, feeling out the harshest of possibilities. If she couldn't find him. If he was lost. He couldn't begin to hope that she would succeed.

[Michellin]

Narda glared at the mother, especially at the words she blurted out, confirming a suspicion she had been having ever since the greasy stepfather opened his mouth. Ysaryn had gone on ahead, up the stairs, which Narda was afraid wouldn’t hold her for long. But Ysaryn’s reaction was promising. She looked at Daryll who, a little more awake now, was looking eagerly ahead. She tensed when she heard Lyta object to opening the door, wondering what kind of cruelty she might have suffered under this roof for her to object to it. The elf confirmed it, and the mention of blood alarmed her.

“Lyta?” Narda called. “We are not from the Madam. We are representatives of the Empress Akire. We won’t be taking you to a brothel, and you won’t be harmed. You will be cared for, and if you need to find a new home, we can help with that.” She paused, then added. “Have you heard of The Green Wench? You’ll find other women there who have escaped lives from brothels and other bad men. They are good people, and if you want to learn to defend yourself, they would gladly help. Or you can join them, too, if you fancy riding ships and giving cruel men a piece of your mind.” She grinned.

“I saw you in a dream,” Daryll blurted out, and Narda frowned at Daryll.
“What are you doing? You might scare her.”
Daryll ignored her. “I saw you in a dream, and in it you needed help. You looked afraid.”

--

Kire tried to refrain from touching her Ringless finger as she walked into the woods. She knew leaving both her weapons behind was foolish, but she couldn’t let anything happen to Envy, nor could she just stand by without getting answers, any answers to the million questions that arose in her mind. Without the Ring she could still sense signatures, but everything else—her strength, her Portals—she had left behind. It was like that time in Lithilote, only then she didn’t have to deal with a wild goddess whose intentions were suspect. The forest was quiet. No songs, no rustling from mysterious strangers wielding flame. Gods, she wished she didn’t leave her Ring behind.

She stopped at the spot where they had last seen Envy. Though the walk hadn’t been too long, the tension made the brief journey feel like a whole hour of trudging through forest. If this was really Solaralai with all the anger and pride of a deity, perhaps there was only one form of communication with a mortal she was willing to hear.
“What do you want from me?” Kire asked, trying not to sound as demanding and as angry as she really meant. “What are you asking of me?”

[Carantathraiel]

Ysaryn tilted her head, listening to the girl within the room as Narda spoke. She hadn't moved from wherever she'd placed herself, but her breathing hadn't calmed, either. A sniffle. What could have been her hands running over her face, by the sudden but temporary muffling of her breathing.
It was Daryll's words that made her hold her breath. Ysaryn tilted her head the other way, making sure the girl was still in the room. But she exhaled noisily, sniffling again.

"It's not safe." Lyta said, far more quietly. "I-I'm not safe."
"We are to take you to safety." Ysaryn reminded her, glancing to Narda. "Narda and Daryll will-"
"No!" Lyta shouted again. "I'm not safe f-for you."
That gave Ysaryn a pause. Her feet planted, she turned to eye the girl's mother and step-father questioningly.
The latter of the two nodded, gesturing to his wife's face. "She hurt her mother."
"She didn't mean it!" Lorraine hissed at her spouse, her dark brown eyes staring up the stairs at the trio that spoke to her only child. "You can't take her over an accident!"

Ignoring the mother's arguing, Ysaryn turned back toward the door. "Lyta?" She called, and she heard a foot scrape against the wooden floor. Like the girl was drawing herself into a corner. "We fight many things. Elf with teeth of shark. Mutant man-dog. Dragon." She glanced to Daryll and shrugged, as if to say 'she won't know that's a lie', before she stepped toward the door, her hand on the knob. "We are not afraid of you. You will not harm us. Okay? We are to come in? Just to make sure you are safe? I know you bleed."
Silence met her. Lyta didn't move, didn't answer. Still breathed, at least. So Ysaryn turned the knob, finding it unlocked, and pushed the door open.

The room was a mess. The window panes were cracked, broken glass, feather, and ceramic covered the floor. The bed was whole, but the mattress askew and partly on the floor, the blankets and pillows in tatters, mingling with what could have been an entire closet on the floor.
And Lyta.
She was tucked into the wall, her small frame tucked as far into the corner as she could get. Her hair was ragged and knotted, her clothing -a plain maroon tunic and tan trousers- were stained in sweat. Her face, half hidden behind her hands, betrayed that she hadn't slept in days, and that she'd been crying. So pale, her large brown eyes wide as she stared at them.
The source of the blood was her foot; having stepped on one of the many broken shards that covered her room, Lyta's left a trail around the room. Every place she'd set her left foot was marked in a smudge of drying blood.

Ysaryn put on what she hoped wouldn't be a terrifying smile for an already terrifying girl who had never seen an elf before. "I am Ysaryn." She greeted, stepping inside.
But the moment she moved, Lyta flinched. "Don't come any-"
Many of the shards on the floor shifted, shooting outward with Lyta as the center point. She screamed as Ysaryn raised her arms to shield her face, twisting to put her back to the onslaught of assailants. It was quick, the pieces falling quickly and lifelessly to the floor once they'd bounced off the wall or the three visitors. Lyta buried her face, sobbing. "I'm sorry..." She choked.
"Whoa." Ysaryn said, unfolding her arms and facing the girl again.

---

Nothing answered.

No voice.

No music.

No rolling, desert dunes.

Nothing.

Until, in Kire's mind, a world gate appeared.
Not quite like the one created by the Gemini and the Empress, but more precise. Ethereal, almost. It opened across the sky, visible through the trees, its mouth pointing downward toward the earth.
From it, poured a dragon.

It was as if it was made of glass, or being looked upon through a reflection. Its image wavered and warped as it dove from the gate and into the sky, its long body twisting and arching as it took in the new surroundings. Its wings sent an inaudible boom through the air as it worked to stay airborne. Its long, reptilian body glittered brilliantly, up until the last scales on its tail. The dragon turned coarse, soaring away and into the empty sky before it was gone from sight. The gate began to close, slowly and gently, without a sound. But before it could close completely, a flare of light fell.

From where the gate, now closed and vanished, the ball of holy, dazzling light fell at a speed dangerously faster than the dragon had soared. Straight towards the earth, until it shifted its shape. Like the dragon had used his wings to fly, so, too, did the flare produce its own. Fiery wings spread, slowing its descent, though it still struggled, like a juvenile bird falling from the nest before it was ready.
As it drew close to the earth, the ground rose to meet it, cradling the falling star to soften its landing, turning itself to a soft, shifting sand that grew until the surrounding area became nothing but an endless sea of golden sands. As the ground settled, the star resting, a wind blew outward, meeting Kire with a breath of hot air that smelled of fire and scorched earth, before the vision left her.

[Michellin]

I’m not safe for you. Narda raised her brows and looked at Daryll. ‘Interesting’, the scholar mouthed. Was her situation similar to that of the camp of potential fire-wielders of the forest-town? Though given the mother’s bruise, perhaps it was something else. The mayor’s description of ‘queer’ now made more sense, though whether or not his accompanying accusation about her being the source of the sleepiness was another matter. They kept silent, watchful as Ysaryn attempted to coax the woman out of her seclusion, with Narda grunting in agreement at the elf’s assertion that nothing about the woman would frighten them. They weren’t being attacked yet, so Narda assumed that whatever the girl was capable of, she only unleashed it as a means to defend herself. If she knew how to control it. Judging by her behavior, she did not.

The Amrians looked around at Lyta’s room, wondering if the mess was her doing. While Narda looked with pity at Lyta, concerned at all the blood from her injured foot and from the state of her, Daryll only gaped in wonder for a few moments. It’s her. Like seeing something step straight out of a dream. “It’s you…” he murmured, stepping forward even as Ysaryn did—and almost got himself turned into a pincushion for the glass shards. Narda had grabbed him by the collar, yanking him back as she shielded herself with her other arm.
“You both alright?” Narda asked, brushing the shards from her cloak. She turned to Lyta. “You have nothing to apologize for. But if you keep yourself cooped up in here, you won’t learn to control—whatever that is. You’ll keep apologizing your whole life. Which,” she added, gesturing around her, “doesn’t seem to be much, as it stands.”
“That is magic. It can be a wonderful thing,” Daryll said. “I—think we were sent here to get you for a reason. I don’t put stock in fate or gods or the like, but know that we’ll be your best chance. This isn’t a punishment, we promise.”

Narda extended a hand. “Come with us. Like Ysaryn said, we’ve faced many great threats.” She grinned. “And if you come, you’ll meet the Empress herself.”
Daryll still stared at her, fascinated. He wanted to ask her if she had seen him before, if there was some sign of familiarity. But she was clearly not yet in the proper state to be interrogated about visions and prophecies. So instead he took a couple of careful steps forward, hands raised. He fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and extended it to her.

--

Kire watched as the strange scene unfolded before her eyes. The dragon, the light, and the gate. Always these three. It seemed to her then that she was caught between two gods, and as she saw the earth that cradled the falling star turn to sand, fear settled in her heart. She coughed at the hot, scorched air that filled her lungs, sinking onto her knees until the vision faded completely. She dug her fingers into the soil, breathed in the smells of the forest. And no sign of Envy. This….what was she to do with this? At least even in exile, her mission was clear: defeat Ikegai, regain her honor by taking the throne back. In all her other struggles, the goal was solid and sharp in her mind, and the sword of her Will knew what to do, where to cut. But this? “I don’t know what to do,” she said in a whisper, and hearing herself say it out loud deepened that fear in her heart.

Standing up again, Kire looked around her, hoping for some other sign, some other voice, anything that would help point the way forward. But she knew there wouldn’t be any. She rubbed her Ringless finger again, the absence of the jewel reflecting the uncertainty that weighed heavily on her mind. Now she had to walk out of the forest, to Ruli who had lost his foster father, and to her own people, now seemingly beholden to some unknown, omnipotent presence. She may have the crown again, but it felt more useless than ever. But she was Empress. And, whether she felt it in her heart or not, Kire had to go back out there and show them she knew what she was doing.

“I don’t know what you want,” she said, looking ahead of her. “Help me understand. You speak to my people now. And I am loyal to my people. I want what is best for them, and—and if this is what you want as well, then help me see it. But I need my friend back.” She frowned, the next word sitting heavy on her tongue. “Please. What do I need to do in exchange? Show me.” She let the silence hang in the air for a few moments before she sighed and turned around, feeling very much like a dog retreating with its tail between its legs. As stubborn as Kire was, she knew there was no other recourse, for now.

When she stepped outside, she still wore a frown on her face. She looked at Ruli, debating between words of comfort or being Empress now. She glanced at the villagers, then back at him. Just say it. Comfort could wait; what he needs, what they all need, were actions. “I can’t trace him,” she said. “But I’m not giving up.” She turned to the villagers. “She speaks to you, doesn’t she? Is she—” she gestured vaguely behind her, at the forest, “—is she asking you to worship her? Is she your patron god now?”

The villagers looked at each other. The man who had spoken up earlier said, “We—we’re not sure. But. We wish to understand, Your Grace. And for that, we wish only for the freedom to commune with her, to see why she bestowed these gifts to us. Right now, she wishes that the forest be treated as holy ground.”

Kire looked at the forest again, and then at Ruli. “If I do that, will we have our friend back?” she asked them.
“I truly don’t know, Your Grace. But if this is what you have thought of in your heart, then maybe She is speaking to you, too. I—we know it is a lot to ask, especially for lowly people like myself, to an Empress like you.” He placed his hand over his heart. “We feel she will keep your friend safe. We can’t explain it but—we have faith.”
“Faith.” Kire tried not to scoff aloud at the word. She took a deep breath. “Give me time to think about it. I need to confer with my—I need to think it over. But you would have to come with me, and stay in the camp with your other fellow villagers until you have my answer. So much as a spark is lit in attack, however, and you will be cut down, no questions,” she said. The villagers nodded.

Gavin had returned with Myka and reinforcements, and after Kire explained the conditions, the villagers were escorted back to the camp. Kire remained at the edge of forest. Once she was alone with Ruli, she turned to him, swallowing the urge to reach out and hold him. “I’m sorry.”

[Carantathraiel]

Ysaryn made no further attempt to get closer to the girl, putting her hands on her hips to study for now. Narda's words of encouragement made Lyta raise her head, her eyes red with tears she was too exhausted to produce. Her eyes swept around the room when Narda gestured and mentioned her pathetic life, her expression cracking before she hid her face again, cradling her head in her arms.
"No!" Lyta shot her head back up when Narda hinted that she'd meet the Empress. "I can't! I'll ..." She looked around at the pieces of her room that were scattered across the floor. If she hurt the Empress, she'd be executed.

Her gaze, instead, fell on Daryll as he approached, kerchief in hand. Lyta clearly wasn't sure about the gesture, nor his words about this not being a punishment. They wanted to take her away. Even if they promised a home, to help.
Ysaryn, reading the hesitation, unfolded her arms. "I am magic." She offered, waiting until Lyta's eyes shifted to her. "I can move from place to place in instant. May I show you?"
When Lyta nodded, Ysaryn smiled and vanished, drawing a gasp from Lyta, the girl tucking herself back into the corner. "How-" She began to ask, when Ysaryn reappeared, holding a brilliant flower in her hand. Lyta let out a squeak, and the shards on the flor rolled lazily, but not violently. Ysaryn grinned and stepped beside Daryll, kneeling to show the flower to Lyta.
A blue peony. The sweet aroma challenging the reek of fear and sweat in the room. "World is beautiful. But you have to leave room to see it, yes?"

Lyta's expression softened, her eyebrows twisting upward in concern. Her gaze went back to Daryll. His words that they were here to help, that he didn't believe in fate but that somehow they were meant to be here to find her. And the Narda, who said she needed to learn to control whatever was wrong with her.
And the elf, who showed her controlled magic.

"If I want to come home?" She wondered, looking between them.
Ysaryn arched an eyebrow, wondering why anyone would want to return to this. Leaving the flower on the floor before Lyta, Ysaryn stood and wandered back toward Narda. The indifference in her posture made Lyta tense again. "No!" She said shifting enough to unfold herself from the corner. "I'll ... I'll go. But... please." She looked to Daryll, kneeling in front of the flower, but yet to reach for the kerchief he offered. "Promise me you're not going to lock me up."

---

She came back empty handed. Ruli squeezed his fist, feeling the metal of her Ring bite into his skin. Empty handed. Envy was gone. Lost. Taken by the vindictive goddess who had always hated them. "I shouldn't have let him come." Ruli muttered to the ground beneath his knees. Should have known it would be a mistake. To bring Envy here, where he couldn't see, couldn't defend himself.
What could Envy have done? If she had decided to take Ruli instead, what would he have done? Nothing. Nothing could be done.
"I'm not leaving." Ruli admitted, the ache in his chest growing, weighting him down. He extended his arm, palm turned upward to offer her her Ring. "Take it, and go."

[Michellin]

Narda watched as Ysaryn demonstrated her magic in front of Lyta, hoping that this would get the girl to see this was the best option for her. This was always the difficult part of rescuing people, as she had seen during her time with the Wench. For those who had endured such difficult lives and circumstances, the promise of safety would sound too good to be true, the shackles in their mind harder to surmount than the physical ones. True enough, Lyta asked about going home, and Narda sighed. Myka would be good at this. Or Kire, to some extent.

Daryll, too, furrowed his brow, not understanding how Lyta would rather she stayed here. Then he flinched when she cried out, the hand with the cloth wavering when she moved. “We wouldn’t. I promise,” he said, something in his heart breaking at the sight of her. Had it been him who woke up one day with a strange ability to move things around him, he would have been both fearful and ecstatic. But Lyta, she had never had anyone else try to help her, from the looks of it. Everyone around her, save her mother, seemed to just want to be rid of her. “You can go anywhere, and nobody will stop you—”
“Daryll,” Narda warned, not particularly keen on letting Daryll make rash promises.
“—so long as you also promise you would let us help you,” Daryll finished. He set the handkerchief down in front of Lyta, then withdrew one step behind, watching her. “There are strange things happening in other places in Amria right now, and we are doing our best to get to the bottom of it. But you are not being taken prisoner. We are going to figure things out together.”

--

Kire took the Ring, trying not to look too relieved at having it back on her finger. She looked sidelong at him, the despair so apparent in his face, in his voice that it made her own heart ache, too. She wished she could swear to him she would get Envy back, but it would be an empty promise until she could figure out her next step. She wasn’t sure if leaving Ruli here was the wisest thing to do, yet as much as she wanted to stay here by his side, her own people were waiting back at the camp. “I’m not abandoning him either. If she really wanted to harm him or kill him, she’d have already done it. Making him disappear like this, though—this is something else. The goddess wants something. I may not read minds, but this I’m sure about.” The vision of the golden sands and the falling star, the dragon and the goddess, flickered in her mind. “I need to go back, but I’ll come back here and check again.”

[Carantathraiel]

Lyta's eyes followed the kerchief as Daryll set it down and retreated, listening to his offer. She could go anywhere. Anywhere she wanted. Even if the idea terrified her, the choice was there. She had no idea how to live on her own. And really no idea how to live while being some freak who sent things flying.
But she wasn't the only one. Were they gathering all the others? Collecting them? Her brown eyes went from face to face, her brows knit together in horrified concern. Their faces seemed genuine. But that simply meant they were far better at hiding lies than her mother and step-father.

"Lyta!" Speaking of whom, her mother called from downstairs. The pink-haired woman turned her head, her eyes pointing in that direction. "You're staying! You're not going with them!"
"Why, because you not get money for her?" The pink-haired woman shouted back.
"How dare you!" Her step-father snarled.
"Women not for sale!" Her teeth were bared, revealing sharp canines, like cat.
What is she? Lyta wondered.
As her parents muttered and grumbled, the pink-haired one slipped out of the room, standing at the landing to argue with them. Lyta's gaze went to the tall woman, then the man, who had yet to stop staring at her.

"Okay." Lyta said quietly. Somehow hearing her answer, the sharp-toothed one reappeared at the door, glancing at her. "O-Okay, I'll go with you. If you promise," She repeated with emphasis towards Daryll. No lies.
"Do you have to pack?" The strange woman asked, and Lyta looked around her broken room.
I did all this. Lyta remembered. Not really having forgotten, simply in fear. If they put her in front of the Empress, what would happen?
They're going to help you. Lyta inhaled, sighing. They're going to help you control it.

Slowly, she stood up, leaving the kerchief on the ground, Sideways, she moved towards the bed, her limp slight as she dug into the mattress, a tear long ago made so she could hide things rom her parents. What she withdrew was a ragged ... even Ysaryn wasn't sure. It looked similar to a woolen knit sock, though on each end were two thin brown hangings, and at the top something bulbous. She tucked it against herself protectively, then nodded, still looking incredibly pale at the idea.

[Michellin]

Narda looked at the thing Lyta brought with her, trying to guess what it was. It looked like one of those toys peasant children cobbled together. Whatever it was, it must have some sentimental value to the young woman, and so, too, did this house, no matter how squalid it looked or how ill-treated she was under its roof. Ysaryn lashed out at the mother, saying what Narda had been wanting to shout at them from the moment the mother and stepfather opened their mouths.

Daryll ignored the fact that she didn’t take his handkerchief, picking it up and stuffing it back into his pocket. “Don’t worry about the Empress. She’s tougher than she looks—er, well, actually, she might be exactly as tough as she looks. You’ll see what I mean,” the scholar said, beaming at her in the hope that this helped put her at ease. “I do have to ask, though, and I know you probably don’t have all the answers, but did this ability to move objects around come at the same time as the sleepiness around the town? I noticed we don’t feel it as much around this house, but Narda and I feel it strongly outside.”

“Speaking of which, look,” Narda said, gesturing out the broken windows. From that vantage point, everyone who was outside seemed to have fallen asleep on their feet. Some were slumped against walls, posts, crates, others looked to have crumpled mid-step. “What in the gods…?”
“Hmm.” Daryll looked out the window, then at Lyta, head cocked in curiosity. “I don’t know. Even if Lyta doesn’t know how to control things, putting people to sleep and sending objects flying about seem to be two very different things.”

Narda strode out the room, elbowed her way past the husband and wife, who were still grumbling at Ysaryn. “Oy, mayor!” she called out, but the man had already left them, along with his guards. The giantess growled. Now that she was closer to the door and the farthest from the room, she could feel that sleepiness tugging at her. “Hrmm.” She turned back to Ysaryn. “We better go. But something is not right here. If the town goes back to normal after we have removed Lyta, then that would answer our questions about this lethargy. But if the sleepiness persists, Lyta is not the problem.”

[Carantathraiel]

As he spoke about the empress, Lyta looked back to Daryll, suddenly wondering if he could read her mind. Or, as her mother often said, her face was that see-through. Her arm tightened around the thing she held, and when it shifted, Ysaryn caught a glance of an embroidered eye, and realized what it was. A stuffed animal. Possibly elk, with the small antlers it bore, its body little more than a scrap of blanket. It looked old, but well cared for. In a room where her uncontrolled magic had destroyed everything, somehow, this trinket was spared.

"Hm?" Ysaryn turned her head when Narda looked out the window. She stiffened when she saw that everyone had lay down, relieved when she sawa they still breathed.
When Daryll glanced at her thoughtfully, Lyta retreated, her brow knitting. "I'm sorry!" She whined, and a few ceramic pieces on the floor rolled over.
Hearing the sound, Ysaryn turned her head, looking the girl over again. "Lyta, deep air in lungs." She instructed, inhaling to coach. Lyta took a deep breath, hugging her doll. "We do not think you do on purpose. If at all." She passed a smile as Narda left, and the elf followed just to stand in the doorway, wall aware of the awed looked Daryll kept giving the girl. She would feel uneasy, after hearing your parents tried to sell her to some horrible house of pleasure, so she decided not to leave Lyta alone with the male.

"I take all?" Ysaryn asked, tilting her head. "You both seem awake inside here. Can it not reach? Or is Lyta protecting you?" She glanced at the perplexed Lyta again, and winked. Still, taking only Lyta and Daryll to whereever they wanted, then to leave the girl alone with Daryll, who still ogled, didn't sound wise. "Where we go? To Kirai? Tower?" She wondered, approaching Lyta again.
"My magic?" She said, standing before the girl. "I can take people with. You. Like fast travel." The elf grinned, noting the way Lyta's eyes flit to her teeth. "Is cold, an a little ... uh, what is word. Head spin?" Ysaryn drew her fingers in small circles. "But is safe. Just breathe, yes?"

After a bit of deliberation with Narda and Daryll, Ysaryn offered Lyta her hand, insisting that Daryll hold Narda's and not Lyta's. After a bit more coaching to the visibly uneasy girl, they were gone.
Seconds later, they reappeared in Elva's entryway.
Lyta wobbled, and Ysaryn released Narda to help her, muttering to her in elvish to calm her down while the other two went to fetch the mistress of the manor.
"We are here to see Elva." Ysaryn explained. "Elva is healer. Medicine. She will look at you foot, and make sure you are not hurt. And feed you, too. Food here is very good."

Lyta only nodded, pale and speechless, her eyes wide as she took in the new surroundings. (Completely new. Had they not been standing in her bedroom?) She held the thing in her arms closely, finding some level of comfort in it. Being the unsentimental type, Ysaryn didn't understand, but so long as it kept Lyta from flinging dishware, she could do as she pleased for now.

[Michellin]

Daryll was too oblivious to the insinuations Ysaryn had about his fascination with Lyta, though Narda similarly caught on to the elf, holding onto Daryll before he could take Lyta’s hand before Shadow-walking. The cold of the shadows was replaced by the warmth of the hearth in the Great Hall when they emerged. Daryll was about to explain to Lyta where they were when Narda held him firmly by the shoulder and steered him away so they could look for Elva.

“Now look here, Dar,” the giantess said sternly, “did you see how utterly frightened that poor woman was?”
“I have eyes, Nard,” Daryll said with a frown. “Wasn’t that why we took her away and have Elva look her over?”
Narda turned him so he faced her properly. “You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you look at someone like they’re a guinea pig, or one of your little experiments in the alchemy chamber. You sometimes wear that face around Kire’s friends. I know you get carried away, and it’s a good thing, that brain of yours. But Lyta does not need that. People are not your alchemy rats. Did you understand that she was almost sold into slavery or some brothel back there?”
“I—” Daryll opened and closed his mouth, but stayed silent. Narda grunted, then gave him two strong pats on the back.
“Which reminds me, I will have to straighten out that mayor and the whole town,” Narda grumbled, as she let Daryll go. “Be more mindful of others, Dar. I know you get too in your head a lot of the time, but that will get you in trouble if you don’t pay attention.”
“Duly noted,” Daryll said, feeling foolish now.

“What’s all this noise then?” Elva called out. “Oh! Well. It was about time I had a visit!” The healer put her hands on her hips. “Out with it. What do you need?”
Narda and Daryll explained the situation as best they could, and Elva frowned in thought. “There have been…reports. From all over. Something peculiar is happening around Amria, and this just proves it. Come on, show me this Lyta.”

Back at the Great Hall, Elva’s attendants had approached upon her instructions to welcome the newcomers. “Hello, Lyta,” Elva said, smiling, once she approached. “Come on, let’s get you settled. You can either have a bed in the infirmary or your own room. There’s plenty of beds in the infirmary for you, and after an examination and some rest, we can give you a proper room. Does that sound good. Come, come!” She spoke in Taakalon to the attendants to prepare food and warm drink for Lyta while others gently guided her to the infirmary.
“Kire will want to know about this,” Narda said to Ysaryn.

As the attendants fussed over Lyta, looking over her foot and examining her for any other injuries, Elva poured her a mug of hot chocolate. “If you’re feeling up to it, maybe you can tell us a little more about yourself. Narda and Daryll here tell me you are from a noble family. The Glenn house? Though I admittedly know frightfully little about that lineage.”

[Carantathraiel]

Ysaryn kept smiling at Lyta, who seemed to calm at the idea of food. The elf wondered if she had refused food, or had been refused it. A weaker daughter is a more compliant one. Its what they did in the underground system in which she'd been captive. So many of them had been weak.

"What is?" She asked, pointing to the thing Lyta clung to. Her brown eyes went down, her arms shifting so she could peer at its little face.
"M-my dad," Lyta whispered. "he m-made it for me."
Ysaryn only nodded. "Is important, then." She hoped. Again, sentimental items were lost on her.
"What ... uh." Lyta began, looking nervously about the hall.
"Yes?"
"N-nothing." Lyta withdrew again. Ysaryn grinned and straightened, just as the attendants arrived.

"She's skittish." Ysaryn mentioned in elvish, before recalling there was no one here to understand her. She grunted, even as Elva approached and introduced herself.
Sure enough, the idea of having to pick between the infirmary and her own room seemed to pin Lyta into the corner, so the dark haired girl looked infinitely relieved when Elva made the choice for her. "Okay." She said quietly, though she tensed again when the attendants moved forward to help her.
"Aye. I will go find Kir-"
Lyta's sudden strong grip on her wrist stopped Ysaryn. The look of desperation in the girls eyes seemed achingly familiar. "-later." She finished a second later, smiling at Lyta. Her grip lessened, but the elf followed anyway. "And I return to village with you?" She asked, glancing backwards at Narda. "If sleep is still there, I cannot to leave you alone."

In the infirmary, Ysaryn sat beside Lyta's bed, close enough to give the girl some semblance of comfort as the healers circled her. They reached for her foot, and Lyta withdrew it, wide-eyed. In fact everytime the reached for her she shrank away, looking uneasy. "Lyta." Ysaryn cooed. "They are to help. Is safe."
"What if I hurt them?" Lyta asked, tucking her legs to her chest, her feet out of view.
"Only breathe." Ysaryn said. "They treat em-purris." That word sounded too foreign on her tongue. "They have been flung. Swore at. Treated far worse than cut on foot. Yes?" Ysaryn turned her gaze to the nearest apprentice, who nodded with a kind smile. "Only breathe." Ysaryn repeated, looking back to Lyta.

Hesitantly, she extended her leg, offering her left foot, though her hands were drawn uneasily around her face. Even the hot chocolate offered by Elva didn't seem to relax her. Nor did the idea of speaking about herself. As Elva asked about her family, Lyta looked her way, seemingly at a loss for how to answer. "Uh." She stammered, thinking. "My da-er, father. It died with him." Lyta answered, glancing down at the strange stuff-less animal pinned between her stomach and knees. "I don't know ... about relati-ow!" Lyta gasped, drawing her foot back against herself. The instruments on the table shook, a tense silence fell over the group.
"Lyta?" Ysaryn said calmly, watching the girl.
With her hands over her ears, Lyta breathed as instructed, her eyes closed. "I'm sorry." She insisted, curling herself into a ball.
"You are safe. Remind you self of that." Ysaryn said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the bed. "You know I was almost sold. Like you?"
Lyta turned her head to glance at her. "You were?" The instruments ceased their rattling.
"Yes." Ysaryn nodded. "I was captured. In a cell. Starved. Hurt by men." Lyta didn't notice that Ysaryn had gripped her ankle and extended her leg toward the healer again. "Days. Hurt. They cut into my belly, tried to place a curse in my skin. Only I am saved."
"By who?"
"By friend." Ysaryn grinned. "He loosened ties and let me escape. I ran until I find friends. Taken home and now, I will never be taken again." She reached out, settling her hand over Lyta's, her own dark skin eclipsing Lyta's. "You are saved. We are friends. You trust us, yes?"
Lyta's eyes scanned the faces in the room, then on her foot, which was still being tended to, and nearly finished. "Yes." She breathed, inhaling. "But what if i-"
"You will not hurt us." Ysaryn said. "You hurt when scared, this is true? Then tell them when you are scared. Nothing will happen. Not until you are not scared."

Lyta was, at least, quiet for the duration of her check up, the healers explaining each task before and during the action so Lyta was prepared. Ysaryn, confident she was collected, left the bedside to stand near Narda and Daryll, eyeing the male. At least he wasn't ogling her anymore. "I can leave to see Kirai, and then swing by town. At least inform you if sleep still present. Where am I taking you?" She asked to Daryll suddenly, firmly hinting that she would not be leaving him here.

[Michellin]

Elva had a smile on her face, though her gaze watched Lyta carefully. Now and then she and Nada would speak in hushed Taakalon, while Daryll, after the talking-to Narda had given him, decided to stay some paces away, trying to curb his excitement. It was clear the poor girl had gone through a lot, and that she would be fearful of new situations. The healers, thankfully, had seen similar cases, and Elva especially was no stranger to difficult patients. She did listen curiously as Ysaryn got Lyta to be more cooperative by telling her own story. Narda, too, listened, though she had heard bits and pieces of it already from Kire before. Seeing as the elf was the most calming presence for Lyta, Elva let her soothe the woman without interruption from her, until she let the healers touch her foot.

“We’ll give you warmer clothes to wear,” Elva said when Ysaryn stepped away to join the other two. “And when you feel a bit rested, you can have some soup, settle your stomach. I trust you have not been this far North of Amria? Then you’ll have a little tour.”

“Hm? Oh,” Daryll snapped his attention back to Ysaryn. “I am curious about the town as well, but I would like to see what’s happened back at the camp with Kire first. I feel I may need to consult with the other sorcerers about the phenomenon with Lyta and the town.”
“As much as I would like to stay and reassure the young woman, I will be next to useless when it comes to her magic,” Narda said, glancing at Lyta briefly before turning back to them. “And I can’t rest easy until we’ve ascertained the source of that lethargy back in town.” Narda paused, thinking something over. “The others might be helpful with the situation, but being around the Empress of Amria and being studied by her sorcerers might overwhelm the poor thing. I wonder if, perhaps, the company of the Wenches might suit her. They might be rough and tough, but they know how to ease a battered woman out of her shell, having been in similar situations before. What do you think?” she said, asking Ysaryn.

[Carantathraiel]

She calmed, watching the healers like a hawk as they set the small gash in her foot. After cleaning it in what was, thankfully, a painless way, they applied salve and wrapped her heel, leaving her alone. As Elva approached and explained more, Lyta hoped her stomach didn't audibly growl at the promise of soup. She swallowed, glancing around the room. "We're in the North?" She asked, twisting to look at the nearest window. She'd never seen snow before. Barely, through the thick panes, she could she the white world beyond.
North! Lyta inhaled, looking around the room again. Sure enough, her clothes were thinner than most of the items worn by the residents. Aside from Ysaryn and the other two.

Lyta's dark gaze fell over them for a time, from the male who kept looking at her oddly, to the unusually tall woman, and the ... other one. "What is she?" She asked quietly.

Hearing the question from Lyta, Ysaryn grinned without turning around. "We let her decide. I think she has had too few deciding, lately." She said to Narda. "I will take both to Kirai, then, and then we'll continue on to Lyta village. Perhaps we take along Envy or Gavin to assist." She offered, figuring Ruli would not leave his bedmate's side.

After a pause, hearing Elva answer Lyta's question and Lyta's stunned response ( "A real elf? Like in the stories?" ) "Wench will give confidence, yes. I hope she chooses this." Ysaryn turned back toward Lyta, amused at the look Lyta now gave her. "We are to leave you here. You rest, yes? And when you're ready, you decide where to go?"
Lyta nodded, slouched against the raised back of the bed like she was having trouble sitting upright; finally comfortable and relaxing. "You'll come back?"
"As often as able." Ysaryn promised. "You in good hands. That one." She pointed to Elva. "She will fight off anything scary with a look. Wyvern eye." Ysaryn gestured to her eye and winked.
Lyta's head shot around to Elva. Wyvern? As in ...?

Ysaryn turned back around, gesturing to the other two to take her hands. "Come. We will go. Back to chieftess."
And a moment later, they were standing in the camp. The shift in temperature bothered Ysaryn more than anything else. Loosing Daryll and Narda's hands, she turned in place, looking around for the others.

[Michellin]

Elva looked at Lyta, amused at her reaction at everything, from finding out that Ysaryn was an elf, to the wide-eyed shock on her face when Ysaryn pointed out that she was a Wyvern. It was always entertaining to see how other people reacted to an encounter with the kind of otherworldliness that had now become everyday business for Kire and her family. She waited for the three to disappear, then turned her attention back to Lyta. “A Wyvern, yes, as the lady pointed out,” she said, pulling up a chair to sit by the bed, though not too close, not wanting Lyta to feel crowded. “But if it helps you ease your mind, I am simply your healer right now. Just as that awkward cousin of mine has Wyvern blood, but if he makes you uncomfortable, you are free to smack him upside the head. If you would rather not, I can do that for you.” She grinned cheekily.

Soup was brought in, and Elva had the attendant set it down on the bedside table. “Ysaryn said this magic of yours responds to your fear. ” Elva began, though she seemed to be thinking out loud more than to Lyta. After a thoughtful silence, Elva looked at Lyta again. “Healing is a difficult, tricky business, especially when you need to heal both your body and mind. You have been through much. But I will ask you, as I always ask the patients who come through that door and stay under my roof, that you will do your best to want to heal.” Elva tapped her temple as she spoke. “Mind and body are one in that regard. It is harder to believe that you will get better, and if you don’t put faith in that, it will be doubly difficult for us to help you.” Elva shrugged a shoulder, then gestured at the soup. “Now, do help yourself. They make good soup here in the North, will warm you right up. First step to feeling at ease is a happy belly, after all,” she added with a chuckle.

--

When Kire had returned to camp, Gavin was shaking and pale, slumped against the walls of the town, while Myka did her best to rope the camp into order. “Was it me?” he asked the moment he saw her. “Was it because I let go?”
“Gavin, no,” Kire frowned, concern in her expression as she crouched down beside him. “Look. The way I see it, the goddess was going to find a way to take him. But at least it looks like her power is confined to the forest and to the people in camp. With the wards you had worked on, so far things are contained.”

Gavin pursed his lips, bowing his head. “I should be back there. I should be helping Ruli look for him.”
“I won’t lose you, too,” Kire said firmly. “I need you here. Is there a way to maybe find him? Tracking spell? Anything like that?”
Gavin rubbed his face. “Maybe. Yeah. There might be. But I need Ruli’s help. Daryll, too.” She could tell his confidence was shaken to the core by this; even if he would have been certain with his answer, now he would second-guess his every move.
“It’s not your fault,” she pressed, a hand on his shoulder before perking up, sensing Ysaryn’s return nearby.

“There seems to be more people in camp,” Narda said, jerking her thumb at the tents.
Kire nodded. “We have an urgent situation in our hands. Envy is missing.”
Narda’s eyes widened. Kire gave an account of what happened: Gavin seeing a vision, Envy disappearing, the remaining townsfolk that had appeared, wielding fire in a trance. The giantess growled. “Well? Are you going to let them worship this mad god?”
Kire pinched the bridge of her nose. “I told them I need time to give them an answer. Till then, they are confined to the warded camp.”
“And Ruli?”
“Ruli refuses to leave.” Kire sighed. “I’m going back there later to check on him and to make another search.”
“Sounds to me like this goddess is holding him ransom,” Narda said. “If she wanted him dead, she would have made an example of him.”
“Exactly my thinking,” Kire said. “But there’s so much about this goddess I don’t know yet. I don’t know why Envy. If this is Solaralai, I’d have thought she hated elves.” Kire rubbed her nape, glancing at Gavin, who had flinched at her last statement, the young mage still wracked by guilt. She looked at Daryll. “What happened to your search?”

“We found her,” he replied. He looked torn now. Kire had noticed the excitement on his face when they appeared and had expected good news from him, but after Kire’s news, it seemed the scholar didn’t know what to feel now. “Kire, she has magic. She can move objects with her mind, but it depends on her emotional state. And something else, too. Something, or someone, is blanketing her whole town with sleep. We are—were planning to go back there to investigate it again. But…” He glanced at the camp.
“Gods. More,” Kire muttered.

[Carantathraiel]

A Wyvern. Lyta stared, then looked away, trying not to be rude. Even when Elva came to sit closer to her, Lyta only glanced her way for a few seconds. And then she revealed that the man who had given Lyta funny looks was also a Wyvern. And he'd offered his kerchief! Lyta realized, feeling guilty for having ignored him. The idea of smacking him upside the head was far from Lyta's mind, and then even further when the soup was brought in and the aroma of it embraced Lyta.

This time, her stomach really did growl audibly. Embarrassed, Lyta tucked her arms around her middle, eyeing the food longingly. Elva continued to speak, and Lyta didn't dare reach for the tantalizing meal, listening to the kind words she spoke. However, the moment she invited Lyta to help herself, Lyta went to eat, slowly putting a spoonful to her mouth, than another, until, once she realized it wouldn't be taken away, she hurried through it, clearing half the bowl before she looked up.
"Are you going to make it go away?" Lyta asked, her stomach so warm and full of the thick soup that she felt the heaviness of it creep through her limbs. "The magic?" Not her magic. She'd never asked for this.

"I hurt my mom." Lyta admitted, explaining why she didn't want it. Not that she felt that was necessary. Who wouldn't want this curse gone? Her eyes welled with fresh tears, now that she had the energy to produce them. "I didn't mean to. And I don't want to hurt anyone else!"

Elva's kind reassurances, even if a little on the firm and wise side, soothed Lyta only a little. Lyta tried to stifle her tears, but as she drank the cocoa at last, and ate a little more of the soup, her exhaustion hammered her down to a blathering mess until she curled on her side and fell fast asleep, her raggedy stuffie cradled against her chest.

---

Ysaryn's eyes roamed the camp, noticing the new numbers, as well as the strange, vacant look in their faces. As Kire approached, Ysaryn froze, hearing that Envy had gone missing. Her fuchsia eyes zeroed in on Kire, studying her troubled expression as the empress explained. That Envy had just vanished inside the forest. No trace. Ysaryn raised her head and sniffed, trying to catch any scent of the Kartaian in the air.
Nothing.
She ignored the portion about Gavin's vision, shifting again when she heard that Ruli was insisting on remaining in the forest, to wait. Or mourn.

"Ransom?" Ysaryn repeated the word, looking between Kire and Narda. Her mind sounds into action, trying to sort out Kire's question. Why Envy? Why not Ruli, whom she'd already appeared to? Had she always wanted Envy? And what if Envy didn't come back?

For minutes, as Daryll explained their own slight victory in finding the young woman, Ysaryn was still, silent, thinking.
"No one returns to Úvano." She said at last. "Ruli to stay. You." She gestured to Kire. "You go through, not say anything, yes?" Ysaryn said, looking thoughtful. "No one to know until," she glanced toward the forest, to where Ruli waited. "just, not yet."

[Michellin]

“I’m not going back until we know for sure what happened to Envy, or until we bring him back,” Gavin said, his voice more resolute now. Kire nodded. “We might need blood magic,” he muttered, thinking aloud to himself. “Could you take me to where Ruli is now?”
Kire nodded. “Ruli’s…not really thinking about solutions at the moment. Not yet, anyway. He’s still in shock. Understandably. I’m not conceding, either.”

“Is there anything I can do? That we can do?” Narda asked. Kire could see the giantess was disturbed, not just because this was Envy they were talking about, but because this was a crisis that needed more than a warrior’s skill to face. Her friend’s question gave Kire pause. She looked over her shoulder at the direction of the forest. She needed to search that whole forest. For Envy, or for any sign of him, or for any clue as to why the Goddess chose this place, out of all the places in this world or the other, to have her newfound worshippers build their temple. For that, she needed more people. But unlike Ikegai and Akuma, she wasn’t just tracking one powerful mortal, and unlike the retaking of the Capital, despite the magic element the blood mages brought, war was still familiar. She couldn’t very well just send the next few people into the forest to search, then lose them too. How do you stop a god?

“The town. Where you found Lyta. I want to know what happened to it. If finding more people with magic is something I need to be concerned about in the coming days, I need to know now. Especially if it has links to Solaralai. And later, I want to talk to this Lyta.”
“She is a very nervous girl,” Narda warned. “Her power is volatile, tied to her emotional state. Ysaryn here seems to be the one that gives her the most comfort.”
“I’ll take nerves over a deity any day.” Kire looked to Ysaryn. “I want to know anything that has to do with gods. Solaralai, the moon god, any god. On this side and on the other side,” she added, looking to Daryll. Then, to Gavin. “Envy was talking about you and Ruli wearing charms to block out the visions. I know Ruli refused it, and I don’t know how he’ll feel about that now more than ever, but I want to see the limitations of this god’s power. I know that sounds like a contradiction, but just humor me.”

Gavin nodded. “Okay. A way to track Envy, and a way to keep her visions out.”
“It’s not just for the visions. You know how you and Ruli kept us invisible during the siege? I want to know if Solaralai can’t see us while we’re in there, or while we’re in close proximity, until we take the charms off.”
Gavin rubbed his nape. “Against a god? I—we’ll try.”
“But first we have to get Ruli to help.” Kire frowned, her mind on the way he looked, rooted to the spot where she had left him. “Something tells me it’ll be difficult to make him move.”

[Carantathraiel]

Ysaryn was still quiet, her eyes focused on the ground as her mind churned her thoughts. Absently, she chewed on the inside of her lip, only looking up when someone mentioned her name. Her fuchsia eyes landed on Narda, who seemed to be speaking about the Lyta girl. Immediately after, Kire looked her way and asked about the Gods. Ysaryn blanked, blinking at her.
"I can take you to the priests." She offered, reminding Kire that she was to speak with them in Úvano. "They will know. As for others, the Moon God, perhaps the Raielwen will know?" She offered thoughtfully.
Here, though. She wasn't sure who would know about the Gods on this side. Perhaps she could question Ed. Warriors often found purpose or solace in deities.

Ysaryn cautiously followed as they approached Ruli, who knelt in the soil near the edge of the forest. He stared ahead, frozen, as if trying to listen. Or, perhaps, to see through the invisible fog to find his foster father. As he heard them approach, he blinked, turning his head slightly to listen.
As they explained their thoughts, and Kire's rather short but enormous list of requests, Ruli shook his head. "Tracking him is far fetched." Ruli said. "We would need something with his signature. Something strong. He isn't connected to anything." Each word he said made him feel more and more helpless. "A lock of hair. A drop of blood." They had access to nothing that would help them.
"What of pillow?" Ysaryn asked. "Long hair slips onto pillow and bed in sleep."
Ruli's shoulders shrugged, as if to say they were free to look. Ysaryn glanced at Kire, her expression promising to go back to Úvano shortly and hunt.

As he was asked about blocking them from the Goddess's sight, he again shook his head. "Hiding magic from magic users is one thing. Hiding three figures from an deity is another. Especially since we don't know the extent of her power here. Even if you were invisible in the woods, she could use the husks to watch you."
"Husk?" Ysaryn questioned the word.
Ruli gestured to the villagers Solaralai was using to protect her stolen earth. "I would offer to just make you invisible, but, magic senses magic."

Turning his head, his pale gaze landed on Kire. "What did you see when you went in there? Minutes ago?" He frowned as she retold the scene, shaking his head before looking away again. Nothing useful.
Ysaryn stuck out her jaw, watching him. "Good for nothing pain in the arse, you are." She grumbled at him. "You think on it. Yes? We're going to investigate something. When we come back, so help me if you don't have anything to offer I'm tossing your stupid little plant in the ocean, and you with it."

Huffing, she turned around and faced the others. "Who is going to sleeping town?" The elf demanded, holding out her hand.

Once there, she released their hands and folded her arms, visibly annoyed. Her eyes were dark as she surveyed what was before them.

[Michellin]

Ruli had nothing.
Kire frowned, seeing the helplessness creep into Ruli after he reacted to what she had seen in the forest. Ysaryn looked the way she felt at the moment. How could Ruli just give up on Envy now? And yet, Kire remembered how she had first met him, the self-imposed, guilt-ridden exile, closing himself off for the ‘sin’ he had committed of letting Akuma in. A shadow of a man. Gods, she did want to snap at someone, something—but not yet. Not now. Gavin, too, seemed like he was about to be lost, himself, seeing how one of his mentors had disappeared, and the other wasn’t putting his foot forward to get on top of the situation. But from the look in the lad’s eyes, he at least wasn’t as ready to stop thinking of solutions.
“I’ll hunt down something. His hair, maybe his pipe, something. I’ll comb his room if I have to,” the young Gemini said.

Kire nodded. “Look, she may be a goddess, but for now she seems most powerful within the confines of the forest. A god with limitations is an enemy with weaknesses. We’ll find it.” She looked at Narda, who had been gazing at the forest, uncertain. “We’ll find it,” she said again, more firmly, both to convince her friend, and, in part, to convince herself. She frowned again as Ysaryn berated Ruli’s lack of initiative. “We need everyone to put their heads together here,” she said to him. “Alright? We’ll figure something out. Narda, Daryll, you two go on back to the town. I have something to take care of here.”

The town was still wrapped in a haze of sleep. Narda and Daryll felt it immediately. “Then it’s not Lyta,” Daryll said.
“The next question then: is it the goddess?” Narda grunted, narrowing her eyes as she did her best to focus through the fog. “I have a feeling the mayor knows more than he lets on.”
“And I don’t think the goddess has anything to do with this town,” Daryll said, similarly frowning as he looked around. “We haven’t had a single vision since getting here.
The sleepiness looked worse this time, too. None of the guards accosted them, and anyone who looked their way had glazed eyes, as if already half-dreaming and assuming they, too, were part of it.

Narda heard a cry. Turning, she just saw a familiar plump figure run away, and immediately afterward the people nearest to where she had been standing slumped over, a few of them even snoring as they sank down onto the ground. “Isn’t that the mayor’s…” Daryll began, before a big yawn interrupted his statement. “The mayor’s…” With each attempt to finish the sentence, Daryll slowed down, until finally he, too, had succumbed to sleep.
The giantess would have helped him up and shaken him awake, but she, too, blinked slowly at the spot the woman had left behind. “Y-you go on ahead, Ysaryn,” she grunted, the words slurred as if drunk. “Bring her…bring her here…”

The mayor’s wife didn’t go far, torn between the fear of being caught and the fear of a harsher penalty. She knew she couldn’t very well go back to her house, knowing that the strangers had just been there. After they had left to fetch the Lyta girl, she had grown so nervous that, upon her husband’s frantic return from the Glenn house, she had put even him to sleep. The effects would normally fade after a while, but she had to keep it up. There was no way she could run from the Crown. And the peculiar woman with the unearthly features that the giantess and Wyvern had brought with them didn’t even succumb to the sleep at all. It was only a matter of time.

Realizing this, the woman stopped running and turned. “Please—don’t be angry at us,” she pleaded, kneeling. “My husband and I—we didn’t know what to do when the—when this thing started happening to me,” she said, sobbing. “It had started happening about a month ago. Not long after Her Majesty got her throne back. My husband, he said I would be taken away. We know what the Crown does to people like the Gemini, t-to people with uncontrollable magic.” She sniffled, and pointed to the direction of her house. “The lords of these realm, even the lady Countess’s own father, they had sent vassals, messengers here. First time it happened, I had put them to sleep by accident. The next ones, w-we, I-I mean.” She sobbed again. “It just got worse from there. We were afraid the next ones that would come would punish us a-and all we could think to do was keep them here.”
--
Heeding Ysaryn’s advice not to go back to Uvano just yet, Kire took Gavin to Narda’s and asked where Envy had stayed the night. The servants had yet to clean and replace the bedding, so Gavin scoured the room for any traces his mentor had left behind. “I almost wish he and Narda really did sleep together, there’d be, er, more to get out of it,” the lad said with a nervous chuckle. Kire didn’t chastise the crass remark, seeing the concentration on Gavin’s face, knowing he was trying to sort through his own desperate thoughts. He found a few hairs, though he paused and wondered if he should just bring the pillowcases and sheets with him anyway.
“Would getting Kartaian blood work at all?” Kire wondered aloud. “Any Kartaian blood? Since I doubt there would be any other Kartaians this side of the gate.”
Gavin’s face crumpled. As Ikegai’s unwilling servant, he’d had more than his fair share of dealing with Kartaian bodies and using their blood to turn them into dolls. “I—it could. But you can’t exactly find that lying around here—or on our side. And it works better if you’re blood-relation. But again—you know.”
“I know.” Kire grunted. “It was just a thought.”

Gavin looked at the anger and frustration in Kire’s eyes and shuddered; it almost reminded him of another pair of eyes that had murder in them, red irises like embers, on an eerily perfect face. Kire was, after all, the type of person to hunt down her quarry across two worlds, slaughter her way through an army of dolls, and killed her enemy at the expense of her own life. Even if Kire wasn’t Akuma, Akuma’s own cold hatred had its origins somewhere, a twisted version of something that nevertheless had real roots. “I’m scared, Kire.” He admitted. “Envy’s gone and—did you see the look on Ruli’s face? It’s like he’s just—he’s here but he’s not. And he’s usually the biggest smartass with all the answers.”
Kire sighed, and the knife-sharp anger Gavin saw in her eyes dissolved into something softer. More tired, more worried. “I know. I saw.” She stepped closer to him and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’ll have to prepare yourself. I know you looked to both of them for guidance, but you might have to take on more of a burden now, yourself. At least on your side of the gate. But you are a capable young man, and a capable mage.”
Gavin nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. “What’s our next move?”
“We wait for Ysaryn to come back with the others, and then we’ll see about trying to get Ruli’s head back into the game for this. I need to talk to Risa and the goddess’s worshippers on your side, and the priests Ysaryn mentioned. And maybe go back to see the Raielwen again.”

They returned to camp, where Myka reported that, oddly enough, there wasn’t much trouble stirring among the townsfolk confined within. The ones they had taken from the forest look more clear-eyed than they had been earlier, and none of them had set anything aflame just yet. “I don’t know Kire. It feels—weird. Eerie,” the Wench captain said. “Like they’re waiting quietly for something.”
“We’ll just have to take advantage of their compliance for now,” Kire said, rubbing her nape. “They’re at least making good on their promise to wait for me to make a decision. In the meantime, perhaps a makeshift temple. Not to her, but to the patron deities of this province. If they pray to them either way, that might be enough of a compromise.”

[Carantathraiel]

Ysaryn took in the strangeness before her. It was getting worse. Aside from her own two companions who grew drowsy and barely coherent, the guards and locals were glassy-eyed. Lost in their own other-worldly dreams. "No." She said, agreeing with Daryll. It was not Lyta. Somehow, it hadn't effected Lyta and her family within the confines of their own home. The girl was so sleep deprived she looked like one of the strange nocturnal creatures who harassed chickens in the night.
Magic sensed magic. The source of this must be weaker than Lyta's own power. Her terror would have drowned out the desire for sleep.

So why hadn't it effected her mother and step-father?
About to insist that they go and seek the married pair to question about their own suspected powers, the gasp behind them made Ysaryn turn. Her fuchsia eyes narrowed as the figure ran. Never mind them, then.
On Narda's instruction, Ysaryn took off in a paced run, drawing her blades as she tore around the corner and after the mayor's wife.

Only to find the chase disappointingly anticlimactic. The woman turned around and raised her hands, kneeling before Ysaryn as the elf approached. Keeping her blades drawn, Ysaryn tilted her head and grinned, flashing her sharp canines. The fear on this one. She could smell it earlier in their home over tea, and had assumed it to be a reaction to Narda's and her own appearance. Now she knew better.

The woman wouldn't stop talking. So much she offered, and so freely, that Ysaryn sheathed one of her two blades and set her hand on her hip impatiently. Spineless woman. Such cowardly acts in her tribe would result in an ended life far too quickly. "You have a mistake in you assumption, woman." Ysaryn spat down at the kneeling woman. "It is not those who have magic the Crown dislikes. Gem-en-ai are cruel bastards who torture and bleed for their own profit. That is why they are hunted and sentenced. People like me," She gestured to herself, raising her chin. "offer services to you chieftess. Guidance. We are not seen as enemy. The girl, Lyta? She will be helped. Taught. As would have you. Maybe still, if you put an end to the sleep and confess you fears. Emp-eress is hard as blade, as we all must be as chieftess, but she is also understanding."
Ysaryn shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her eyes wandering down the length of her still-drawn blade. "You are to come to the Lady Narda. Put end to you sleep magic. Confess. Yes? Or, no. And we will see how understanding Crown is when foreign chieftess makes target practice of sniveling house wife." A flash of her wolfish grin, and Ysaryn stepped back to invite the woman to walk back toward the others.