[IC] The Hourglass Order

[Force and Fury]

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Thin Air 𝅗𝅥 𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝅘𝅥𝅯 𝅘𝅥𝅰

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It was eight minutes and forty seconds of chaos - in truth, one hour eight minutes and forty seconds - for the preparatory period beforehand saw more than its share of skullduggery, sabotage, and hurried or even preparation. By a myriad of means, one thousand two hundred eighty youths from the world over ascended into the air.

In practice, this meant kinetic, magnetic, or even chemical magic for most. Skyborn abilities were in great demand. For many, it meant climbing countless flights of steps, launching themselves into the air, or hitching some sort of ride. Some had dragons or other beasts of the air, but most did not. A handful bought or rented hot air balloons. The Travendours of Perrence made a small fortune that day. Then, there were the contraptions: magically or mechanically powered, they fluttered, flopped, strained, and sometimes even rose into the sky, rarely majestic but always entertaining.

The problem was that they sure made nice targets. Dozens were the youths who fell, screaming, from the sky, saved either by their own magic or that of the many Zenos on patrol. It was more than one who grumbled and griped about the thankless and demeaning job, but such was the unquestioned strength of this tradition that they dared not voice their open objection.

When the bells began to chime and half a minute remained, what a show it became! How they flung themselves into the air! How they battled, swooped, and flew! Balloons went down in flames, frontrunners crashed and burned, desperate last-second gambits either came to sudden fruition or - more commonly - backfired. The great aerial faire came to a conclusion as the powerful Temporal Magics of the most eminent masters held time still long enough for the various teams’ heights to be measured and recorded.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. They gathered in the Grand Plaza before Balthazar Hall as wooden panels flipped and fluttered in the grasp of kinetic magics and the leaderboard came to reflect the results of the recent event. While there were some new faces who had ascended and some dominant forces who had fallen, the majority of the upper echelons remained the same. The handful of teams - mostly of the Academy itself - who had dominated from the outset continued to do so, though the race had tightened to a scintillating degree heading into the final event: Chamber of Greed.

Thin Air Standings

Thin Air Standings

• Colloy: 1600
• Solstice: 1368
• Luna: 1330
• Secto: 1290
• Afraval: 910
• Zemana 909 (920)
• Mozaru: 850

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Misadventures

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With that, they found themselves dismissed. It was not quite yet noon and much of the day remained. For all teams ranked below twenty-fifth, the scramble to gain enough signatures to join in the final event commenced, for the Chamber was open only to the top twenty-five and the same number more of those who gathered enough support to join them. The rest… dispersed. They dispersed to their various interests, pursuits, errands, and socializations. Many got up to mischief and some found themselves genuinely in hot water, for the City of Magic was very much a powder keg by this juncture, its leadership desperately trying to keep the lid on matters until the festivities concluded.

There were misadventures in Mudville, trips into Perrence, and the rumblings of an unadvised youth rebellion during the night that did go according to plan. Perhaps the greatest mystery was just what took place on the Ensollian island of Djamant, for a half-dozen students of some of the competition’s most dominant teams found themselves there by means of Temporal magic and then in a fight for their lives against forces unknown. The mystery only deepened with the disappearance of the team fielded by the Holy See of Varennes: Covenant, and the intrigue sharpened as news spread of the coming arrival of multiple heads of state.

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Greed

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The day dawned with the rumble of thunder and a steady downpour: an early summer storm of the subtropics as if to mourn the end of the Games and the approach of war. Yet, it did not dissuade the teams who had been gathering signatures for the past twenty-three hours. After a final scramble, twenty-six of them (for one qualified automatically due to the mysterious withdrawal of Covenant) joined the automatic qualifiers and the stage was set.

It was 5:00 HS when the first of the contesting groups stepped through a swirling violet portal to find themselves in a vast anteroom. White marble floors and pillars held up a ceiling of the same colour that seemed almost to glow, so clean and bright was it. As soon as the last of them arrived, a new portal opened before them and numbers appeared, ethereal and hovering in the air, counting down from ten, nine, eight…

The Chamber of Greed opened and the scramble was on. While some gave into their more selfish impulses immediately, the majority held back in the hopes of making it to the final round: legendary for the rarity and quality of its hidden prizes. In the end, precisely ten qualified: The Gunboat Diplomats and Blaze of Glory from the Group of Ipte, Snaked and Afraid and Vyshta's Favoured from the Group of Shune, SYCAMORE and Good Guy Team from the Group of Oraff, You Could Never and Lucky Seven from the Group of Eshiran, and Heartstoppers and team VOID from the Group of Dami. Some learned the trick of breathing within the treacherous chamber. Others remained in the dark.

Regardless of what they had or hadnt' learned, after a brief and late lunch, the ten remaining teams gathered once more in the White Hall. The numbers appeared. The players took their positions, each trusting or distrusting their teammates as they would. Then, the timer reached zero and the final game of the Trials began!

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Rules and Resources

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Welcome to the final cycle of The Trials. Though each team will participate in two matches IC, we will only be playing through the final one. This will be played out the same way that we did The Dragon, with strategies of up to 300 words being submitted to me, on this forum, by Direct Message (DM). Each active player will need to submit one. This must include which spot that player is going in (from first to fifth), a priority list of which chests or treasures they will be going for, and your responses to any trivia that you will need to answer to open those chests. The responses will not count towards your word limit. This DM will be due by Monday, December 26, at 10:00 PM EST. Please read the hider below thoroughly. If you have read it and still have questions, feel free to ask myself or a moderator for assistance.

Chamber of Greed: Rules and Info

Resources

• All information on the game itself is available in this document.
• A detailed, high-resolution map for this event can be found here.
• Though there are no allies in this event, profiles of all guest teams are located in this document.
• The leaderboard may be accessed through this page.
• The follow-up to this event, Right or Spite, will take place during the week after, once results are released.

Event five, Chamber of Greed, starts now. Good luck!

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[Ti]

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Event: The 'Leaky Ladle' | Location: Ersand'Enise

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“Another happy customer!”, Maura smiled brightly as she give out another portion of food. Ayla is still looking rather worse to wear from the very many and active experiences in the last week. The bed just calls her longingly like a Siren to join within that soft cushiony embrace. Trade seems to be flowing well through the ‘Leaky Ladle’, a rather small establishment based in one of the poorer districts of Ersand’Enise. It offers good quality food at very reasonable prices, including the option to ‘Pay for your Neighbour’ which allows free servings to be given out into the community. In reality, the enterprise is losing a lot of money, relatively speaking as a business, but it is actually a charity and most of the money is paid out of pocket by the two girls. They do have some regular volunteers though from the Fraternity helping out, including Jamboi who despite his offers of bennies, he is encouraged to be more hands on.

Whilst the society head was welcoming to the students, being a noble, nay, a high noble, did make it difficult for Ayla to get along with the others. If it wasn’t for Maura and Jamboi, they probably wouldn’t be interacting with anyone else. They did rope in one of the exchange students, Oksana, but she will most likely be going back home soon herself.

This problem isn’t limited to the society either, despite their very reasonable rates and good intentions, Ayla being the brainchild have made a few quite reluctant, especially with the teachings of the Traveller being spread around and hatred towards the noble classes, she seems viewed with suspicion. Thankfully, a 7ft Yasoi tends to keep the peace in dissuading more active actions against them, and the Societies reputation for good work does bolster the places reputation.

Despite all the negatives, there is a lot of promise. There have been a slow but gradually increasing number of those who regularly use the services. The ‘Pay for your Neighbour’ has been a big hit too, with people giving names and addresses, and payment, in order to help a fellow commoner in need. This is greatly appreciated by those bound by the confines of their property. There is recognition at the good quality of the food too, people enjoying themselves, though there had to be scaling back in this department as people disliked the over generous attitude. They seem to be progressing at a happy medium, a learning curve, of knowing what people want and need, and how much to provide or allow them to use their own resources to solve the problem.

“That is good. These games are so exhausting, it feels like there is never an opportunity to stop and sit down.”. Ayla perches upon a stool as she turns off the oven, the last of the baked dumplings are completed as the rich aroma fills the kitchen. “You are telling me. My legs are aching from that action.” Maura gave a cheeky smile over the choice of words, Ayla couldn’t help but smile towards her. “Nothing like that ever slips by you, you catch me out every time.” “Well, Ayla Arslan cannot too perfect now, she needs a good dose of hulimity.”

One of the regulars Antio made their way towards the front, “I saw you both in the colosseum! and.. oh… how is your head?”. Ayla cracked a smile as she rubs upon it. She never expected Jocasta of all people to do a cheap shot like that against her, a full powered shot aimed for the back of her head. Thankfully she was able to slow down the shot enough or she may not been simply beaned by it. “Trying to decide if it knocked more sense into me or out”, making light of the situation. “Definitely out, you are not kidding anyone” mused Maura. Antio laughs at the pair, as he holds his hands out to pass the cooking pot over to be served. “My Ma keeps questioning me on the food. She thinks I have snuck a woman in the house”, “Wait till you tell her you have two in your kitchen”, not missing an opportunity. Ayla moves to fill the pot with the beef stew and dumplings, kindly passing the food back over. “It would be lovely to meet Mrs Antio one day”, Ayla replied with a smile. Antio scratched his head with a light blush, “My Ma is unable to attend, so I can keep the ruse going a while longer of her thinking she has a good son.”, “and she does, you could actually be cooking for her!” Maura gasped at Ayla, and Antio looked shocked, Ayla’s eyes widen as she stammers out an apology till the pair burst out laughing. “No no, you are entirely correct, the Century shall charge me for poisoning my Ma if I gave her my cooking”,

As Antio walks away, she turns towards Maura. “You frightened me. Thought we deeply offended him then.”, “There is no ‘we’ about it. You were merciless!”, Maura shines a big smirk towards her. “My goody-two-shoes apprentice may graduate one day after all.”

Shadier figures decided to make their entrance today, and with the usual protection out spending time with a certain Perrench girl, it leaves the matter to Ayla and Maura to resolve. The ruffians decided to take a look at the kitchen as they started passing judgements about the quality of the establishment, especially the sewer rat special, a truly novel creation they came out with.

Ayla simply sat there with a smile plastered upon her face as she deadpan replied, “Unfortunately we do not have this on the menu, but would beef and dumplings work as a suitable substitute? We can offer a taste so you may see if it is to your liking”. The makeshift leader cocked their brow at Ayla’s response, “Are YOU being FUNNY with ME?”, he raises his voice towards her. Ayla shakes her head politely, “It is freshly made today, and we put a lot of effort into it. Would you care to taste it? I would appreciate your honest opinion. Your friends too. Have a seat and make yourselves at home.” The ruffians kind of look towards eachother, making jokes, “Yeah, you better SERVE US, huh” with emphasis upon her nobility. They slapped upon eachother arms as they made themselves comfortable. Maura soon pulled up towards them, serving from a tray upon her lap. “Here you are, enjoy yourselves!”. They dig into the food and appear pleasantly pleased, though the makeshift leader has some more words to say “GRAVY? More like SOAP WATER, right boys?”, they all chuckle and laugh. Maura, still in proximity bowed her head, “We are sorry to hear you disapprove. Please hand over the bowls and we will dispose it for you”. The table became silent, as they looked towards the ringleader “Boss, it is rather good actually.”, “If you don’t like it, I could take that soap water off you”. The ringleader starts to flush red in embarrassment and anger. “You’re NOT having ANY OF IT” as he snarls, “Now CRIPPLE, why don’t-'' though the words cease despite his talking, the others taking note as the ring leader shows awareness. Ayla claps her hands together, “Now now, as my Ma used to say. No talking whilst you are eating. There is plenty more if you need it.” She releases the sonic dampening as the Ring leader opens his mouth to speak again, as she then quickly clicks her fingers to silence him as quickly. “I think he is trying to say he would prefer a spoon”, the meeker up speaking up for him. Ayla simply smiles as she stops the dampening, “Then why didn’t he say that with his inside voice, we can gladly provide him with a spoon”. Maura uses her magnetic magic to bring over a spoon, then politely hands it over. The Ruffian chief grunts as he enjoys the food, the group getting a second helping. At the end of it, the majority of the group even paid their fair share before walking away without much ruckus.

One of them even came to the counter afterwards, Enthish tang to his voice. “We were well rude there, you did us good. We heard this place was ran by a noble bird taking advantage of us and we came to see her out”. Ayla politely smiled, “One was born a noble, you are correct.” The gentleman looked towards her rather puzzled, “If you don’t mind me asking miss, but why you here of all places and not in your fancy castle?”. Maura couldn’t resist but chip in, “Don’t ask her that if you want to be home before Dawn.” Ayla blushed a little as she replied, attempting to give a briefer response. It seems to have a growing reputation about long winded monologues. “To put simply… those who have, should help those who have not.” she moves towards the ‘Pay for your Neighbour’ jar. “People who are poor in coin are not poor in heart, they freely offer to help out their neighbour. The nobility have lost sight of this, and become poor in heart. This needs to change.” The gentleman looks towards the jar, as he grasps the meaning, “So the Traveller is right. We must cast them down and burn down their castles… yours excluded Miss, obviously.” Maura couldn’t help but giggle at the exception. “The Traveller isn’t right. The Traveller preaches that Justice is an Eye for an Eye, but all this would achieve is making the world blind. If helping someone who is in need of a coin is answered by giving them a coin, wouldn’t helping someone in need of heart, by showing them heart?”. The Enthish lad did look very confused and irrate at this, “So we respond to their brutality by rolling over like dogs?!”. She shook her head as she moves her hand upon his. “No, you respond by showing them how to treat someone properly. Firmly but fairly. You show them that you have heart. You show them they are in the wrong, not you. You win by changing their heart, making them see the error of their ways. You don’t drop to their level, you raise them to ours.” The Enthish lad looks a little confused, but definitely calmer. “So yer saying… we treat them good then they start treating us good?”, Ayla gives a nod, “When you came in earlier. Were you insulted? were you thrown out? were you treated bad?”, the lad shakes his head, “No Miss, you were mighty fine”, “And now, you and your friends have full bellies, feeling happier, and we were not escourted to our fancy castles. We get to have this chat instead, a far better outcome!”. Maura shakes her head, “Oh, is that dawn on the horizon?”.

The lad takes that as a cue as prepares to leave, “I don’t follow all them fancy words, but you are sound like a pound Miss.” Ayla takes the hand and holds it, “Wait, what is your name, you never gave it. My name is Ayla Arslan.”, “Maura Mercador''. The lad looks a little embarrassed, “Erm.. Smith, John Smith. My father is, you know, the smithy.” Ayla beams widely, “An important occupation. May Ipte enchant you and your family”. “You two too, Misses.”

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[jasbraq]

Dorothea Hohnstein

von Albesatz-Danzau

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Silent Overture

Dory was feeding her pet Schluckodil, Mrac. "You're growing quite well. You'll be big and strong soon!" It was truly hard not to spoil such a cute one like him, but she has tried to not make the young Schluck too spoiled.

After feeding Mrac, Dory grabbed her new favorite book and sat down. "Let's read some more of your adventures, mister Laughing knight." She carefully opened up the book once more. Reading and filling in the blanks for hours and as the book concluded, a bright smile was plastered on the Feskan's face.

"He's so cool! I wish I could be as strong as him. So confident and daring. In a fight he laughs, while I tear up in one." Just like a star-struck child, Dory got hit with the real world quite hard. "I won't ever be like him though" The girl grew more frustrated. "No matter how much I practice. No matter how much I learn. No matter how much I try! I will never be able to beat strong people."

♫

Envy hit the girl hard. Envy towards her own younger brother. Envy towards her Friends. Envy towards even people she barely knew. “If I had their power, people would look at me. If I had their power, people would respect me. If I had their power! I could make the common man’s life-.” For a second she paused, thinking about the encounter with the man whose glasses she took. Saunders and those ruffians. Anger filled her mind. “Scum like them don’t deserve a better life!” A picture of the Revidian that helped her seemed to calm her down. “Gianni. I still need to reward him… If only I ruled, I could lift up that boy’s status. People like that show true nobilitas.”

As the woman ranted and vented to herself she remembered a certain encounter. The words rang through her mind. ‘So, if you were to regain your position in Feska, Dorothea Hohnstein, would you rule fairly and justly?’ “Of course I would! Who is she to doubt me? The gall of her when the only thing as to why she can talk like that is her strength… That’s right, strength… All I need is to be strong… There has to be a way to get stronger than what is decided at birth…”

[RezonanceV]

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No Pedals:
Only Thorns

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1…
2…
3…
Go!

Roses and Neskals began every time the same way. Evander demonstrated his nimble and acrobatic-centric skills throughout the entire series. He dodged Neskals in hair-shaving fashion, hit competitors with sniper-like precision, and out-maneuvered teams to tear down their Roses. Team Mozaru outperformed the rest, and it was noted in the championship round.

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Real History:
Bloodwarping

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Evander’s feet crunched the earth below as he approached the Proving Grounds. A tight pull in his chest alerted his awareness. The force of the pull felt as if it were coming from the Statue of Emulus, who stood as tall as the height of the Avincian Empire he had founded. He gave into this otherworldy pull on his body and he arrived at the base of Emulus.

“Amazing.” Evander had a sense of wonder about the statue. His eyes were drawn to the intricate details engraved in the stone from Emulus’ spaces between each toe to his broad shoulders and thick muscular neck. He marveled at the craftsmanship of the armor and sword. He imagined the stories and civilizations that made Emulus who he was to Evander’s history-tracing his fingers over the contours, appreciating the art, culture, and beauty of the past sweeping over him.

Evander could feel his ancestors standing behind him for the second time since his attendance at Ersand’Enise. After having made one full circle, he stopped, stepped back, and looked up at the founder of the Empire, “abyssus abyssum invocat.” (sea calls to sea). Bowing his head only to see a plaque at the base near where he stood.

Curious, Evander knelt down to inspect the plaque. Discovering a strange marking, he follows it until he cannot. Extending his hands to grab the smooth cold plaque, he peels it up and over onto the other side revealing a faint scratching upon the stone, “Would you like to know the real history?”

The real history? Evander was not certain by what was meant. He looked closely at the stone. Beneath the scratching was a depiction of a dragon burning a village. Below the scratching was more words, ‘it was no man to found an Empire, but a beast. Fire fueled by blood, all came to pay tribute to their new Emperor.’ The message was unclear to Evander, he pontificated for a moment. A beast founded Avince? He saw in the corner of his eye some further scratches, ‘There are two doors to two rooms, one with fire, one with water, which do you choose?’

This would begin with the first of four clues. Not long after Evander began scratching his own head after examining the vague clues of a bigger puzzle scratched on the statue, Zarina and Abdel joined. The two walked over to a different statue, and over time, the three of them pieced together the full puzzle. A vault was unlocked beneath the last statue with their final clue. Within was a book containing the spell of Bloodwarping. The three decided to form a study group to learn the spell. Zarina was naturally apprehensive at first until she wasn’t having been persuaded by Evander.

The three would agree to keep the book between themselves because if it fell into incompetent hands, there would be more trouble than there already was at Ersand’Enise.

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Give Them A Show:
Not An Excuse

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As the sun began to set on the day of the Championship round of Roses and Neskal, Evander stood before the closed gate separating himself and the prize for victory. Surrounded by his teammates, Yalen, Jocasta, Trypano, and Carm, there was no way for them to lose. They had overcome and managed to be top contenders since the beginning, in Evander’s mind, there was no losing.

He had been preparing for this moment for weeks, honing his skills and studying the tactics of his opponents. His precision and skill in fire and magnetic began to expand as he tested himself throughout Roses and Neskals. Evander recognized his opponents were formidable, each a skilled magician in their own right. But Team Mozaru is…

…better.

As he stood before the gate, he closed his eyes and focused his mind. He drew upon the magical energies from his environment. The torches flickered slightly toward him as he pulled in their heat. His hands were to his side with his palms facing the gate. He continued to draw and channel his Gift into the palms of his hands. He was not only here to win, but he was here to give these people a show, to remember… his name.

A faint glow began to emanate from his palms, growing brighter and brighter. The gates opened and he led team Mozaru out onto the field as his palms projected a profound blinding light in the direction of the arena. The blinding light forced people in the stands to reel their sight slightly back as they gawked in awe at the aura Evander created around himself. The other teams would not be able to directly look at him as he entered.

Now at the center of the Roses and Neskal arena, he raised his palms and clapped them together to release a burst of fire which shot into the air, followed by a bolt of lightning up the center to disperse the flames in a crack of fireworks. The crowd of more than a thousand people erupted into cheers as Evander performed in front of them. Some would think his entrance was ridiculous, while others might have found it artistic and in the spirit of the show.

What was certain, Evander was here to win.

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No Pedals:
Only Thorns

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Evander approached his Noble quarter room. Placing his hand on the frame, he slid it down and back up. The click of the door unlocking was subtle but obvious. He used his magnetic gift to set a pin inside the door that kept it from opening. Unless one precisely knew how to play with it, it’d prove a little difficult to open. Evander intently pressed his feet on the floorboards in front of him as he entered his room. His face twisted into a scowl as he passed his private fireplace, he casually waved his hand creating a spark in the stacked firewood which shortly transformed into a beautiful display of burning wood. The crackling of the wood soothed Evander’s ears, yet his recent loss at the Championship of Roses and Neskals boiled infuriation inside of him.

The loss was more than his heart could take. There was no one around, and he let it all out,“Horse shit!” Evander spouted profanity.“Fucking cowards ganged up on us.” His blood raged. His heart pounded louder and louder. The veins in his neck were more pronounced, and the heat coming off his body increased. Between the heat from the fireplace and the heat from his own body, he was beginning to feel the final seconds of Roses and Neskals all over again.

The teams were let loose, except they all focused on team Mozaru. It was practically a fight to stay in it for most of the match. In the end, they fell far short of victory.

Evander paced the room with infuriation. Unable to calm down with clenched fists his body was subconsciously drawing in heat. His ring grew in color emanating a blood-red hue from the cracked veins across the surface. He marched to his desk with a temperature that would rival a fever for the average person. Arriving at his desk he finally let out a frustrated roar,“non ducor, duco!” (I am not led; I lead). He brought down his fists with the meat side down like a hammer on the wood below.

Upon contact, both fists flared up engulfing his flesh into flames. Evander surprised himself, eyes widened, expecting to feel pain from the long duration he allowed the flames to burn, instead he felt…

Nothing.

Mesmerized by the flames that seemed to temper his excitement, but careless to stop the fire engulfing his fists from spreading onto his desktop. Evander realized it slightly too late as he backed away from the desktop and drew in heat to extinguish the flame. The burn marks on the desktop were already singed into place, it was okay because he learned something new.

Evander knew fire could not burn him as easily as others, but he had no idea he could manage a constant flame on his own flesh for a long duration. The anger that drew him to this realization was no longer present, it was replaced by his curiosity. What else could he do with this talent? What did this add to his existing strengths?

Summary

• Evander, Zarina, and Abdel discover the Book of Ironshaper and the spell of Bloodwarping.
• Evander, Zarina, and Abdel decide to start a study group in secrecy to learn Bloodwarping.
• Evander performs in front of the crowd at the Roses and Neskals Championship round.
• Evander returns home pissed off and accidentally discovers his Scorching Presence.

[Pirouette]

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Interactions: None
Sweet Breathin'

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Early mornin' riser, Casii always was. Like the plants and trees that craved the first light, shuddered excitedly as morning breeze swept over them, Casii too found the light of a new day to be refreshing. She found one of the higher roofs in Ersand to situate on the ledge of and look out to the horizon, waiting for that sun. Her feet dangled and kicked energetically as she popped a fresh Jamb'ysp into her mouth, letting the buzz of take a weight off of her shoulders.

She ran her hands across her new staff that lay in her lap. The Living Staff, they called it. Casii wasn't quite so sure until she held it. A powerful presence sat inside, at least she thought so. Her first touch alone had made her believe there was something excited about greengrowth manas. She wasn't sure she could articulate it to anyone clearly, but the Living Staff wasn't just plant or a staff. It was more, something special.

"Humph."

Casii knew that sound. That grunt of disappointment had been chasing her all her life.

"What you want, ma?" Casii snarled, letting her throat churn a clump of her chew before she hocked it out down to the street below.

"What you want, ma is it? After all the fine raisin' I did, you go'n buck up like that? Avoidin' my visit, too. Yer always bad for benastyin' my mood before we even begin. Some ruint you turned out to be." Taarie spat, if her mood grew sourer, Casii could not tell.

"I ain't beholden to you'n yer raisin' any much. Why, I turned out dandy without you." Casii stopped swinging her legs to turn give her mother a sour glare. Although she could never quite match the sourness her mother always had. She tried, at least.

"Aggin' me on with yer look, girl what a fool yer turnin' out to be. Be any wonder where yer gettin' over yer head with warshy contest'n an unfitten prize." Casii turned away, staring back out across the academy skyline, just as the sun was starting to crest the horizon. She had a feeling it was coming to this. Her mother's greed creeping in to taint what should have been a chance for some sort of attempt at a warm relation.

She clutched her hands tighter around the Living Staff. It seemed to react, hardening to her tenser grip. It was strange, she thought it felt like the staff was trying to convey a resilience, even annoyance at her gripping it.

"Unlessen you want somethin'n, I wanna be on my ownself, ma."
"Yer ownself? That how yer goin' about treatin' yer ma when she carries yer kin to yanii land? Leave ya just like that? Girl, yer somethin' else. Heartless as a Finch'r."

Casii felt her chest stir with guilt. Was her mother really trying to extend some curtesy here? This felt like her mother's usual routine of making her feel guilty and preying on that, but what if it wasn't this time.

"Dammit, ma! I just wanna be on my ownself now! Casii leapt up and turned, snapping in frustration. "I'll... see you, pa, Jesuup later. Fair'n all?" She relanted, feeling like she was reluctantly conceding a defeat.

"Fine. Dunk yer head in the mud'n come find us. I ain't leavin' till we do a goodbye proper, girl."

Casii watched as her mother turned before gracefully leaping off the ledge, vanishing from sight but surely scaling down with ease. Now she had to find them later, knowing her word would be taken true. Her mother's threat was true to. She'd stay all school year, harassing her if she didn't give her what she wanted, but no way in five hells was she giving the Living Staff to her mother if that was it.

She sighed audibly. Where was Isii when she needed her? She'd need backup for what was to come.

[pantothenic]

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7th of Velles - 1:05 HI
Ersand’Enise Grand Cathedral
Flashback: Arriving home at the end of Prickly Situation

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It was another stormy night in Ersand’Enise. For the second time since his fateful meeting with Hugo Hunghorasz, Yalen chose to disobey the rules and wander the streets after curfew. This time his reasons had nothing to do with the wizard living in the tower. He was not on a quest to save a village or retrieve an important magical artifact. He just wanted to get as far away as he could from his friends, his family, and from the entire school. Yalen needed time to process what he had just been through.

Trying to avoid being spotted outside his dorm was even harder now than it was before the advent of the Trials. The number of sentries had nearly doubled to account for the chaos brought by thousands of eager spectators. Every street corner Yalen rounded was guarded by a pair of Lamplighters here, or a town watchman there. There weren’t many places to go, but he did not want to return to his dorm where he might run into Colette or Isabella. The roaming student was corralled this way and that by the presence of the night watch until he unwittingly found himself standing in front of the grand cathedral.

Yalen gazed up at the temple’s marbled spires, the rainwater flowing perfectly down her walls. Nobody came forth to confront him despite him being frozen there in awe. This divine sanctum was a place where the city’s soldiers were forbidden entry by the special authority of the Holy See. The Rezaindian guardians that protected the courtyard in their place gave him one look and then let him pass undisturbed. He had not visited the cathedral often enough for them to recognize that he was here as a biro, rather than a member of the clergy.

His arms drew inward as Yalen came nearer to the church’s cedarwood doors. He was deliberating whether or not it was right for him to be here. There was a miserable wind chill that turned the water to ice on his skin, and the sodden cleric was eager to escape the storm. However, his feet were weighed down by the confusing mass of emotions swirling in his heart. There was a nagging guilt that made Yalen want to turn around and run home. Even still, a part of him felt that coming here would help him find closure. It took him a few minutes of thinking it over before he found the courage to go inside.

---

Yalen took a knee before the altar and made the sign of the Pentad. He then pressed his forehead against the floor and prostrated himself before the gods. His consciousness fled for a split second when his head touched the ground. He was still exhausted from a desperate battle he had barely managed to survive. It took considerable willpower, and some self applied healing magic, to rise to his feet and walk back down the nave. Each row of seats Yalen passed was mostly empty save for a handful of late night parishioners. He had no difficulty finding a seat in the aisle that offered a suitable amount of privacy. Yalen settled onto the bench and rested his hands on his lap. Not a word of prayer escaped his lips as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

How could I let this happen?

When Yalen went to Djamant to help his friend Jocasta regain her memories, he thought it would just be a fun adventure with his classmates. It was supposed to be a chance to explore the world and meet new people. Maybe they would encounter some vicious animals, or at worst be forced to deal with a couple of crooks. Danger was a normal part of life, and he believed himself brave enough to face it just like everyone else.

His naivete left him unprepared to deal with the tragedy that occurred when the members of Covenant arrived. Escorted by a troop of Black Rezaindian assassins, Brother Wolf and his allies demanded that Yalen and company surrender Jocasta to the authority of the church. Naturally his classmates chose to resist, and in a fit of unexplainable passion he elected to stand with them against his sworn brothers and sisters. It was not his intention to hurt anybody. Yalen stepped up believing that he would help his friends evade imprisonment. Win or lose, he was prepared to submit himself to a tribunal when the battle was finished, so that he might be excommunicated for his betrayal.

What was he supposed to think then, when his brothers in faith sought to end his life without so much as flinching? For the crime of protecting his friends, Yalen was nearly beheaded and boiled alive. The others answered violence with violence, maiming and killing many. He had always known some of his friends were capable of taking lives, but the level of brutality he witnessed today was unconscionable. Worst of all, rather than leave or try to stop the carnage, the former pacifist had just become an accomplice to several murders. He assisted his allies in destroying Covenant, and thanks to that Brother Wolf was dead, as was Brother Ash and many others.

What will happen to me now? Should I drop out of school? Can I even go back home anymore? Yalen felt his eyes water when a crushing wave of anxiety washed over him. His body convulsed while he fought to hold back a sob. He was panicked and confused but couldn’t put into words why he felt that way. Yalen was too young to understand how to confront his feelings, and the guilt he was experiencing made it impossible to confide in his loved ones. His conflicted emotions were beginning to eat him up inside.

“Yalen? Yalen Castel?” A soft voice called from behind. Yalen was frozen stiff by the sound of his name being called. Nobody was meant to know he was here.

“Yalen, is that you?” The voice spoke again, much closer this time. Yalen fearfully looked around to see who it was that had found him.

“Mrs. Tomaras…?”

Leaning against the side of the bench was a young looking Thalak woman with curly brown hair. Kora Tomaras was the academy’s theology instructor and the head of the Carnation Accord. She and Yalen often chatted outside of class, so they had gotten to know each other well as a teacher and student. Without asking for permission the professor took a seat next to her weary pupil and started to rub his back. She could feel his body shivering.

Yalen furiously rubbed his eyes against his sleeve trying to pull himself together. Part of him was relieved to be near somebody he knew, but he was conflicted about too many things to properly engage with her. This was not the state of mind he wanted to be in while talking to a friend. He should have been more discreet while attempting to isolate himself.

“It will be alright.” Kora whispered while patting her student on the back. “We all need to cry sometimes. You don’t need to act strong in front of me.”

Yalen bit the inside of his cheek. She had nearly succeeded in sending him over the edge again. The young priest actually hated how easily he cried in front of people, because it was another way in which he was a burden to others. He had been in the path of danger so many times, and when everything was on the line it was always him who needed to be protected. That was a frustrating reality to come to terms with.

I can’t be the kid clinging to my sister’s skirt forever. Yalen reminded himself. He used a little bit of magic to suppress the soreness of his throat so he could speak.

“Thank you for worrying Mrs. Tomaras, but I’m fine.” Yalen gently pushed her hand down. “I get emotional sometimes when I come to pray, that's all.” He punctuated this statement by flashing a smile her way.

“Oh yeah, I understand completely.” Kora’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. She accepted his excuse so easily that he felt bad.

“Yeah…” Yalen trailed off. He scrambled his brain trying to think of a way to keep the conversation going before it got awkward.

“So what brings you to church at this hour?”

“Eh? Isn’t that a question the teacher should be asking her naughty pupil?” The corner of his teacher’s mouth turned up into a knowing smirk.

“Um…”

“Hehe. It’s alright, I didn’t mean that. Since you asked, I came to pray for the safety of those participating in tomorrow’s event. It’s something I do every year during the Trials.” Kora brushed aside her unruly bangs with the side of her hand.
“Are you one of the proctors for the Trials, Mrs. Tomaras?”

“Yes. It has kept me very busy. The kids can mend a cut or a fracture, but when their neck is hanging off their shoulders it’s always up to adults like me to fix things.” Yalen’s teacher stuck her tongue out with a grimace and made a slashing motion across her neck. The mental image made him recoil more than a little bit.

“That is an interesting look on your face. Have you not had much experience performing surgery as a Brother of Sunset?”

“It’s not that, it’s just…” For some reason her words brought Yalen back to the battle in Djamant. He’d thought of Zarina running a man through with her sword. Trypano transforming into a monster and biting a man’s hands off. He had dug his fingers into plenty of wounds. He had forced a lung into a man’s chest and stitched the hole closed. That was just part of practicing medicine. What Yalen never witnessed was the act of killing another human being in cold blood.

“Yalen!” Mrs. Tomaras yelled in shock as Yalen hunched over and went into a coughing fit. He was dry heaving.

I can still see their faces…! Yalen dug his fingers into his head until it hurt. He pressed his eyes against the palms of his hands until his vision became white. The memories were rushing back into his head again. Jocasta was the assassin she claimed to be. Trypano was a blood mage. There was an Atomic magic wielding psychopath in their school. Everyone was a killer. He was too, even if he wasn’t responsible for landing the final blow. The same could be said for the coup in the refuge. How many died there? He was a fraud pretending to be a holy man.

“That’s enough.” Said Mrs. Tomaras. There was a spike in magical energy. Yalen’s body began to tingle, and then it felt like his head was filled with pins and needles. His panic attack subsided as his emotions gradually flatlined into a calm equilibrium. He was strangely at peace despite coming close to fainting a few seconds ago.

Kora carefully observed her student as he slowly straightened himself back into a sitting position.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I- I’m fine.” Yalen waved his hand. There was still obvious tension in his face, but the professor could see that her healing powers had done him some good. She considered asking about the source of his trauma, but after watching his behavior she chose to keep her questions to herself for the time being. Her silence left an opening for the pupil to lead with a question of his own.

“Mrs. Tomaras?”

“Yes Yalen?”

“Is it true that you willingly touched an aberration?”

“What?” The teacher twirled a lock of her hair around nervously. It appeared the blunt query had made her uncomfortable, and rightfully so. “Well, yes. Yes I did. I guess even you pay attention to the rumors at school.” Yalen nodded, but did not mention that he was passing by her clinic on the day she fell ill.

“What made you do something like that?” He continued.

“Despite the church and the school making it clear that aberrations are not to be tampered with? That they have connections with demonic activity and forbidden dark magic? That we damn our eternal souls by laying our hands upon one? Are you asking me why I chose to become a vessel for an aberration despite all those things?” The way she said it so casually took Yalen by surprise. He was at a loss for a reply. Kora sighed and crossed her arms under her chest.

“It was stupid of me to try and contain the aberration, but one of my first years was hypnotized by it. I panicked and rushed for it first. How could I, a teacher of this school, stand by and let my precious student fall prey to such a dangerous anomaly? I would never be able to forgive myself.”

Yalen’s eyes drooped down as his thoughts drifted towards his sister. He remembered how, on the very same day, his knight in shining armor arrived to save him from an aberration outside of his dorm. That night she explained to him how she had absorbed over a dozen aberrations in service of the Century. She volunteered to do it because her devouring manas were resistant to the negative effects of aberration madness. Colette chose the path of the martyr just as Kora Tomaras had. Yalen had done the same for his friends when they defeated the dragons in Torragon, sacrificing his purity to lessen their suffering. He came home tonight a traitor to his order. Was he doing the right thing? Were they? What was this all going to lead to? Questions like these kept popping into his head unbidden. It was maddening.

“Are you- are you scared? Of what comes after I mean.” Yalen whispered.

Mrs. Tomaras looked puzzled. She had to stop and contemplate his incomplete question for a moment. She couldn’t meet his eyes when she finally gave him an answer.

“I… I don’t know what will happen to me of course. No-one does. It’s possible that I’ll be reborn as a demon, or I’ll be forced to endure a lifetime of purgatory. I am scared Yalen. How could I not be?” The Tan-Zeno clutched the Quentic rosary hanging from her wrist like it was a safety blanket. Her reaction hit him like a stab in the chest.

Before anything further could be said, the chime of a distant clock announced the passing of the hour.

“...I had better hurry home. I didn’t mean to stay here so late. You should go to bed as soon as you can, okay? I’ll pretend you weren’t here.” Kora straightened out her effects and rose from her seat. Yalen felt the sting of loneliness watching his teacher’s back as she walked towards the isle. He still had questions he wanted to ask her, but he didn’t have an excuse to make her stay. Before she was completely out of earshot, Kora abruptly turned around and offered him some parting words.

“The gods know us better than we know ourselves Yalen. Our intentions matter. As long as we act with the genuine wish to help others, I believe we can eventually be forgiven for the mistakes we make.” Mrs. Tomaras bowed her head and proceeded to leave further delay. When she reached the door she nearly bumped into a pair of clergymen, forcing her to make a clumsy apology on the way out.

She’s so kind. Perhaps she would have… Yalen shook his head. He wanted to tell her the truth about what happened today but lost his nerve. The tethered student slapped his head repeatedly, berating himself for being such a coward. If he wasn’t willing to be up front with someone as big hearted as Mrs. Tomaras, then there was nobody he would be able to talk to.

A confession then. What Yalen referred to was the act of requesting a confessional from the church. By laying bare one’s sins before an ordained member of the Somnian order, it was possible to shrug off the burden of their crimes and be forgiven. However, choosing to submit to Quentic authority over that of the local government was not as simple as saying a few prayers and swearing you would never sin again. Dami’s justice was fair and uncompromising; the greater the sin, the greater the penance you were ordered to endure. Atonement took different forms for everyone, but it was known that some people died before they ever completed their penance. There could be untold pain awaiting him if that was the path he chose.

Yalen sniffled and wiped his face on the inside of his sleeve. His teacher had helped him make up his mind. After wiping the bench dry of any water left behind by his damp clothes, the tired biro marched to the door. Tomorrow he planned to drop out of the Trials to return here to make his confession. Those who did not go to Djamant would surely be confused and angry at his decision to forfeit, but this was something he had to do no matter what. He knew that at least Jocasta would understand.

Yalen felt his stomach twist into a knot as he grabbed the door handles. If he followed through with this decision to undergo penance, then tomorrow might be the last the two saw of each other for a long time.

I don’t know if it will help or hurt her but… Before he disappeared, Yalen planned to give an answer to her spontaneous confession. He pretended not to hear it, but Jocasta’s affection was not lost on him. He knew what he was to the girl from the refuge, and what she meant to him in kind. It would leave him nothing but regret if he continued to hide his own feelings for her.

I just wish I hadn’t waited so long to tell her I love her. I’m such a coward! Yalen thrust the door open, causing a wave of cold air to blow through the chapel. He shivered involuntarily as he reluctantly stepped back out into the rain slicked courtyard. The downpour had weakened considerably by now, but it was likely to pick up again if the distant thunder was any indication. He had to hurry home.

[pantothenic]

Part 2

“Whoa!” The young priest was taken by surprise when the space in front of him started to warp. He took several steps back and watched distrustfully as the rippling air slowly molded itself into the shape of a temporal gateway. Manipulation of time and space appeared to be disturbingly common in Ersand’Enise.

Just what could it be this time? Yalen squinted his eyes and attempted to discern what lay on the other side of the portal, but other than an indistinct source of light he could see little of what was beyond. It was likely night over there as well.

Finally the ones responsible for opening the gate revealed themselves. Two figures stepped out, one of whom was somewhat familiar to Yalen. There weren’t many priestesses walking around bearing the distinctive phenotype of a blood child. When her crimson eyes met his, she gave him a polite bow.

“Sister Graziano?”

“Greetings Brother Castel! How are you this evening?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Uh, thank you for asking. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Yalen felt apprehensive about this sudden encounter. Had Gloria been sent here to make him answer for Covenant’s demise? It was obvious that they had been waiting for him to leave. The timing was too perfect.

Yalen’s eyes moved to her left. The person accompanying Sister Graziano was not quite as eye-catching as she was. To say they were dressed plainly was an understatement. Their sandals looked worn out and ill suited for the present storm, and the stranger’s attire consisted only of a slate colored robe tied at the waist with a length of fabric. The only thing that stood out about them was their face, which was concealed behind a metal mask cast in the shape of a snow leopard. There weren’t any openings for the wearer to see through.

“It was I who arranged for this meeting.” The man answered back. “Well met Yalen Castel. May I have some of your time before you retire for the night?”

Yalen stared at the pair with weary eyes. He had been on an emotional roller coaster today. His body was aching from partially healed wounds and sores, and it had been far too long since he last saw his bed. On top of that, he had no idea who this man was. His only reassurance was that neither of them had attempted to cut his head off on the spot.

“I see I need not introduce myself. May I ask for your name sir?”

I am-” The masked man was ravaged by a spontaneous fit of coughing. ”I am Cardinal Verus. Dami guide you, my child.”

A cardinal! Yalen bent at the waist until his back formed a perfect angle. “And Oraff keep you your eminence. I am sorry for speaking so plainly to you just now.”

“It’s alright. The blame does not lie with you Yalen. I-” Another fit of coughing, now even more severe. Gloria hovered her hands over the cardinal’s chest and concentrated. Yalen could sense the flow of energy produced by her healing spell.

“Thank you Gloria.” Verus gave his assistant a grateful nod and went back to speaking with Yalen.

“I am dressed like this so I won’t be recognized in public. There are people who would see me dead in the street if they knew I was coming here. Every day I find it harder and harder to talk to people in person rather than through a messenger.” Cardinal Verus hobbled closer to Yalen so only a few feet’s distance separated them. The tethered stood his ground for the time being.

“You have held my interest for a while now, Yalen. May I call you Yalen?” The man tilted his head questioningly, unable to express himself through the cold iron mask. Yalen nodded in the affirmative, ignoring that the cardinal had already called him Yalen several times now.

“Glorious. Before I discuss my business with you, I would like to shake your hand. You don’t mind, do you?” Verus extended his hand outwards. His oversized sleeve rolled back to reveal a hand that was covered in ugly scars. The tip of his middle finger was missing, replaced by a smooth nub. The two gently shook hands. When they did, Yalen thought he felt something like static pass between their palms, but the sensation was too faint to know for certain.

“Oh. It is as I thought.” Verus muttered under his breath. “Yalen, you have been touched by the darkness, haven’t you?”

“Pardon?”

“The void. I can feel its energies moving through you. It has made you stronger. More resilient. More…” The cardinal was interrupted by another whooping cough. Yalen retracted his hand and rubbed it.

“Aberrations. You’re talking about aberrations, aren’t you?” Yalen spoke bluntly. “Did my conversation with my teacher raise your suspicions?”

“What?” Verus pulled his sleeve back over his tattered hand. “Your discussion with Mrs. Tomaras had nothing to do with us. I assure you that no eavesdropping took place.”

“Then how did you know?”

“Because I’ve been trained, and because I know where to look for the signs. Or did you mean to ask, how did I know to check you in the first place? Well…” The cardinal shrugged.

“It was just an educated guess. The anomalies have been popping up all over your school. It would be strange if at least one student didn’t disobey the rules and try to absorb one.”

So he doesn’t know that there was an aberration in Torragon. Still, the cat is out of the bag now. There is no point in hiding anything from here on. Yalen’s expression darkened.

“Then are you here to punish me?”

“...”

Cardinal Verus burst out laughing until he was hunched forward in pain. Gloria silently tucked her hand underneath one of his armpits while rubbing his chest.

“Hee… ho… heh heh… That was… an excellent jest Brother Castel.” Verus loudly exhaled through his leopard mask. “Me, a cardinal, being sent personally to punish a disobedient trainee for such a trivial thing. What a scandal that would be.” The cardinal massaged his throat a bit.

“I don’t- I don’t understand.” Yalen murmured. “Then what...Oh. Oh, I see. Yes, I think I know what it is now.” He calmly closed his eyes. For a cardinal to come all this way, it would have to be for something truly abhorrent. “This is about Djamant isn’t it?”

“I told you he was a smart boy. He even managed to deceive Brother Ash for a short time. Can you believe it?”

“Indeed. The Dordians are lucky to have such a fine talent in their fold.”

Yalen lowered his head and offered his hands with palms turned upwards.

“Then by all means, please take me to the tribunal. I will not resist.”

The cardinal rested his knuckles where his chin would normally be and hummed.

“No... No, I don’t think I will.” Verus chuckled. He gripped Yalen’s hands with telekinesis and threw them down to his sides. The biro’s mouth was agape with confusion.

“Gloria. Take us to Fieldgate Tower. Get us out of this depressing storm.”

“As you say.” Reality flickered, and then Sister Graziano instantly popped up in front of Yalen. Before he could react she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him through another tear in spacetime.

---

Most of the furnishing in Fieldgate Tower had been removed for cleaning after the conclusion of the melon derby. The floor that the three now occupied was almost totally swept clean, aside from some piled up storage chests, a few shelves stocked with bottles, and a handful of torches in the corners of the room. These glowed faintly, still warm from recent use. Yalen encouraged them to burn just a little bit brighter.

“Allow me.” Gloria announced. She stretched her arms out wide and let her magic run free. The thick stone floor rumbled and shifted. Up from the dusty old brickwork sprung a limestone table, as well as an appropriate number of chairs for the trio to sit on.

“Take a seat.”

Yalen and the cardinal took the chairs facing each other while Gloria settled into the side seat. Verus clapped, and then a chest slid across the room and flung open. Wooden cups floated out of the chest and landed in front of everyone. The priestess transported a bottle into her hand with spatial manipulation and filled the cups with a clear brown liquid. Her master picked up his mug and raised it up.

“Before we begin, let us warm our bodies with a drink.” Cardinal Verus tipped his head back and sipped his refreshment through a thin slit in his mask. Yalen nervously traced the rim of his cup with his index finger, but when he saw Gloria take a drink as well he felt obliged to do the same. The liquor tasted of either molasses or sugarcane. It was dry, with a hint of vanilla and nutmeg. It was strong! Yalen reflexively beat his chest and coughed. As soon as the rum hit home, a warm feeling blossomed in his stomach and spread to the rest of his body.

“Now,” the cardinal began after putting his cup down, “Is there anything else you’d like to say to me before we begin?”

Yalen shook his head. “...No sir.” Even though the cardinal’s eyes were hidden behind a false visage, the younger priest still couldn’t bring himself to look any higher than the man’s chest.

“Very well, then let’s not beat around the bush.” Verus leaned back in his chair and bridged his fingers together in a relaxed position. “I know that you and your friends went to Djamant. I know that you met the team calling themselves Covenant, and that your meeting inevitably ended in bloodshed. However, I was not there to witness events transpire with my own eyes.”

Yalen swallowed a mouthful of air.

“I want to know why you went to that island. What did you learn in Djamant, and how did you manage to defeat a team made of the Optimate’s most powerful agents?”

“I-” Yalen began.

“Hide NOTHING.”

The cardinal’s voice pierced Yalen’s brain like a lance. It felt like he was confronting Brother Wolf all over again. His mouth formed words without his consent, possessed by the preternatural authority of Verus and his cryptic magic. Everything that was discovered on Djamant was laid bare. He could not stop himself from incriminating himself and his friends as Covenant’s demise was described in gruesome detail. Yalen was unable to resist revealing the true extent of Jocasta’s power, and the existence of the one called Benedetto. How were Wolf and Verus able to control a man’s will so easily?

“Hmm.”

“There is no hard evidence, but…” Gloria whispered.

“Yes, the boy’s story confirms much of what we already know. I believe we have finally found her.”

Her? Do they mean Jocasta? Yalen thought to himself as he massaged his throat. Were these people after her too?

“Yalen.” Verus abruptly addressed him, snapping him out of his idle thoughts.

“Y-yes your eminence?”

“Do you regret your actions today?”

Yalen almost immediately answered yes, but he stopped. Even without the compulsion of the cardinal’s magic, he felt that he had nothing left to hide from these people.

“N-no.” He lowered his head in shame.

“No? You mean to say that if I asked Gloria to turn back time, you would help your companions murder Wolf a second time?”

Yalen’s reply stuck in his throat like a thorn. He couldn’t get the words out, but only nodded in reply.

“Is that why you feel guilty right now?”

“A… a servant of Oraff should not willingly choose one person’s life over another. I-I…” Yalen hiccuped.

“I have sinned beyond redemption your eminence. I deserve to be punished to the full extent of Quentic law.”

“Do you?” Cardinal Verus leaned forward and rested his chin on his knuckles. “I wonder about that.”

“W-what?”

“I know how you feel, Yalen. As a Brother of Sunset your mission is to save lives at all costs. In Torragon, you even spared a man holding a child at knifepoint.”

So he was watching…!

”Yet, time and time again you have found yourself courting the angels of death. No doubt some of those tethered you trained used their gifts to take revenge on their former jailors… And now you have the blood of over a dozen clergy on your hands. I’m certain that In your mind your actions went against everything you stand for.”

“I have no excuse.”

“And I ask for none.” Verus quietly finished his drink and stood up. He began to pace back and forth behind Yalen while continuing to speak.

“Frankly Yalen, I don’t think you belong in a Dordian brotherhood.”

“Excuse me?” Yalen was so taken aback by the cardinal’s statement that he forgot to watch his tone of voice. He self consciously looked towards Gloria, who continued to observe without comment.

“You’re no idealist Mr. Castel, even if you pretend to be one. The confrontation between Jocasta Re and Brother Wolf would have ended in bloodshed with or without your intervention, and I think you understood that with your level of power you couldn’t have saved everyone. Faced with the inevitable, you made a decision no servant of Oraff wishes to make in their lifetime. You chose one life over another.”

“Love before duty.” Gloria crooned.

Love. Yalen’s eyes were squeezed shut. He couldn’t hide from a woman’s intuition, and he couldn’t hide from the secret that he had tried to bury deep inside his heart.

He had grown to love someone, and it was enough to sacrifice his entire future for her.

“It was a crime of passion, but while you were a traitor to your kin you still chose to show mercy. I heard one of the assassins was taken alive thanks to your efforts.” Cardinal Verus stood behind Yalen and rested a crippled hand on his shoulder. “You still believed in justice to the very end, which is why…”

”We’d like you to renounce your service to Oraff, and join us.”

“Renounce my-” Yalen stuttered. “How can you of all people suggest that to me?”

“Because she is no sister of the Unconquered Sun, my dear Yalen.” Verus interjected. “She is beholden to a much higher purpose, as am I.” His eminence paced back to the other side of the table with his back turned.

“There is a holy order so feared within the church that the Holy See would seek to ruin our reputation with vile propaganda. In their hatred of us they call us murderers, rebels, and vigilantes. They slander us because we refuse to bow before any mortal authority. Because we would even turn our blades against the optimates themselves if Dami judged them wanting.” The cardinal slowly turned around.

“We are the Dark Somnians.”

[pantothenic]

Part 3

“Dark Somnians…” Yalen gasped. Cardinal Verus was correct. Their reputation preceded them, and it was not a positive one. He had only seen them in person during important religious holidays which demanded mandatory attendance from the orders. They were viewed as reckless insurgents rather than justicars. Many assassinations and serial killings were pinned on the actions of the Dark Somnians, and unlike the Black Rezaindians they appeared far more willing to turn on other members of the clergy if their creed demanded it.

“You sound afraid of us Brother Castel.”

“And why wouldn’t he be? The church has been filling his head with lies before he could even walk.”

“That’s enough. I-I think I should leave now.” Yalen attempted to get up and exit the room…

“SIT.” …but his body would no longer obey him. Verus lifted himself into the air and took a seat on the table in front of Yalen. Being so close like this, Yalen could smell the sachet of herbs hidden underneath his elder’s clothes.

“Come now, are you really going to crawl back and submit yourself to their kangaroo court? There is no penance awaiting you Yalen. You saw firsthand how ready they were to cut you down to reach Jocasta. If they identify you as one of her allies then your journey will end on the gallows. I’m sure they’ll make a nice speech about you repenting in the next life.” Verus was wracked with another coughing fit.

“You should join our cause. We’ll give you a purpose again. Trust me, no one is as loyal to Dami as we are. The public fears us because our desire to protect mankind often drives us to violence, but make no mistake. We are NOT careless murderers. Unlike those Rezaindians, death is just one tool among many that we use to enforce our god’s laws. Just like you, we only wish to do what is right.”

“Even if the entire world despises us.”

“Why? Why do you want me?” Yalen demanded.

”We have had our eyes on you for a while, Yalen. We know what motivates you. If anyone can be trusted with the authority to pass judgment on others, it is someone like you who has no interest in acquiring power for personal gain. Your ability to love the enemy stems from an open mind, one that is able to look past your own preconceptions and listen to both sides. To us, you are more valuable than any gifted prodigy.”

“He still hasn’t tried to summon his friends to rescue him.”

“Of course not. After all, this is a man who would even lend an ear to the Traveler, our most hated enemy of all.”
“!!!”

“He has gone pale your eminence.”

“Oh. Don’t be alarmed. We are not omniscient. We just have agents in the refuges who help us keep tabs on things. Jocasta Re’s sudden appearance caught us completely off guard, trust me. We had each of you tailed in case you were her fellow assassins. That is how we caught wind of the Traveler’s presence… though she became wary of us and escaped.”

“We’re glad you didn’t let her words lead you astray.”

“Truly commendable. Unfortunately, the Traveler is not the only false prophet in this world. We have enemies all around us. Corruption within the church is at an all time high, and its disastrous mismanagement has allowed an unknown power to steal our most secretive magics. Futhermore, Hugo Hunghorasz-”

“What madness am I hearing! You would point your fingers at the paradigm!? He is the one who had us save the refuge in Torragon to begin with!”

“Do NOT be so quick to trust that man. You do not understand the extent of the magic that he wields… When someone becomes as powerful as Hugo, they begin to grow distant from humanity. He cannot be trusted to have our best interests at heart forever.”

“Especially since he is obsessed with your girlfriend.”

“What?”

“Gloria, be professional.” The cardinal growled. “As Sister Graziano says, there is a connection between Hugo and Jocasta. He has been following her closely ever since becoming aware of her existence. Of all the magic users in the world, her power is the only one to surpass his in raw potential. He may mean to have her captured or killed so that none may challenge his superiority.”

“That can’t be…”

“It is common sense for someone in his position. Think about it. If he decided to turn back time so none of us were born, she is one of the few individuals with the knowledge and strength necessary to challenge him.”

“He may have done it once already.”

“Stop interrupting me Gloria.” Cardinal Verus admonished. Gloria’s mouth clamped shut.

“That is just a wild theory. The man has grown so old now. If he was capable of such godlike feats, it begs the question of why he hasn’t already turned back the clock. Regardless, Jocasta is most certainly a threat to his existence. He cannot ignore her as long as there is a small chance she could be ordered to assassinate him.”

“She’s not like that anymore. Jocasta has changed!”

“But of course. You and your friends have made sure of that, haven’t you? I am just giving you an outside view on things…” Verus sighed and collapsed back into his chair. “In any case, the paradigm is not our chief concern. We are more worried about hostile forces working within Ersand’Enise. If only that damned Matthew hadn’t jumped the gun…”

“Matthew?”

“Brother Wolf. That misguided fool. I tried to earn his loyalty, but he was always the Optimate’s lapdog. If he hadn’t jumped the gun, we could have used Jocasta Re to lure out an even greater threat to stability. The league of assassins that she-”

“Wait! The Afortunado? What makes them so important?”

“No, no. Not the Afortunado. Jocasta hasn’t told you everything, has she? The acts she committed as an Afortunado were indeed worthy of condemnation, but we were not aware of her existence then.” Sister Graziano looked like she was going to explode if she kept silent any longer. The cardinal reluctantly gestured for her to speak.

“I was spying on Brother Ash when he confronted you. The accusations he made against Jocasta were not related to the Afortunado like you believe. Your understanding of the bigger picture is still incomplete.”

“They call themselves the Volti. They are an international terrorist cell. Their origins are unknown. Their identities are a blank slate. Above all, their reach appears to be limitless. We do not know who they work for or where they get their funding from. As usual we suspect the Traveler, but there is no evidence linking her to the organization. We had no proof that Jocasta Re was a member either… but we gathered enough anecdotal evidence to try and pursue a connection. The delegation from Varennes planned to torture a confession out of her before putting her to the guillotine. And they say our methods are heartless.”

“We think they were behind the plot to assassinate the throne holders.”

“The five kings? No! Does that mean Jo was involved?”

“Involved? It’s impossible to know. The Volti operate behind a veil of anonymity. They wear masks and obscure their voices whenever possible. She could have been there, or not. You would have to get her to talk, and that’s assuming that she is who we think she is.”

“We cannot stress how important Jocasta Re is. The secrets in Matthew’s head were priceless. If the Volti were the ones to sink their claws into him, then they have now become a threat to the entire world. Our best and only hope of pinning them down is by following Jocasta Re. Even if she isn’t Volti, her power makes her a prime candidate for recruitment. She MUST be protected.”

“Please, wait a minute. This is just too much for me to process all at once.” Yalen pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. These people were essentially telling him that he’s had his head buried in the sand and that his love interest may or may not be a wanted terrorist.

“I’m sorry we’ve burdened you with so much information Yalen. But, surely you have seen the signs around you. We are offering you a chance to redeem your honor and discover the truth.”

I suspected there was more to her than just the Afortunado, but I can’t believe everything I hear. Still, he is a cardinal of the Somnian order…casting doubt on him says more about myself than his eminence.

“Even if she isn’t a Volti, she has still done some regrettable things. Whether the Volti are defeated or not, I want to know what you plan to do with her.”

“After we started suspecting her of being Volti, we looked into the Afortunado case. I must say, the girl would make a fine member of our order.”

“Nothing but murderers and rapists!” Gloria gagged. “I would have killed them myself if I had the chance!” Her impertinence earned her a pinch on the ear from the cardinal.

“I would offer to help her lay low, but she seems… distrustful of the church, especially given today’s events. Regardless, I promise that we mean her no harm. I cannot say the same for the rest of the Holy See. We can delay their actions, but they will inevitably strike at her again. That is why we need you to be with her as much as possible.”

Though, you were planning to do that anyways, weren’t you?” Gloria beamed.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Yalen’s face was red like a tomato. He did not know Sister Graziano until today, but he definitely did not like her. She might be friendly, but her teasing put Zarina to shame.

“You’ve been very helpful today Gloria. However, I’d like you to STOP TALKING for a minute.” The sound of the cardinal’s command sent Gloria into a dead silence. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and pouted in her chair.

“Yalen, we have discovered much, but the puzzle is not yet completed. The fate of the world is at stake and we are running out of time. You and your friends could be the key to unlocking the entire mystery. I must ask you again, will you join the Dark Somnians? We cannot assist you without your oath of fealty.”

Yalen bit his thumbnail as he seriously considered the offer from his superior. It wasn’t like he wished to die. He just didn’t know how else he could make up for the atrocity that he felt responsible for. He hadn’t just disgraced his own order, he took up arms against the priesthood. The cardinal’s offer was likely the only way he would be able to remain in service of the Pentad. The only other fate that awaited him was death, or at least permanent excommunication. Neither option appealed to him when there were still lives he could protect.

“These Volti… are you asking me to kill them?” Yalen whispered.

“I am asking you to bring them to justice, no matter the cost. What that means is entirely up to you and Dami’s will.”

“And if we succeed in stopping them?”

“The Volti are just the beginning Yalen. We will always have an enemy in the Traveler, and the world is full of evils besides. Our work will never be done.”

“You seem to know much about the evils plaguing this world.” Yalen declared as he stood from his chair. “I admit, I am ashamed of my own ignorance up until now.” He bowed before the cardinal until his back was parallel to the floor.

“Your eminence, I feel I cannot sit on the side lines any longer. Not while my friends continue to fight their own battles. If I must stain myself black in order to uproot evil then so be it. I will become a Dark Somnian.”

Verus wordlessly wrapped his arms around Yalen’s waist and pulled him into a hug. The unexpected display of affection was a shock that left him standing there foolishly staring at the wall.

“Dami be praised! Dami be praised! Dami be-” Cardinal Verus entered another coughing fit that sent him collapsing to the floor. Gloria was almost too late teleporting from her chair in order to catch him. She massaged his chest with a circular motion and waited for his eminence to calm down.

“Huff. Huff. My apologies. It is rare for us to add a new member to our ranks. We have many friends, but even more enemies. Recruiting in secret like this is all we can manage.”

“Mmm!”

“What is it Gloria? You may speak now.”

“We should give Brother Castel his welcoming presents now.”

“Ah, well said. I will let you do the honors first.”

Yalen felt a spike of energy from Gloria before his clothes started to twist and stretch. The sensation gave him goosebumps. His holy vestments gradually changed their color and shape before his very eyes. White faded to dark gray. Gold embroidery was transmuted to silver. His outfit which had become ill fitting in light of his recent growth sat comfortably on his skin once more. However, the look he was presented with was confusingly familiar.

“I am… a High Somnian?” Yalen tugged as his collar.

“We find that operating in plain sight is the simplest way for us to avoid trouble. It has become difficult for us to publicly present ourselves, and so our official vestments have taken on a more ceremonial role. We plant agents like you in an order that suits their mission and gather reports from them on a weekly basis. Brother Pierce will help initiate you into the High Somnian brotherhood. You will learn their ways and perform the appropriate duties, but your loyalty ultimately lies with us. Understand?”

“Yes, your eminence.”

“Good. Give me your hand once more, if you please.”

Yalen allowed the cardinal to take his hand and examine it. His gnarled fingers brushed across the ring he made out of Rita’s snail shell. It was one of his most heartfelt treasures.

“This feels handmade. Excellent. A sentimental attachment will make the enchantment even stronger.”

Enchantment? Yalen thought. He then felt a sting in his finger, causing him to cry out in pain. “Ow!”

Yalen’s ring finger was covered in his own blood. The cardinal had forced the skin to split open.

“Do not struggle! This will only help you. Believe me.”

Verus squeezed his hands tightly around Yalen’s finger, and then he felt it. His ring became warm, and warmer still, until it grew unbearably hot. He was not used to such pain and involuntarily tried to pull his hand away, but Gloria was standing behind him to keep him steady. He bit down on his free hand and prayed for the pain to end quickly.

And it did, eventually. Yalen could practically see the red mist rising from his hand as Verus released his grip. The ivory colored ring was now stained a deep red, and even when the enchantment was complete it still felt warm to the touch.

“What does it do?” Yalen asked while admiring the cardinal’s handiwork.

“I’ll show you. Close your eyes.”

Yalen did so.

“Now… I want you to imagine the person connected to that ring. Focus on them at the expense of everything else. What do they look like? How do you feel about them?”

Mista Yaweeeen! Hee hee!

Of course, how could I have been so stupid? I can’t disappear yet. There are still people out there who couldn’t do without me. I owe it to them to stay alive for as long as possible. I’ll make this world a better place for their sake.

Yalen fondly remembered Rita’s cute round face and mismatched teeth. He remembered how much she loved to swim in the river, and how she hated studying arithmetic. Her capacity to enjoy life in spite of the hardships she’d faced was incredible. She was an example he felt compelled to follow as her guardian. As long as she had hope for the future, so would he.

Something feels amiss. Yalen’s eyes fluttered open to see what the cause for his anxiety was. What he saw next shocked him.

Gloria was pushing an aberration into his chest.

“What are you doing!?” Yalen shouted. He tried to get away from her, but he was being held in place by powerful magic. He’d been betrayed! “Get that thing away from me!”

“This is your first lesson in the real world. We are pulling the wool off of your head and showing you the truth.” Cardinal Verus calmly explained. “You have been told that the aberrations are unholy and should be avoided at all costs. The truth is, you were indoctrinated into believing that lie as a form of control.”

“C-control!?”

“Yes. If every person’s first instinct was to absorb an aberration the moment they laid eyes on one, it would cause absolute chaos. Some would succumb to the madness and die. Others would gain a hold of it and grow stronger than before. The former is dangerous of course, but the latter is what we fear most. Not everyone is like you, Yalen. They cannot be trusted with power lest they abuse it for selfish reasons. We had to slow the spread somehow.”

“You, like us, are different. You are not interested in strength for its own sake. You have always wielded your gifts to protect others.” Gloria added.

The surge of manas was the same as the time in the Dune Sea, but something was missing. Yalen felt his energy capacity grow, but the madness that consumed him before was no longer present.

“It’s that ring. If you meditate on it while absorbing the energy of the void, it can protect you from its harmful effects. Even still, I would not overdo it. We still don’t fully understand the nature of these aberrations.”

“What are they? Truly?”

“I’m sorry, we lack the means to understand them completely. Our order has only just begun to utilize them in a useful capacity. What we do know is that they have a connection with a dimension different from our own, and they can be created using specific applications of temporal or dark magic. The mechanism by which they operate is a mystery, though the Traveler might have discovered something we have not. I just want you to know this: as long as you treat aberrations with care and respect, you can safely use them to bring your strength to new heights. Many of your friends already have.”

Damn it all. How could I be so stupid? Even in his head, Yalen almost never swore. He felt like he had been left behind while his friends were running off to save the world without him. What else did he not know?

“I appreciate the gift, but if my manas continue to grow then my hourglass will only grow shorter...”

“Perhaps, but your lifespan isn’t as short as you think it is. Trust me, you will need more magic if you are to overcome the challenges that lay ahead of you. Aberrations are simply a tool to get you there.”

“As you say, your eminence. I will take your words to heart. Will there be anything further?”

“For tonight you are free to go. We will call on you when it is time. You should consider using the Trials as an opportunity to gather weapons and arm yourself. The end of the school year will also be a good opportunity to learn a combat skill or two. Maybe you should ask Captain D’aureville to teach you.”

“Don’t worry about spilling the beans or anything. She’s been working for us for the past two years.”

“Colette… has…?” Yalen felt dizziness overtake him. The exhausted student fainted on the spot.

[RezonanceV]

---

Common Ground:
A Desmond x Evander production

---

The Ersand’Enise courier showed up at their usual time. Passing out letters and mail to students from far away places, family homes, and between other students. Sworn to protect the words and gifts they carried on their travels was the honor of the Eresand’Enise couriers, an honor that was shared by some of the most talented professional mages of the time.

A neatly dressed courier approached the Noble Quarter dorm of Sven. Quietly the courier slipped new mail into the designated box. The home was registered to a renter named Desmond who for the first time may have received mail at this address. One neatly pressed rectangular-shaped envelope stuck out with a waxed seal denoting the sender was Revidian.

Desmond was given the mail by Sven when he made his return home. Upon reading the letter, Desmond found the following letter:

---

Dear Desmond Cautalus,

In Oraff's name - I hope this letter finds you well.

Your reputation precedes you. Congratulations on your victory as the new Champion of the Underground. I was not in attendance but heard through trusted sources you fought with skill and grit. Your conviction to never give up was most obvious to those who witnessed your feats. Well done.

Now for the purpose of this letter. I believe there is an opportunity for us to work together. I hear you are one to keep an eye out for work as a hired gun, a talent I am interested in. So, I thought it best to invite you in person over a glass of wine I recently purchased from you at the auction as a token of my goodwill and discuss what business may look like between us as a hired gun.

To that end, if your interest is peaked, join me at Dorm A10 in the Noble Quarters on Victendes on the 9th at 5:48 HO.

---

Desmond found himself in front of Dorm A10, it was a place with much grandeur like most Noble dorms. Multiple rooms, balconies, and even some small gardens for a single person and their servants that waited to cater to the whims and needs of their master. Desmond sighed as he adjusted himself one last time, making sure he looked as presentable as could be. His clothing was cleaned like always, his bathing rituals he now does every day, and he even decided to make sure he did his hair for this talk.

Once done with his final checks, Desmond made his step forward to the door and saw the large ornamental knocker on the door. The visage of the Black Devil was the largest feature of the Door knocker, yet there were many features within it that showed the amount of time and money that went into such a simple item such as multiple inlaid details of brass and gold to highlight scales and limbs, while within the open mouth of the Sea Serpent having a ring of gold inlaid with orange and red gems that shine. This intensely intricate and ornate item almost made Desmond hesitant to use it for its purpose, yet Desmond did so anyways as the large and gorgeous door seemed to have been made without a door handle at all.

Knock Knock Knock

Clicks and ticks. Clicks and ticks. The sort of sound Desmond would hear on his side of the door as Evander manipulated the iron pins in a certain order within the door using his magnetic gift to unlock it. Click.

The door slowly opened toward Desmond. There were no creaks, no signs of wear, and no loose parts. When walking into Evander’s suite he sees a large hearth with a fireplace. In front of the fireplace, there were two ornate dark wood chairs with red velvet cushions sown into them. The back of the chairs was open with two sea serpents entangled down the center. Between the chairs was a round dark wood table with two wine glasses. Underneath the chairs and table in the fireplace area was large orange and red area rug with the Synesti crest woven in it. The same type of fabric hung above the fireplace on the hearth as a small tapestry showcasing Synesti’s crest and motto.

Evander stood behind the chairs in the center of the room directly in line with the entrance. He casually waved Desmond in, “Welcome Desmond, I am happy you’ve decided to take me up on my offer,” his face cracked into a smile as he approached Desmond to shake hands, “did you arrive thirsty?”

Desmond noticed the furniture that seemed to have decorated Evander’s home, the gorgeous tapestry, the ornate woodwork of furniture, and the beautiful rugs and table. Yet what seemed to almost pull the room together was the man who had waited for Desmond. Desmond met the man’s smile with a warm smile and a shake of the hand, ”I’m thankful my reputation precedes me. And yes, I am quite excited to have a drink of the wine”.

Evander gripped Desmond’s hand firm with a touch of warmth, “Please sit down then.” He flipped his palm to face the ceiling while slightly curling a few fingers to emphasize his index which pointed to the seats. As the two rounded the seats to sit down, Evander picked up the Ellermane Blue, slowly he poured the Ellermane into two polished goblets. The sound of the pour could relax any wearying soul, and the aroma could be smelt even by those with the weakest of noses. All while pouring, Evander pulled in the heat from the room.

Once completing the pour, he raised both goblets handing one to the seated Desmond. Turning around he casually waved his hand to draw the curtains across the windows using his kinetic gift. The room grew dark and protected from the mid-afternoon sun. Evander sat, waved his hand back across, and the fireplace sparked to light up in flames.

Evander turned toward Desmond, ”I hope you do not mind, I find wine is better when enjoying it in front of a fire.” He raised his glass to toast Desmond. The clinking of the goblets and shared sip between acquaintances was to demonstrate what Desmond could expect from Evander if there relationship were to grow; the acknowledgement, the attention to detail, the comfort.

“Desmond, let me start by congratulating you in person on your championship. Not an easy task to compete at our age against some of the brutes that linger too long in places like that arena.” Evander drew up the goblet to parse a sip from the vessel. The goblet was as manicured as intricately designed as the rest of the Noble man’s dorm. Except, these goblets were made through a special process and craft. “I am curious to know, as a champion, what other dreams do you have?”

Desmond drank from his goblet and felt the atmosphere, it was one that was quite enjoyable. A calm fire, a smooth drink, and just enough light to feel comfortable. Desmond takes another sip as he says, ”I think the atmosphere is enjoyable”. Desmond listened to the lip service given by Evander as all Desmond did was smile and nod. Desmond took another sip of his goblet as then finally came the segway, as Desmond said with a light chuckle, ”Ah, becoming the Champion was nothing more than a small thing, all it was a is stepping stone to becoming more connected in the underground ring. My dreams are different, however. Furthering my craft, learning what interests me, and living a life I can be proud of. Those are my dreams and what I aspire for”.

Desmond spoke with a calm voice, this talk wasn’t uncommon, as people often wonder what the mercenary wished to do and Desmond was more than willing to answer. Once Desmond finished what he had to say he took another drink of his wine before asking his host, ”What about yourself? A man of your caliber must have aspirations of your own. So I am curious what you would need a Hired Gun for”.

Evander listened as the young man across from him dreamed a life he could proud of. A goal every man had at one point or another in their life Evander suspected. One last sip. He reached for the Ellermane bottle as Desmond reflected the question asked by Evander. Pouring a little more wine, he motioned the bottle with the tip toward Desmond as if to gesture, ‘want more?’

As the two refilled, Evander answered, “Aspirations of my own?” He thought for a second. “In a sense.” His eyes fixating on the flames and sound of crackling wood from the fireplace, “Something is coming Desmond, something that will risk the lives of the innocence, it feels like more than a war…” His eyes drifted down.

“...a culling perhaps?” The memories of the Laughing Sanguinaire killing wrecklessly, Sister Cadence’s warning of an Arch-Zeno traitor connected to someone called the Traveler, the list of Reshta, and finally the effervescent joy of sharing joy between a Belzogg girl who lost her balloon. The last image, the one of the little girl shattered in his head to reveal his imagination and prediction of fire and the dead cut him deep. The prediction of war between Parrence and Revidia felt as if it would end up in more than simply two nations fighting, it would be a war of attrition that would drag in all of Sipenta’s natural forces to collide with innocence caught at the center.

Evander gradually turned his head toward Desmond, “Your aspirations are your own, I can respect that.” He paused while keeping his gaze connected, “I am learning mine have never been my own. At first, I rejected it. Then, I accepted, in fact, I have found it more fulfilling to align my aspirations with something more than myself, I honor it.” Evander broke eye contact to look up at the family crest woven into the tapestry above the fireplace and then back down to Desmond, “Why do I need a hired gun?” Evander smiled, “I think you mistake the purpose of my invite. I do not need a hired gun, I want someone who understands that when the world begins to crumble…”

“...all that will be left are those who wish to keep it burning and those who wish to rebuild.” Evander leaned in, “I am looking for those who value life over death, who seek to leave this world a bit better than when they came into it, I am seeking someone I can trust to protect those who will be caught in the middle and fight for those who will be ready to rebuild a world after it burns.” Evander’s intensity rose slightly to emphasize the gravity of his statements, “I do not need you Desmond, I wish to honor you, and help you with crafting a life you can be proud of.”

Evander leaned in a tad closer, “Do you understand? In times of chaos, trust is the only currency, I wish to give you mine in exchange for yours, to prepare for what will come.” He softened his gaze, leaned back, and swirled the contents of his goblet cupped in his hand, “the question is, what path will make you more proud, preservation or destruction?’

Desmond listened to Evander as he spoke, he had a seriousness to his tone, his voice was calm and clear, and his words carried the weight well, as Desmond could feel the weight of ideas, and feelings, and it even invoked memories from not but a few days ago. Desmond kept himself calm, a light smile that never left his face, as he lightly sipped from the goblet, Desmond was finally asked a question, ‘what shall he do’. Desmond took one last sip of his wine as he said, ”I understand, thank you. What path shall make me proud? I wonder.” Desmond said as he looked up lightly and thought about what it would mean, what would he be doing. Desmond thought for but a minute as he finally sighed as he looked back down until finally he looked back up and leaned forward to Evander and said, ”I believe…I believe I would like to follow a path I haven’t yet. I think I’ll give my trust to you. Whatever that shall mean”.

Evander looked at Desmond with eyes like that of a friend. Their moment was true, a mutual adoration of strengths and a complementary understanding of how they could enrich their world together rather than separate. Evander leaned into meet Desmond, the silence was booming of reverence and he held out his hand to shake Desmond’s once more.

“Desmond, we will make this world our own, please stay as long as you’d like.”

Desmond had a smile lay on his face once more as he saw Evander’s eyes, as he took the outstretched hand, Desmond shook his hand as he said, ”I would love to stay, however I do have other work I need to attend to. Me and Brother Castel are cleaning the sewers today. I can’t let him do it by himself, he’ll hurt himself all too easily”. As Desmond began to rise he looked to Evander and said with a smile, ”I would love to speak more some other time, I will bring more wine next time, it was good”. And with that farwell, Desmond headed off, slightly changed.

[RezonanceV]

---

Making Friends of Enemies:
An Ingrid x Evander production

---

Evander entered the library of Eresand'Enise. Adorned with glass and steel spanning over 5 acres. The exterior of the building was sleek with long rectangular panels of glass that allowed natural light to flood into the interior.

He was greeted by a vast, open space filled with rows and rows of shelves. It appeared as if every book ever written was stacked on top of another waiting to cascade knowledge into all the students' faces. The shelves were made of light-colored wood and were arranged in a serpentine pattern, winding through the space like a river.

In the center of the room was a large atrium with a glass ceiling that reached up to the top of the building. The atrium was surrounded by a series of balconies where people could sit, read, and work on their studies.

Throughout the library, there were various seating areas. People could relax and read in comfort. Evander tried taking in the details of the endless space. Now standing in the center of the library he could hear a faint voice talking to herself. His eyes were focused upward at the atrium and declined to meet the voice.

"Ingrid?" Evander said under his breath. She muttered alone.

The last time Evander had seen Ingrid was when they crossed hairs at The Sideshow. I wonder what she's upset about. Evander did not particularly like Eskandr's. In fact, he detested their kind because of their role in accelerating the fall of Avince. However, politics and history aside, she was a woman, even if she was an exceptionally tall one.

Evander approached Ingrid with his hands visible. He plotted a smile on his face with perfectly crested lips from cheek to cheek.

"Excuse me, Ingrid," he said, "I couldn't help but notice you were talking to yourself." Evander paused, "are you alright?" He was now standing across from her on the other side of the table, "May I sit down?"

Ingrid had been intensely focused on condensing the subject matter into manageable notes and she had started to mutter."Take environmental energy and convert … various sources … heat… careful for…" A habit she picked up a few years ago from extended isolation was now rearing back up.

She was so engrossed that Ingrid was little aware of Evander until he made himself known. A slight blush of embarrassment went to her cheeks having it been caught, "Oh no, um," Ingrid struggled to explain what she had been doing, "I have a small habit of talking to myself when I get into a book." Ingrid didn’t seem openly hostile to Evander this time around, and more preoccupied with coming off as an insane woman.

Evander pulled out the chair he was standing behind. Sitting down, he leaned toward Ingrid before answering, “Me too.” He casually sat back as a smile crossed his face, “May I ask what you are reading?”

Ingrid appreciated him not focusing on her mumbling, Ingrid will allow him to take the seat. He proved himself nobler at the circus so his presence was less disruptive. Ingrid moved the book closer to him so she could read as well, “I’m studying other known radioactive materials and how to swirl the energy to cause the reaction chain. Surprisingly, light could be used to start it on the first few reactions,” Ingrid explained. “What of your studies?” Ingrid asked, seemingly curious.

Evander leaned in to read the title, “Vita Radium Axiom”. Leaning back he replied, ”radioactive materials and swirling energy huh?” It was a tad bit over his head except the use of light, “Interesting, I study light.” Evander raised his hand in a fist and focused his gift to create light inside of it. Gradually the light in his fist grew in intensity as rays found ways out of the palm from gaps in his fingers.

“And, fire.” He flipped his fist over, opened it up, and instead of blinding the light which most would have expected next, a short burst of fire flamed up and immediately dissolved into thin air leaving Ingrid looking at Evander’s eyes which were level with his palm. He chuckled, "Pretty boring stuff compared to what you are studying."

Evander leaned in again as he placed both his hands down on the top of the table, he asked curiously, ”Why are you studying hard to learn how to swirl energy and cause a reaction chain?”

“It’s the fundamental of what an Atomic spell called Infinity Loop, It allows for an unbelievable amount of energy all condensed in a small package. Being able to start it using a variety of methods is key,” Ingrid explained. “Their are a variety of ways to get to it but understanding it more in-depth means I can still perform under less than ideal conditions.” But that was enough of that. “What actually brings you to the library? If you're here just to read a bit of anything, I can teach you some of the core principles of Atomic, I know where most books are,” Ingrid offered.

Evander listened to Ingrid’s explanation of her studying Infinity Loop, ”studying how to pack a small box with a big punch…” he brought his right hand beneath his chin to cup it between his thumb and index finger, “...interesting.”

Why was he here? He answered, “To understand the relationship between Eskand and Avince.” Evander’s face became serious, ”But since you are here instead of a book, what do you think of this relationship, I’m curious.”

That was something that Ingrid didn’t see coming. Ingrid took a moment to think before speaking, "Well, Eskand just finished them off. They were falling and we gave the final push. And from that my home nation sprung up for a bit," Ingrid answered, unaware of Evander’s connection to Avince. Ingrid continued, "They were going to fall it was just a matter of who did it. It could have been anyone. But from their fall, many other nations rose up. For better, or for worse."

“But,” Ingrid paused, “Avince has stuck around in its own ways. The language we speak to each other is Avincian, the school still stands and you can see the roots of their nation throughout the continent. Even Eskand took parts of Avince.” Ingrid spoke her mind without much thought. It was obvious how massive the Avince empire was. It has been long gone and we still use its language. Architecture is still built with its principles in mind.

Evander tightened slightly at her comment about Eskand finishing Avince off, she was not wrong, but he did not like the comment either. Her closing statements made it confusing, was she admiring their legacy? He maintained his composure, “Your home sprang up?” Evander inquired, “Where in Eskand are you from?”

"Well, Eskand rose up and with that my family bettered themselves," Ingrid added for context. Ingrid stood up and looked around the library for a few moments before levitating a book over. Opening it she showed the southern coast of Eskand Ath, “Around here,” Ingrid pointed, "The land is full of trees and mountains from the dragonspire. It’s a beautiful place to me. Why do you ask?"

Evander watched as Ingrid flexed her gift a little before showing Evander her home, “I see.” He took his eyes from the book and brought them back to Ingrid’s after she asked him “why”. He answered softly, ”You don’t ever wonder where the hearts of your fellow classmates come from?”

"Sometimes," Ingrid answered. She leaned back, maintaining eye contact with him, and said, "I used to be more interested in their origins but realized that was only part of them. I just see their national identity to be another part of them.” Ingrid sighed as she added an addendum, "However I’m not so naive to ignore how others see nationality," Ingrid took some subtle looks around to see who might be listening in.

Evander nodded as if to agree with her, “Yes, it is only a part, and for some, it’s quite a big part, while for others it’s small.” He leaned back as she leaned back to give her space, “What about you, how do you see yourself as an Eskand?”

Ingrid thought again, these questions were making her think about what she should and shouldn’t say, "You know I can’t say. I love most parts of the culture. The people are much nicer than most think. But at the same time, the politics are tiring and some things are starting to regress for the worst." Ingrid sighed and looked towards Evander, "I’m sure you have things that you dislike about Revidia."

Evander nodded,”There are.” He thought of the Doge. A man he’d not dare call an enemy, but certainly no friend. A means to an end maybe. Evander asked one more question, ”How do you feel about Revidia?”

Ingrid's eye’s sharpened at Evander, but they softened as she shrugged, "I never had particular feelings towards them, maybe slightly positive as a trade partner." Ingrid tensed, "The Doge made the mistake of underestimating Eskand. And of his scheming, many people are going to die. At first, I hated Revidians,” Ingrid admitted, looking apologetically at Evander, "but that isn’t right. Most are just people trying to live like everyone else. It was the Doge that messed with that."

Evander sensed Ingrid’s instinct to hate Revidians. If he were being honest, he’d have been outraged if the Eskand had tossed their nation off the Five Thrones and replaced them with another. “What you say is true, I do not believe Revidians are to be blamed for the Doge’s actions, but as for people dying, both sides have a lot to atone for.” Evander lowered his head as if sad by the idea of violence, “What about you Ingrid? What are you looking for in this world?” He paused, “The Doge looks for power, King Rouis looks to maintain order, Eskand is fractured looking to reclaim its dignity, what is Ingrid looking for?” He repeated and emphasized once more.

"I wouldn’t say I’m looking for anything," Ingrid said. She closed the book on Eskand and flew it back to the shelf. Ingrid looked back at Evander, "I’m just trying to understand more things. Be able to speak to someone and understand their perspective and learn." Ingrid moved the book back in front of her, "But for that, I need to make money and learn other skills as well."

It struck him, Ingrid felt alone. There was no such thing as a person looking for nothing, someone was always searching for something. In her case, it was someone, and to understand their perspective. She was searching for words that would help her with understanding people. Evander nodded at her and stood up, “Well, you will not find the skills to speak to someone in that book, but you can find it in going for a walk outside of this library with me, are you interested?’

Evander stood up and reached out his hand like a gentleman. It was up to her to take it or not, but it was there as a gesture of respect.

An invitation for a walk is what she expected since the start and she had been ready to reject him outright. But surprisingly, Evander has been more enjoyable than she thought for a conversationalist. Her eyes seemed saddened, "I’ll have to decline, Evander. I truly need to study," Ingrid said before then flashing a smile, "But I would appreciate it if we could see each other at a later time." Ingrid hoped he would take her up on it.

Evander nodded, “Of course, continue focusing on what is important and you’ll reach your goal sooner rather than later.” He drew his hand back, bowed, and turned to go toward the Mythology and History section before exiting to head to the lake and read.

[YummyYummy]

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Velles 8th

^{Location: Ersand'Enise
Day of the week: Lepdes
Time: Post-Auction and Rewards
Characters: Ayla @Ti, Gina
Zarina, Riesco, Nibbler, Arlo}

With the chamber of greed long passed and the auction recently finalised, the students scattered about to finally get a breather from the tiring five days they had gone through. The rest was as rewarding as the prizes for quite a few, although many ended with nothing but the relief of liberation. For both Zarina’s and Ayla’s groups, however, they were greatly compensated for their efforts with the former walking out with a vacation at the Forked Tower, three big Eskandish cows and a literal diamond-shitter. What was there not to love?

“So, you’ve become quite the big, bad lion, eh?” a voice called out behind Ayla. It was Zarina, who was prepping Riesco for the return trip to the dormitories as he had been parked at the school before the beginning of the final trial. “Waiting for your time to strike, and taking your prey from behind. Never thought you’d be so ruthless.” she smirked as she turned her head while her hands went on auto-pilot while readying the saddle, “When I even sweetened the deal too!”

Ayla looked towards her as she tilted her head, her hands stroking Gina’s nose as the pony is busy nuzzling her muzzle within her long hair. “Offering to trade votes was my idea, that is true. It seemed Silas seized the opportunity to offer the deal to everyone without informing us.” she sighed out as it appeared Zarina was not the first to accuse her of foul play with the last minute shenanigans. “Don’t think anyone expected that outcome.” She fed Gina a delicious carrot from her hand, offering another one to Zarina to take. “Disappointed you didn’t come second, at least. You played a mean game out there.”

“So it’s Silas, huh?” Zarina’s lips parted slightly, showing her tongue pressing behind her left canine. The gears in her head were turning, a scheme was being formed and malice accumulated but controlled. “Doesn’t surprise me. I’m going to pay the shit a little visit.” she warned her friend whilst seizing the carrot to feed flat-handed to an eager Riesco, “I want those points. I’m getting them one way or another.” the horse was then dragged out of the pen and to the outside. The Virangish girl chuckles, “Even in our worst, we still rose to the top. No wonder we were the favourites~”

They started to pace through the city, making way for the dormitory area Merchants and Nobles more-or-less shared, “Well, now you’ve got a fancy cape and a sword. What’s the next step, kitty cat?” she hopped onto her steed after giving the beast a couple of neck-pats. It looked as though she was already convinced of whom the culprit was.

Ayla is somewhat fortunate that team Zemana had got ahead, especially as she has her lovely cloak, which would have not been an option otherwise. “My big ideas seemed destined to be unsuccessful during the trial, and often the plans were forgotten about. Can count on many blessings that we succeeded as well as we did.” She offered her friend on a warpath a smile, “Wish it were you, Kaspar, Yalen, and Jo… now that would have been an unstoppable team.” She sighed as she imagined the so-called wonder teams performance at the trial.

She strokes her hand along Gina’s neck similarly to those neck pats. The pair certainly looked like little and large upon the choice of horses. “The next step… that is a good question” a few ideas ran through her mind at such possibilities, though not fully able to share them all. “Would happily settle to have a long sleep… haven’t been able to rest at all during the trial. See these dark patches under my eyes?”, she gives a grin towards Zarina, though make-up is able to do wonders.

“Nope.” politely replied Zarina in a very performed lie. Even herself, the master of hiding her chronic insomnia, couldn’t hide just how much of a toll the event had taken on her, “I could use a bit of sitting on my ass, actually. Especially with the birds that are going to hatch.” she facepalms, “Fuck me, I’m going to be raising five monkeybird-babies. That’s like, three times a human child.”

Ayla grinned as she imagined Zarina as a mother, the picture was a very amusing one, as Zarina ended up as more the father role, whilst Kaspar was the… she blushed and looked down, perhaps he did deserve one of his tall girls after all, they have both most likely grown closer during the trials, much like the rumours spread about Jo and Yalen. “Do you suppose your motherly instincts will kick in when they hatch?”, she coo’d a tease toward her.

“Eh?” Zarina squinted over at Ayla who matched her horse’s pace with Riesco, “That’s such a fucking weird thing to say.” she turned to look forward, perplexed over the notion Ayla had just shared, “Now you’re making me imagine it. Babying them a-” and right on cue, Nibbler emerged from her bag after having taken a small nap and sat on her shoulder, “There he is, the little naughty bugger!” she reached out to seize the creature. It looked at her with the most innocent, beady eyes imaginable, pacifying her night instantly, “Awwwh. Who’s the cute little heroic Nibble, hmm?” and now he was cradled in her arms with little scritches given to his exposed tummy. His little paws opened when her hand was off, and closed on her hand when she went for the belly rubs.

Ayla could only smile sweetly as the dormouse was now tucked up within Zarina’s arms and cradled like a baby. She guides Gina closer as she takes a closer look at the cute creature, “Looked like they have awoken already~”, she reached forward towards Nibbler as she waggled her fingers to him in a hearty hello. “You have definitely taken lost animals under your wing this last week, from blueberry dragons, this cutie, those moo’s…”

Nibbler playfully reached out to Ayla’s hand, although his limbs were much too small to get anything, and his position kept him from rising, “Bad little boy snuck into my bag when I went to Greed. Tsk.” despite the scolding she couldn’t stop herself from petting the creature. He was clearly very content. “Yeah, uhm, I might have a problem.” she awkwardly tittered, scratching the back of her head, “Don’t have anybody telling me NO to all these cuties and awesome lads.” she sighed, “Then again, most of these poor things would’ve died. And I’m not one to stay on the sidelines for long, even toward Oraff.” Nibbler’s floofy tail rose up to her belly as he adopted the legendary sleeping position of the dormouse. Looks like he really was tired.

Ayla smiled as she watched it get off to sleep, continuing to ride upon Gina at that gentle pace. “Not been so innocent as well, brought back a puff lion cub back from Revidia with me from the Doge’s personal zoo. He does have an almighty roar. Named him Asier, after my great ancestor.” she ponders a moment as she considers the geography, “Who may have ridden through here 800 years ago. He most likely rode a lion through these very streets, adorning shining metal armour like that Thierry of yours.” she mused as she directs the topic into girl talk.

Zarina snorted, “On a lion? With armour and everything? You know that’s not possible, right?” she raised a brow and then rolled her eyes, “Haven’t heard from the guy, actually. Nor have I seen him, as a Century.” she replied, looking somewhat dejected by the remark she had made, “Anyway, a Lion’s a bit complicated to raise. Gonna keep it in your home as some big house cat?” she asked as Nibbler was slowly but surely tucked closer to her chest while one hand got back to Riesco’s reins.

Ayla frowned at the remark, “There are paintings. He saved Relouse by burning the Eskandish fleet. Angry at what they had done, he travelled to their capital, Meldheim, rescued the fruit of Oraff as the Eskandish burnt down their own city in trying to stop him. They formed together another large army, then at Solenne…” she could tell Zarina was not interested in a history lesson, “He was a brave man. The Perrench tried to write him out of their history books, saying it was a myth. Clearly they had not seen the fruit trees that sprung from those seeds, for they would know it to be true.” She rode quiet for a moment before she addressed the other question, “They don’t grow as large as the Arslanian Lion, so should be okay to keep as a house pet if given plenty of opportunities to roam.”

Zarina was indeed only half-interested in the historical feats of a long dead man. A lot of history was exaggerated, after all, and she had yet to see a feline rider. Ever. “Prenchies do be like that, I agree.” she conceded, as they entered an alley shortcut while nearing the dorm area, “There was a big orange tree in the middle of ass-nowhere in the desert. If it wasn’t the big, special tree seeds, you certainly had strong contenders for the best.”

They neared the Merchant dorms, where a blue reptile hovered over both of them, only to land onto Zazzy’s shoulder. It was Arlo, and by Zarina’s petting and lack of reaction, this appeared to be a common experience, “So. What about that Mantolien guy. Been talking to him?”

Ayla shook her head at the question, “Things tend to be one-sided in our conversations as he talks at you, not with you. He is currently writing a treatise on Nikan and has been updating me on how that is doing.” she sighed out, “Imagine this is more of a ploy by my father than a serious betrothal, he is most likely after something he feels only Alexandre can get for him. If he was serious, he would be offering him Maria” she curls a finger around her the curls in her hair, “The family runt is only good for her name”.

Zarina raised a brow, “Family runt?” then a moment was taken to perform an exaggerated ‘check out’ of Ayla on Gina, “The little tart that won the Trials is the runt of the Arslans?” an exacerbated cocking of both of brows followed, “Don’t be too much of a victim, Ayla. You’ve got way more going than most people do.” a little neigh escaped Riesco, prompting Arlo to briefly take off, and land onto Ayla’s shoulder next.

“What do you think he actually wants- your dad, I mean?” Zarina leaned forward over her horse’s mane as she continued the talks, just as they were nearing her stables.

Ayla raised an eyebrow as she looks up at Zarina as the girl and her horse towers above her and Gina, being the runt is an obvious statement of fact. “It has been rather liberating out here, and been to more places within the last week than in my entire life.” Her fingers reached up to pet upon Arlo as he landed upon her shoulders, stroking along his bearded neck, and reaching around to scratch the back of his head.

As the topic drifts toward her father, she only offered a shrug of her shoulder. “He is after someone or something, given Alexandre is a scholar with knowledge of Callanast continent, it must be a legendary artefact of some kind, perhaps a tool he can use against Casa Frannemas, or his goal is on the continent itself.”

“Uh-huh.” Zarina listened attentively, but her response put distance between her and the subject, feigning disinterest. Arlo flew back up and hovered over the two after Ayla’s impromptu shrug, “So, do you intend to go along with it, or are you gonna show off these Arslan fangs?” she chuckled and hopped off her steed to open the gate into the stables, “Wanna park Gina with Riesco tonight? I’m sure it’ll make them both happy.” she suggested as she gestured toward the entrance, keeping her own horse back for now.

Ayla brought Gina into the stables before she dismounted from her, and spoiled the pony with warm affection as she nuzzled upon her neck. “Five years to consider, and besides, he may decide to elope with one of those Virangish Striped Manatee he spoke so fondly of during our betrothal.” she bared those Arslanian fangs towards Zarina with her mischievous smile. She moves under the cover of the thatched roof as she goes towards the bag seated upon the saddle to bring out the horse brush, to use it lovingly upon the creature.

Zarina tended to her own horse now that he was parked and sticking his head out expectantly. As was routine, she offered him a carrot to indulge in, caressing his cheek simultaneously as he nibbled rather than swallowed up. Then, she snorted, “He did love those dugongs, didn’t he?” a complicit smirk was returned to the Torragonese, “By the way.” she chimed with a higher pitch, “That Coldfire class I sold to Dory, I’d like you to join.”

Ayla considered the proposal with superficially, “That is Alizée’s magic. Da would pay a lot for that book.” she sighed for a moment as she thought deeper, she wrestled with the thoughts in her mind. The silence lingers for a moment as she puts down the brush as she approached the other girl. “The truth is… the last time we used fire, people were hurt.” her face distorts as she recalls the memories of the event in her mind, even that of her recent night terrors. The sound, the sight, that smell. “They were hurt, Zazzy… I hurt them.. She approached as she moved her arms to hold upon her friend. “We don’t want to hurt you.”.

Zarina flinched, arms opened from the surprise. It took her a moment, but she eventually coiled them around Ayla’s frame. Her hands reached over the cub’s mane as she pushed against the smaller critter’s back to tighten the embrace, “You won’t hurt me, kitty cat.” she cooed over Ayla’s head, chin rested upon her scalp, “I’m indestructible, after all.” a back rub was warranted, and she’d keep her friend there for a while, until Gina went on to nip Ayla’s wavy top and tugged on it a little.

“One thinks Gina is getting jealous now” She laughed softly as she wiped her tears. “One needs to confront her. Alizée. Will you help me?” she looked up towards the Virangish girl expectantly.

Zarina paused, arching back a little to properly peer down at her distressed friend, “I’d love to help, kitty cat.” she forced a confident smile, “How can I help take down your bitch of a great-great-gran?”

Ayla smiled playfully in response, “You shouldn’t say that so lightly about a so-called Grand Demon. Especially when you are playing around with their magic”. She feels Gina’s head nuzzling it between them as she stepped back to allow it to come in. Her hands move to stroke upon the pony, giving it an ear rub. “Thanks. We will attend your class. If you will have us both.” she playfully references to Gina who is now moving her nose into Zarina’s pockets in the sure for food.

As luck would have it, there was a spare carrot by the sack she had carefully stored Nibbler in after the dismount. The dry but still tasty veggie was fed to the pony, prompting many crunches and a jealous Riesco flapping his lips as she outstretched his head to get a bite, “Nuh-huh, you’ve gotten enough, bud.” she gave a couple of pats to his snout and he eventually conceded, “Alright, I’ll see all three of you soon, then? Like … A few days. I’ll tell ya’.”

Ayla giggled gently as her friend was overrun by all her animals. “Sounds like a time and date. Look forward to spending it with you.” She moved towards the building after putting Gina away for the night, waiting for Zarina to finish to return to her place. “Next time, we’ll introduce you to Asier, and no, you cannot take him home with you.”

[Ti]

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Characters: Ayla x Evander @RezonanceV
Location: Ersand’Enise, Arboretum, Lake
Time: Dusk

Ayla came to a rest as she put away her flute and released a soft sigh. She often took a moment to admire the peaceful beauty of the well-maintained gardens of the arboretum. As she was about to depart, she glanced over to notice the boy reading a book, recognizing him from class and from that moment during the trials. She moved over towards Evander to introduce herself, “Do you like to swot books when you are not running off with other people's fresh produce?” she offered him a playful smile, “If you were hungry, we could have shared the melon together”

Evander carefully thumbed a page in one of three books. The one in his hand was titled, “Black Devil Rising” in Avincian language. The other two stacked by his hip next to the base of the tree were “Iron Shapes Our Future By Cutting History”, and “Reshta’s Famous.” He was studying three different questions. The first was to give him insight into what was needed to bond and raise a Black Devil. The second provided an analysis of Ironshaper’s impact on the fall of Avince to his influence over time leading up to the Eskand-Revidian relationship. The third was about Yasoi beliefs, specifically about a theory of Reshta being the reincarnation of a Yasoi goddess named, Vyshta. A name that caught his eye while scanning the library because of the list he found in the statue of Iona on his desk.

He looked up as if a little annoyed at being disrupted. Yet this point of tension was relieved as he crossed his gaze with the lovely Ayla. A young woman from Torragon, House of Arslan, a notable noble who lived in a place aligned with Revidian politics. Her family was strong, drenched in warriors, and rooted in history. Evander once heard his father speak of a man named Asier from when Eskand enflamed the countryside of Parrence about 800 years ago. His father talked of him in high regard and highlighted that if he ever ran across Torragonese men and women - to show them the utmost respect for their courageous spirit, “You never want to step on a lion’s tail.” He was always reminded after hearing of Asier’s legacy.

Evander cracked a smile back, “An invitation?” His eyes crested like a waning moon turned on its side. He folded the page he was on to save his place, stacking it back on top of the other three, and then moved all of them to the otherside from where Ayla was standing, “I am thirsty; maybe we could share this instead as a token of my apology?” Evander pulled out a fancy globe jar with Ellermane Blue. Patting the ground next to him to invite her by his side.

Ayla curiously eyes the globe as she moves down to occupy the space previously filled by the books next to Evander. One did wonder if you were a wine connoisseur, secretly Perrench, or you were not paying for the wine. One has her answer." she smiled as she waited for the wine to be poured before accepting it as she eyed him curiously with the suspected answer.

"This one is perspective, and able to tell a read a lot into a person… she stroked her fingers upon the books as she glanced upon the different titles, a playful smile appeared upon her lips. "Your goal is to have lady luck look upon you with fortune as you raise your Black Devil strong and then be able to enact a thousand-year revenge on Eskand for the glory of the Empire?" her tone continued as a friendly tease.

Ayla sat down, expecting a cup. Lucky for her, Evander had brought one for himself. He handed it over to her and smoothly poured the Ellermane inside. With a left hook of humor, Ayla punched Evander in the cheek where it tickled, and he burst out laughing at her string of logical conclusions about the titles of his books. He twisted his head to the side in case he spat up any wine but reverted to choking on some instead.

“Wise you are!” Evander enthusiastically replied as he gained some composure from his sudden burst. He zeroed in on her knowledge of Vyshta as the lady of fortune, a key point made in the book about Reshta, “I’m curious Princess, what do you know about lady luck?”

Ayla smiled even wider at the question, an answer she already knew. "You are in luck, she may still be amongst us now. Tyrel of Vyshta's favoured is the Goddess reborn. Yasoi girl from Tarlon, one leg, surrounded by bad luck." She moved her hand to tap upon the book cover, "You might get more from the horse's mouth than from the book.". She drank from the cup as she proceeded to solve his other problem too. "As Eskand is currently divided, my Prince, perfect time to enact your revenge." With a playful tinkle in her eye, she noticed the unmistakable sight of Ingrid in the distance. "Wouldn't start a fight with that one, though. She will probably seat you suddenly upon your princely behind."

Evander listened closely to Ayla’s wisdom about Tyrel, Ingrid, and Eskand. He turned his head to face Ayla, “There is no revenge plot looming in my mind, it is no secret that as a Revidian my loyalty lies with Revidia, which has asserted its stance against Eskand, and I do see them as lost sheep in a large field, but, my real priority is Perrence. As a Torragonese, you already know this fact.” He looked at the book, then Ingrid in the distance, ”I hope that if I can better understand Eskand, they can be useful against Revidia’s imminent threats; that woman might be the key.”

He could feel the relaxing effects of the Ellermane take a subtle hold over his senses. Leaning back against the large, old tree. He traced the tree’s branches with his eyes as each stretched wide. The trunk was thick and gnarled, with deep roots anchored in the ground with some creeping above to provide natural spots to sit, lean, or walk on. He followed the roots to the grass as a gentle breeze rustled the tree leaves and grass below. The water was calm and still. Reflected above was a crystal clear sky. The evening birds began to turn their chirps into whispers, and the traffic across the lake near the road started to dissolve.

As Evander contemplated the peaceful and serene scene in front of him, he wondered, what was Ayla’s motivation for being at Ersand’Enise? She was a Noble, Torragonese, and she chose to engage him in conversation, not to mention her immediate thoughts were to help Evander. What was she looking to gain from this? He paused his mind and followed his thinking by asking a sincere question to cut to the heart of his queries.

“Ayla, playfulness aside, what do you dream about?” Evander was curious about her dreams, for he realized his dreams were never his own; they were only ever intertwined with that of his ancestors. He accepted this truth, but what about Ayla? As a Noble, did she have dreams of her own?

Ayla mulled the comments as she casually relaxed, swirling the glass within her hand as she sipped gently upon the wine. "Playfully aside, as your faithful ally, we wish to inform you that the Doge overstepped, putting us all closer to a war we won’t win.” Her eyes fix upon Evander’s own as she examines him with scrutiny, appearing to read for his expressions for a moment before softening to a smile. "Imagine the look on the Doge Prospero’s face if King Sancho said that to him. Would be worth painting a portrait of.”

She moves her hands back as she loosens her hair ties, allowing the curly long hair to drop and rest against her back, coming along the side like a carpet rolled out before royalty. Ayla curls up within her seated position as she instinctively looked upwards upon the discussion of dreams, "Ipte tends to bless me fortunately with dreams, recently not as much, though imagine it is not these you were interested in.” She brings the cup towards her mouth as she drank more deeply from it. "My dream sounds simple, a flight of fancy… but one wishes to change the world with a song. My wish is to move people deeply, to reach their core, their essence, in order to change the world and make it a better place. Might have succeeded during the trials, but your Reshta had other ideas. Not going to give up so easily, however,” finishing her statement with a wink. "Now what does a Prince of Revidia dream?”

Evander continued to gaze at the lake as she spoke the truth about the Doge’s recent actions. The Doge further irritated his enemies and stressed his allies. Enemies were scheming, and allies may be waning. He brought the globe jar to his lips, sipping the sweetness before checking Ayla’s cup. Without asking, he topped her cup off and sipped again from the globe jar. Except his eyes did not fully return to the lake. Ayla’s charm caught his deep blues as she let down her hair. Followed by her dream of changing the world with a song. Evander replied, “Who thought Torragonese could be poets, and Arslan’s would make a bird instead of a lion.” He winked back at her. Her question eluded him, Revidia is not my kingdom, he thought. He did not see himself as a Prince of Revidia, no. He was heir to Avince.

“My dream Princess? Similar to yours. You speak of changing it with a song, to deeply move your people.” He closed his eyes, nodded, and softly raised his eyelids to greet her kindly, “admirable, endearing, and noble, truly the best dream for a just Queen.” He acknowledged, praised her, and finally answered her question, “My dream? To protect the world from burning to the ground,” He paused to let the claim weigh in the air between them, “I agree with you, the Doge made an error, and the Central Alliance feels stressed because of it, however, regardless of the Doge’s mishap in judgment, I think there is something else that is coming.” He reached out to hold Ayla’s free hand, “something our nations will not be ready for, something bigger than a war between Parrence and Revidia, something….” His other hand came beneath the one he was holding to cup Ayla’s, “you and I will need to prepare for if we are to make sure our families and our interests don’t burn, and your song is heard.”

Ayla feels her eyes widen in response to his hands cupping her own, the corners of her mouth spreading into a warm smile. “Now this is that fabled Revidian silver-tongue.” she moved her hand to join his in return, as she cups upon them, listening to his words with a light blush upon her cheeks. “Truly, the only way would be for our houses to unite as one. If only one was not betrothed to another, we may be brought together.” She could not resist the urge to act brazen towards his advances, though the blush betrayed her true self.

On the topic alluded to, she responded with a more attentive manner. “You are referring to the Traveller?” She paused for a moment for confirmation. “The Traveller… is not wrong. That is what makes their teachings taste foul to our senses, however, they are far from the cure. Those with power should use it responsibly, and those who do not, cause the growing discontent as they see themselves above all moral responsibly.” She gauges Evander’s response to this radical statement, “They are right in only that something needs to change; however, to cut off the nose to spite your face is not the solution. We don’t need more violence; what we need is more love and compassion to truly make a difference.” She leaned closer to Evander, her face invading his personal space in that teasing and tantalizing manner as she held his hands within her own. She whispered softly towards him, “What does my Prince think of his noble Queen now?”

Evander was surprised at the Torragon’s knowledge of the Traveler, she is not wrong. But Ayla’s natural inclination to advance on him was the real blindside. He was attempting to emphasize the gravity of their partnership in the coming times. Ayla seemed to grasp an entirely different affection. Did she just propose to him? Taken back, he remained calm. He did not want to seem as if he was rejecting the Princess. Calmly, he reminded her of her situation, “Ayla you are sworn to someone else; what does that mean to you?”

Ayla blinked at the response, then giggled with a soft laugh. “It seems the rumours about your character are a true injustice. We are pleased by this development.” She pulled back from him and she removed her hands from his as they moved to finish the cup of its wine. She held upon the empty cup as she looked down and smiled sadly, “Every girl grows up dreaming of marrying for love, though that is not the world we live in. Some are fortunate in that they find love with who they are chosen to be with, like Queen Eleanor of Oriflamme fame. Perhaps Ipte will bless me with such fortune.”
Evander remained silent for a few seconds as he let her statement hang in the air. Her intelligence, sincerity, and courage were all things he found attracting him. Of course, her natural beauty was obvious to anyone who caught her at a glance or a staring contest. Love… Evander asked, “How would you know if you found it?” Before she could answer, he added, “Betrothed, what would you do if you did find it?”

Ayla gently looked towards him, “Given how my betrothed spent the majority of his betrothal speech admiring the characteristics of the Virangish Striped Manatee, don’t think we would be finding out the answer to that question.” She turned to humour to respond to that question as she stroked a hand through her hair with a coy smile, declining to further answer what he may have been truly asking. “What about you, my Prince. Will you marry a girl for her status and station? Perhaps even Doge Prospero’s daughter, the newly crowned Empress Namiri of Belzagg, or would you feel led by your heart when it comes to selecting the one you desire”

Odd, the more this Tourrare spoke, the more interested he became. Then she mentioned the “Virangish Striped Manatee”, Evander laughed and recoiled, “My apologies, I did not mean to laugh at your arrangement. I understand where you are; it is a precarious promise you had no say in, and the man you are sworn to fails to recognize even your worth as a Torragonese noble, except through contract.” He paused, awful waste. Followed by his answer, “Maybe both, perhaps if the Pentad favors me, a woman of status and station who also leads my heart.” He smiled, looking into Ayla’s eyes, sympathizing with her unfortunate situation.

“My, aren’t we the optimist. Perhaps when my betrothed chooses a fish over me, we may be so fortunate to find one another again.” Ayla responded as a tease to the flirtatious Revidian, then her face dropped a moment “Please don’t tell him that we called it a fish…” gave a playful look of disgust as recalls having already been corrected upon that statement.

She moves to place the wine cup next to Evander, as she moved to lift herself back up again, “Too much of this 300 Magi wine.” She cupped upon his hand as she wished him farewell. “Do me a favour and tell Jocasta and Yalen that their company is missed”

Evander listened to the pain that struck through her comments about her betrothed. There was a tug at Evander within to pull her back into the conversation, Am I enjoying her? He refrained from saying anything as she pulled herself up, “Sure…” as she turned, he instinctively reached out for her hand but clumsily stroked her back leg as she stepped forward to leave. Ayla turned around, Evander asked, “...say, you know a good deal of what I am studying, and Torragon and Revidia would do well if we better understood our situations here in Ersand’Enise. Would you like to meet here, same time next week?”

She was caught off-guard as she felt the hand rub stroke against of her leg, glancing down towards him in surprise but also curious manner. ”If one is available, follow the sound of the flute.” Ayla smiled toward him as she gave a light curtsey, moving away once again.

Evander leaned back against the large, old tree. The sun finally kissed below the horizon. What a pleasant surprise… hope to see you soon again, Ayla Arslan. He thought as his interaction with Ayla was surprisingly enjoying and enlightening to his situation. It’ll be wise to keep her close. He placed the “Black Devil Rising” on his lap and grew light in the palm of his hand to illuminate the pages to read, Upon the hatching of a Black Devil, the infant needs to feel two things, it’s nurturer and it’s home. Evander lifted his head off the page to look at the now moonlit sparkling lake, ”Home.”

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[Force and Fury]

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Part One_________ __ __ _ _

Did people’s true colours finally come to light when they stepped into the Chamber of Greed, or was it afterwards, during Right or Spite?

Every single prize was claimed, even the hidden ones. At least a few of the youths were clever. The remainder were either strong or found themselves flattened as their fought tooth and nail over the chamber’s treasures. In the end, it was the teams of Zenos Fades-in-Moonlight and Zander Mozaru who came away with most of the treasures, greatly enriching themselves, but it was their counterparts in Sectoxomactex’s and Luria Colloy’s apprentice groups who contested first position, with the former winning out. Oh, how alliances were made and tested, friendships strengthened or ruined, and schemes put into play.

The result was a razor-thin finish between the top seven teams, all out of Ersand’Enise, and doing the academy proud by asserting its superiority over its lesser peers. The prize appeared to be the Heartstoppers, much to Sectoxomactex’s delight, for he had boldly predicted just such an outcome beforehand. Yet, here it was the trickery of one student - the powergazer Silas Reiger - that pulled off the greatest heist that The Trials had seen in a century. Spinning a web of promises, guilt, and incentives, he persuaded four separate teams to trade votes with his in their entirety, honouring precisely none of these agreements. In the end, Zeno Hamir Zemana’s group leapfrogged all of the others from a dubious sixth into first place. You should have seen how they scrambled over each other, stepped on their fellow students' dreams, and pushed aside their better natures in the name of profit. Perhaps, in some sense, they had never truly left the Chamber of Greed.

Final Standings and Chamber of Greed Results

Please find the final standings for The Trials here.
Please find the results of Chamber of Greed here.
Please find the final results of our Prize Selection here.

Yet, there were other matters of great and - in truth - greater import afoot. Some arrived grandly, others simply, and a few even meekly, but the delegations and leaders of nations appeared in Ersand’Enise for the conclusion of The Trials. In truth, they stood on the city state’s neutral ground in the hope of averting (or perhaps igniting) a war.

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The Sage and the Scoundrel_________ __ __ _ _

“Brother, I’m going to have to appear for the both of us, aren’t I?”

The Sage did not move. He continued to sit, cross-legged, meditating.

“Ah, so I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’ then.”

The Sage did not move. There remained no answer.

The Scoundrel decided to take drastic measures. With the speed of a striking serpent, he reached out to slap the top of his brother’s bald head. “Why do you insist on asking if you know the answer?” replied the Sage, catching the Scoundrel’s hand. The latter blinked. After a moment, he chuckled in soft amusement and shrugged, sitting down with an almost childlike ease beside his brother. “I dunno,” he admitted. “Call it a silly little thing like hope.” He rolled his eyes. “Maybe someday you won’t be a total bore.”

“Maybe someday, you will be wise.”

The Scoundrel burst out laughing.

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President Atundo Yibozo_________ __ __ _ _

The heat of Yabusa was already stifling this time of year. The rainy season was coming to an end, but much of its humidity lingered, increasingly supplanted by the dry scorching heat rolling in from the sahel. President Yibozo was in his study, busily packing a luggage full of items he might need during his stay in Ersand’Enise while swatting halfheartedly at the flies that had come in through an opened window. He supposed it would be a brief stay and he was glad of it. The city of magicians hung like a sword on a string above the heads of nations, his most especially.

With little ceremony, he threw on his jacket - an unbearable garment in this heat, or even that of the southern city, but a necessary one. The kings and queens, relics that they were, had normalized a particular dress code. If he would not adhere to it, Atundo could not entirely flout it either. As with all things in this new democratic government, it was a matter of careful balance, and it was tiring. How the weevils had come out of the woodwork since his election! How they had offered him crowns of many sorts.

Deciding that he was finished, the President stepped outside, closing the door behind himself, luggage hanging from his wrist as he finished buttoning his overcoat. He took a deep breath, brushed himself off, and headed down the Long Hall, servants - civil or otherwise - nodding deferentially his way. He had never trusted portals, but he was to arrive by one, like a king would - only, Atundo Yibozo was no king.

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Empress Namiri I of Belzagg_________ __ __ _ _

“I shall be wearing black.”

“But, your radiance, the official mourning period is at an end. Perhaps, if I may recommend, it might do to display the erm… full majesty of Belzagg through other choices?”

Namiri’s chin was held high, as she had been taught since childhood, and she turned with measured grace to glance her lady-in-waiting’s way. “I understand, Megola. Nonetheless, I shall be wearing black.”

The four ladies attending her glanced among themselves uneasily. “Some say it would not do for Belzagg to remain too long in mourning, your radiance. It may send the message that -”

Namiri whirled on the speaker. It was Lady Kali - that plaything of the Kikusi. “Who says, Lady Kali, or are you too craven to take ownership of your own thoughts?” The empress spun on the spot and how they backed away, bowing profusely and joining their hands before their foreheads in gestures of atonement. “Need We remind you what happened the last time that a monarch of Belzagg ventured south to the City of the Bells? Need We remind you how they stood aside and let Jobanzaggah, our noble father, be butchered like a common thief!” She hid the trembling of her lip. She drew away the moisture in her eyes and the desire within her to hold someone. An empress must not show weakness. She whirled again to face the mirror, chin held high, gaze dispassionate down the bridge of her nose. “No, We shall make them feel what they deserve to feel for their transgressions against us. They shall be made to remember.”

Ekra was the first to come forward. She bowed respectfully, hands knitted before her. “Then I shall dress your radiance in black.”

Namiri smiled. “Thank you -” my friend “Ekra, and we shall dress most provocatively, I think.”

One of the older ladies pointedly hid a scowl. Sometimes, it was amusing to purposely ignore their subtle gestures until they were forced to either concede or lay bare their intent but, in this case, the empress decided to indulge Lady Jesaan. “I am under no illusions, my valued coterie, so steel yourselves against them as well: I am young, I am a woman, and I have not yet sat the Ivory Throne for but a month.” She began to peel out of her dress and they rushed to help her. “They shall attempt to seat me at the children’s table. They shall attempt to seat Belzagg there, else they will look to fill my impressionable young mind with their self-serving notions.”

The garment slid off of her and she stood, nearly naked, before the mirror. “We shall not entertain these.” Imperiously, she held a hand out for the appropriate dress. Each of her ladies approached holding one. “No,” she dismissed one. “No, no, yes… no. Lady Ekra, step forward.” She plucked it from her childhood friend’s hands. “The rest of you may leave. Lady Ekra, you may remain and assist me. You have pleased me this day.” Bowing respectfully, they departed, and the two youths were left in each other’s company. “Your radiance, if I may be so bold…”

Namiri blinked. Sometimes it was still strange to hear Ekra speak this way. Sometimes, she mourned it. “Of course, my friend.” She could say ‘friend’, at least, without the others listening. Ekra smiled demurely, as was her way, but then her expression settled. “They do not deserve to gaze upon your radiance.” She shook her head tightly. “Those lecherous old men.” Namiri could see the muscles in her jaw clenching.

“I… appreciate your concern,” the empress indulged, “but that is precisely why I shall do it. If I am to be in mourning, it shall not be the meek mourning of a thing that hides beneath thick shrouds of darkness, but the accusation of a lioness.”

Ekra stopped herself from raising an eyebrow, and it was not a pointed action. Namiri cracked a slight grin. “Too much?”

“You speak ever so grandly these days, you know.”

“We are Belzagg.” The newly crowned empress shrugged. She smiled tightly. “And more than one mere girl, I fear.”

“Nami…”

Namiri shot her a warning look. “It is ‘Namiri’ now, when we are alone like this, or else ‘your radiance’.”

“Yes, your radiance.”

The empress shot her friend a small, appreciative smile - almost an apology, for she could no longer offer those - waiting for her to continue.

“I… accept that matters between us must be different now,” Ekra advised, “but you don’t have to do this alone. A forest stands stronger against the wind than a lone tree, even a great one.”

How they had embraced each other when the news of her father’s death had arrived. How Ekra had been there, soothing her: an absolute rock, calm and steady amid the tempest that had been those days of uncertainty. Namiri embraced her in spirit now. “Then I accept your offer, Lady Ekra, wholeheartedly.” She smiled. “Now, let us figure out how to turn some heads. I shall see where the eyes of these old men find themselves and just what I can learn of them as a result.”

Namiri was young, and not unattractive. They could both lust after her and learn to fear and respect her. The more potent the mix of emotions that she engendered, the less control they would have and, consequently, the more that she would. “A ruler holds the leashes of her friends and rivals alike. She holds the leashes of everyone as if they are beasts that might attack both her and each other. This is why one alone is not enough. It stops them from pulling in one direction, but does nothing against others.” Those had been her father’s words to her upon her fifteenth birthday. “When it is your turn to sit the Ivory Throne, you must remember this: hold many leashes over the strongest beasts, and then they will hold the others.”

It was early in the hours of Ishun and the cavernous expanse of the Radiant Hall was thick with incense and the sounds of tambourines, flutes, and drums. Various courtiers, nobles, and servants stood about in their hastily-dressed finest, busy rubbing sleep from their eyes and conversing in whispers and murmurs. Then, there was a clank, and the colossal doors at one end of the great chamber opened. “Namiri, first of her name,” thundered the crier, “Queen of the Zangyewo, Warden of the Ivory Throne, Mistress of Sedge and Bee, and Empress regnant of Belzagg!” They blinked and covered their eyes as she emerged from the rising sun, a growing spot of utter contrast amid the brilliant rays.

The young ruler wore a loose black dress with golden clasps, accents, and collar. Slit high up on each thigh, it deferred to her in every movement, gathered about her waist, and bared the entirety of her back. Namiri did not so much walk as she glided, head held high, hair carefully braided into a great circular halo that framed her young and noble face. She paused before the raised dais where the Ivory Throne lay and turned to face her court. “We shall not be seated today,” she announced. “My trusted advisor, Kejammah of Ikon, shall act in our stead. Let none doubt his authority.”

They bowed and raised their hands to their foreheads in acceptance of her decree. She lifted her right hand and the third and fourth fingers on it and they rose. Behind her came a surge of Temporal energy. From the courtiers emerged twenty escorts, chosen for their power with the Gift and their loyalty. The empress turned and now stood before the swirling nothingness of a portal. The escorts preceded her and Namiri followed, five more bringing up the rear behind her. Then, she stood beneath a large gazebo. A great green lawn stretched about the empress and her retinue and, beyond it, the school she had so desperately wanted to attend before circumstance had decreed otherwise.

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Rouis XI_________ __ __ _ _

“Oh no,” proclaimed the king, “I shall not be attending their little desperation meeting. I am Perrence and Perrence does not stoop. Let them scramble.” He grinned smugly, skewering a slice of his eggplant with the tip of his knife and shoving it into his mouth.

“But… father, you shall be in the city,” protested one of his sons - one of the lesser ones. Rouis had half a mind to correct him - it’s ‘your majesty’ - but he did not. Sometimes, one needed to indulge even his less preferred children. “I shall be in the city, Charles,” replied the king, swallowing, “in an unofficial capacity. None shall know of my presence but those who need to. I shall send Arcel in my stead. It is known as a calculated insult.” He gestured with his knife. “You’d do well to learn.”

The boy stood and bowed tightly at the waist. “I shall endeavour to do so.” This one was not made of kingly stuff and, unlike his father, was unlikely to learn it. Rouis at the same age would’ve challenged his father or grandfather immediately as to the reasons for such a slight and as to the nature of their business. A king does not ask, he demands and - if he is any true king whatsoever - his demands are met. “Good man,” the elder Perrenchman replied, “now begone and let me eat my meal in peace.”

“As you wish, your majesty.” How submissive they all were. How it tore him up inside.

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Sancho de Torragòn_________ __ __ _ _

A king paced before his guardsmen, hands clasped at the small of his back, the plumes on his wide-brimmed hat fluttering in the stiff breeze of Torragòn. “We do not come as conquerors this time, but a show of force is still required, to remind them who we are.” He paused, pivoting crisply on his heel and starting back the way he had come. He looked up to address the four hundred. “I do not trust our enemies to play with honour. I trust some of our allies even less, but we must appear to trust them, so we enter through the front gate but have a plan to leave through the rear on a moment’s notice. If they wish to fight, then they will fight, but Torragòn will make its own terms.”

King Sancho’s personal guard, standing beside their horses, saluted. Their monarch nodded. He made the Sign of the Pentad and they followed. “Now,” he announced, coming to a stop beside Vencedor, his great black warhorse, “that is all I have to say, so we go!” In a single, smooth motion, he swung himself into the saddle, hitched up his gloves, and took the reins. “¡Adelante, a la boca del dragón!”

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Prospero Malatesta_________ __ __ _ _

A king stepped onto the dock. He did not call himself a king, though he was, and he did not arrive by portal, though he could have. Perhaps it was a way to remind people how very close to Ersand’Enise Revidia and its capital were. Perhaps it was to demonstrate that he was not some distant monarch, but merely a man, same as any other. Regardless of its intent, it was most certainly planned. Everything was planned with Prospero Malatesta.

What was not, however, were the signs and papers plastered about Mudville and the port: pinned to wooden posts, walls, and noticeboards, they pegged him for a war criminal, a greedy and grasping robber baron, and a lying despot. His guard attempted to take the offending pamphlets down in his presence, but the doge forestalled these efforts. Calmly, he walked up to one, plucked it from its place, and examined it, letting out an amused snort. He folded it and stuffed it into a pocket. “It appears they’ve debunked me, Rodrigo.” He smiled tightly and was on his way. Out, beyond the harbour, where gulls bleated and wheeled under the morning sun, anchored two dozen ships of the Illustre Marina della Confederazione di Revidia.

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Part Two Arriving Tomorrow!_________ __ __ _ _

[Echotech71]

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Location:Ersand'Enise. Niallus's dorm room.

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The night after the auction, the trails had finally come to a close. Niallus had a lot of fun and effort, his team came second, so that's something at least. Niallus woke up, finding his head held up by one of his hands, his whole body leaning into one side of his seat. A candle on his desk, partly lights up the room with a cool warm glow. There was no sound from the whole room, which was refreshing.

[color=3d5a88]"I wonder when I fell asleep,"and looking around the room, trying to gather his senses. Satisfied he stands up, feeling a little stiff, so he stretches. Once done he looks over to his desk. On it are the item's that he bought from the auction. The Ancient Great Neskal, "The Mother '' iteration and a Schluckodil egg. Niallus lets out a heavy sigh,
"I wish I managed to get that ticket to the La Vita Rossa. It would have made a great wedding gift for my friend. Then again," looking at the Schluckodil egg, ''from what my mother said, Ragnar's wife loves Schluckodils. Plus it'll give them practice for when they decide to have children."He smirks from that, if Ragnar heard him say that remark, he'd probably pay for it. Even if it was true. Looking down he must have been reading something since there is a book on the floor next to the chair he was asleep in. He picks it up and places it onto the desk. Feeling an itch in his throat he grabs a little drink.

Stood looking out the window, the moon high up in the sky, half cast by shadow. "I've had a lot of fun during this week." Taking a sip, "I've enjoyed my time with team Secto. Although we were surprised that Leander was actually Fiske. We had our fun moments, especially stealing that stagecoach for the Thin air eve-." his face went a bit grim, remembering that he owes someone a new stagecoach, since it was his idea, and it completely fell apart after the event. "Terrific, I completely forgot about that…" shrugging his shoulders and taking another sip from his cup.

He changes the subject by trying to remember what he was dreaming about when he fell asleep, he couldn't come close to remembering what he was dreaming about. letting out a disappointing sigh, Niallus finished off his drink, "When I get back home, I'll have to pay a visit to Ragnar, congratulate him in person. Can give him that egg too." He places the empty cup onto the desk, he slumps back into his chair. He wonders what the future will hold for him at Ersand'Enise. Just thinking about it makes him smile with anticipation. Picking up the book that he placed on his desk once more "Tales of Sipenta: The Laughing Knight. What page was I on again?" opening the book, Looking inside its pages it seems that he lost the page he was on. Cursing under his breath, with a shrug of his shoulders he opens it up on its first page and begins reading.

[Force and Fury]

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Part Two: Buying and Selling_________ __ __ _ _

Normally, the auctions at Ersand’Enise were reserved for Victendes. However, this was The Trials, and it presented a special opportunity that proved exceedingly difficult for the city’s merchants to turn down. Hence, the regularly scheduled event was being held a day early. Flush with their newfound prizes from the games, students bid extravagantly, spending their money with the reckless abandon of youth. In this instance, many of the older guard - the auction house's more usual buyers and sellers - stood towards the back of the crowded open-sided hall as the sun began to set, arms crossed over their chest, observing and gossiping. There was an uneasy air about the place, despite the outwardly celebratory nature of the day, for they knew that the auctioneers and the bidders were not the only ones buying and selling.

The first day’s worth of negotiations proved a waste, as almost all had known they would be beforehand. Perhaps it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. Perhaps that was just the way of these things. As fortunes were lost and won in the Mercantile District, the fortunes of entire nations remained uncertain as the last of the day’s light faded and the crickets and bullfrogs in the arboretum began their nighttime symphony.

It was deep into the hours of Dami that people continued moving about the city, and into those of Ipte as well. Most of these late night ventures were innocent enough: foreign youths enjoying their final night in the city of magic, rollicking and reveling before a bleary-eyed departure the following day. Some, however, were about with real purpose.

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The monarchs in their guest homes had not missed the jabs and jibes directed at them during the day. The papers had been everywhere. Their reception as they’d made their way through the Workman’s Quarter had been less than raucous. Some had opted to travel incognito. Those most foreign among them went all-but unrecognized. It was in this part of the city, seething and impoverished by comparison with the rest of it, that the ideology of the Traveler held most sway. It was here that a small group of nondescript people had been meeting - just as fruitlessly as their more illustrious peers - for hours.

“I don’t see why the vote should have to be unanimous!” roared a large man, hammering the table as he stood. In truth, while they remained in the majority, he knew that his side was slipping. It had started, seven hours ago, with one dissenter. Now there were three among the ten, and at least a couple more wavering.

“This is the best damned chance we’re going to get in a lifetime!” added a woman in a red mask. “I, as I’m sure we all do, lament the loss of life, but what is one bitter pill now if it frees us of centuries of their depredations?”

Its tone was not raised, but it cut through the hot voices that had taken over the room. “And yet it is not you,” it reminded the man and the woman, “who will be swallowing that pill yourselves.” The black masked figure remained seated. It shook its head. “Us who lead the fight against the privileged few must be wary lest we become reflections of them.”

A yellow-masked man snorted, his smiling mask belying what appeared to be his true feelings on the matter. “Fine words, Nero, but they take us no closer to our ultimate goal: the revolution.”

“Hear hear!” shouted a couple of other voices. There was a ragged hammering of approval on the table.

At the very head of it there sat a silent figure, its mask gold. For the first time in quite a while, it released its stillness by tilting its head to one side. “It is an easy mistake to make,” that silent figure interjected, “and one that I fear is becoming all too common.” It rose. “Our goal is not the revolution. It has never been.”

“I-I merely meant… that-”

A gloved hand reached up and the gold-masked figure placed a finger to its lips. There was silence. “The revolution is a means to an end, one of many possible paths.”

The black-masked figure observed it and nodded slowly for its counterpart to continue.

“Our goal has always been - and remains - ensuring the best for all people. Now, answer me this, Smiler, does a war that will kill millions ensure the best for all people?”

“Does an endless cycle of poverty and exploitation?” interjected a gravelly voice. A lean figure in a silver mask rose to be heard. “Sacrifices must be made. It is the deaths of some now for the salvation of a great many in the future.”

They had become lessened in their restraint over these past hours. A group of normally very composed individuals reduced to mere politicians in that time. The black masked figure was finished watching. It, too, stood. “If this were strictly the case, Argento, then you would be correct and we would have no argument. It is not, however, the case. You and those who have taken your side are eager to view this as a binary issue. Either we have the war and it will inevitably allow us to stage our glorious revolution and, of course, that revolution will lead to a utopia. Else, we do not have the war and the revolution will not be possible. Without that revolution, there is no utopia.” Nero shook his head. “Do you see how limited that thinking is?”

“So you would gamble on some nebulous alternative?” challenged the red-masked woman.

“If we are to be truly egalitarian, we must show some faith in people’s ability to recognize opportunities on their own and act upon these, else we are a ruling cabal, little different, in spirit, from those already in place.” He clasped his hands at the small of his back. “We do not need a war in order for things to become unbearable. If we can save lives, it is morally incumbent upon us to do so. Even a single one sacrificed in the name of our cause against her will is one too many.”

Gold spread its arms. “Brothers and sisters,” it implored, “let us not lose hold of our ideals - the very things that ignite our cause and make it worthy - in a rush to be pragmatic. We are not warriors. We do not look to fight. We do so if we must.”

The tenor of the discussion had changed. Red had nodded grudgingly. Yellow threw himself back into his seat, crossed his arms, and snorted, signalling his surrender. “You are great-hearted, as always, Dorato, but you are wrong on this,” grated Argento. “I am not so foolish, however, as to be unable to recognize that I shall be outnumbered on this.” He bowed his head. “I yield with a warning: more will suffer because of this decision than otherwise.” He sat.

“And of our army?” inquired a new voice. “What of them?” It was a woman in a blue mask.

Gold and Black twisted at the very same moment to regard each other. “Why, it shall still be used,” allowed the latter. “There is no better way to put the fear into tyrants than empowering their people.” Gold nodded in agreement. “Perhaps we shall have our revolution after all.”

“Or perhaps the war shall be avoided through these very actions.” Nero leaned forward and pressed his hands onto the tabletop. “All rise for a vote.”

It was ten against accelerating the war to zero in favour.

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The masked figures who met at the edge of the Workman’s Quarter were not the only ones attempting to prevent a war or, at least a hot war. In the Violet Enclave, lights burned into the darkness and plans were made for an announcement on the morrow. If any among the group that met here harboured misgivings, they did not dare speak out. If there was less hierarchy in this meeting, there was also less democracy. Besides, the stones had already been quarried. They had been carved and now lay hidden, as did the Traveler’s ‘army’, under canvas and tarpaulin in a series of warehouses. Contracts had been signed. People had been sent. It was far too late to turn back now, and so matters were decided with many long-winded speeches but minimal fuss.

So it was that the city of Ersand’Enise finally found sleep that night of Velles the eighth. As the final fires and lanterns were extinguished, eyes ancient and arcane appeared atop the great windy spire of the Forked Tower. And these eyes looked down upon the city and its tiny people below. They stood at varying degrees of consequence to the being who watched over them, from foxbat to mosquito. Soon, they would spill each other’s blood in a war greater than any that had been fought in history: a war that had been in planning for many decades. A vast toothy grin split the lower half of the watcher’s face, teeth sharp and white and gleaming in the moonlight.

---

---

The morning dawned cool and overcast, a brisk wind causing flags to strain at their posts and great grey rivers of anvil-shaped clouds to migrate across the sky, their bellies heavy with rain. They gathered by the thousands, then, in Market Square spilling into the various labyrinthine streets of the Mercantile and Artisans’ Districts. Claresse Upta, Zenith of Ersand’Enise, was giving a speech to close out the four-hundredth iteration of The Trials. It was actually rather a good one, but Sven Bjornsson could scarcely pay attention to it.
It was late the night previous when Ingrid had approached him with a plan. The funds for the music box were due today and they did not have them. It would either mark the end of their ill-advised little rebellion, or else they would be forced to take irreversible action. It had been a red-eye discussion, into Ipte’s hours, but they had settled upon a plan. The two of them and Desmond were to accept the government’s funds and make their way towards the secure facility where the music box had been stored. That was their alibi. Meanwhile, their co-conspirators - like-minded students who had joined them in the Hourglass Order - were going to use a distraction that Benedetto had assured them would arrive as cover for a daring caper.

It was cowardly, dishonest, and underhanded, but it could work, and Sven found more honour in preventing a war’s worth of bloodshed than he did in abetting it anyhow. The others would rob them during the exchange, along with the item, as they patriotically attempted to defend it. All would make out with upwards of two thousand magus. He had wanted to take a stand, first, but the nail that stuck up at this point would only open itself to benign hammered down, and he had made the concession. The goal here was not to burnish his ego but to save lives: both human and animal lives. In, he breathed, and out. He’d said his goodbyes, already, to some of the foreign friends he’d made. They’d exchanged addresses and would write, or so they’d told each other. From his experience, such arrangements ran about a thirty percent success rate.

Then, the customary speech was finished, and he duly provided his best applause. Yet, there was more. All at once, a colossal surge of energy filled the air. From seemingly every direction rose massive stones. They floated overhead, gathering above one corner of the expansive plaza that had been cordoned off, and there they took shape. A yawning circular gate solidified itself in front of the twin pavilions, fifty feet tall and as many in width. Then, the sky crackled with energy as students and laymen gasped and shouted. Time and space trembled and then tore. An enormous swirling mass of energy occupied the center of the portal and - faintly, on the other side - there appeared figures. “Ladies and gentlemen, students and laymen alike,” announced the Zenith, “It is my honour and privilege as Zenith of this city and this institution to announce the opening of a permanent connection to Callanast: the Silk Portal!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, gasps, and a rising crescendo of raucous conversation. A permanent portal to Callanast!? Sven could scarce fathom such a thing. He glanced about at his peers, and they seemed already to be hotly discussing its merits and drawbacks. “On the other side, as one steps through, lies the Hegelan capital of Hogh Munkhelad, now revealed in all of its majesty for the rest of the world.” She spread her arms, regal and beatific. “Every Victendes, from sunup to sundown, this great gate shall remain open, courtesy of the talents of this institution. In the future, there shall be a fee, and four more cities added to our nascent network, for the other four days of the week.” She nodded and gazed out over the crowd. “For today, this portal is free to use: free and open!”

At that, they cheered. Sven wasn’t sure how to feel, and he was not the only one. The Zenith went on to explain that all neutral cities - those engaged in neither war nor aggression - would be eligible to bid for portal connections. The benefit to trade and exchange of ideas would be immense. It would be world-altering. His head swam. The opportunities! The dangers! In the end, he joined the cheers. Most everyone did. It was that momentum that carried them all of the way through the rest of the closing ceremony. The visiting teams left, a half-dozen lesser portals closed, and the Hegelans of Shortlisted stepped through with waves and smiles.

That was when the chaos began. A massive aberration materialized in the center of the crowd, and then a second immediately outside of the portal. One missed Niallus by inches, and another latched onto Marlijn and drew itself into her. They appeared by the dozens. They appeared by the hundreds...

[YummyYummy]

---

---

Velles 5th

^{Location: Au Boeuf Rouge - Ersand'Enise
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 4:XX HE
Characters: Ingrid @dragonpiece,
Maura @Ti, Zarina, Anna, Etienne, Frédérique
Au Boeuf Rouge's Staff, Carving Contestants
Mystery Player}

---

Étienne walks through to the carving area, already holding his nose. Why he agreed to this was beyond him, perhaps the old weasel tricked him. Regardless, he is here, let’s see what these peasants can do.

He walks up to the slates, taking it from one of the assistants as he started crossing names off already. “These can go home”. He hands the slate back to the poor assistant who has to break the bad news, “Refund them and apologise” says Frédérique to the bewildered girl as she is already cleaning up her brother's messes as she sighs to him.

“Monsieur… Snood”, he could taste the disgust from the tip of his tongue, but he is Eskandish at least. “Show us why you are here.”

The Eskandish man got his hammer and chisel ready, standing tall and proud before the pouncy Perrench as he easily towers over them. He shouts over to one of the assistants before addressing the noble, “Bring me th' coo”. As the animal is brought into sight, he turns to look down towards Étienne. “Boy, we are the land of the Snowsweeper, and I am a true wolf-feeder. You don’t stab this magnificent beast with a wound-hoe or shoot it with wound-bees, as it seeps with its corpse-milk.

Thorin moves over to the dairy cow offered for his demonstration as he shouts in some Eskandish, as moves to stroke his hands along the cow's head, speaking towards it gently in a relaxing manner. “Animals, when frightened, can ruin meat. It needs to be relaxed and you work with precision.” The cow looks rather content and unaware of its surrounding situation as it was being fed. Thorin gives the nod as he moves towards the back of the animal, moving the chisel along the base of the skull. He draws upon magnetic magic as he causes a sharp electric current to project into the cow along the chisel to stun the creature, then using his hammer, smashes the chisel into the back of the skull, killing it cleanly and quickly. “Meat now succulent. Now we celebrate with a pool of malt.”, he cheers as he uses his impressive strength to chop the creature up and hoist the animal up onto a hook.

“If it wasn’t so savage, I might have thought I was just witnessing you, dear Frédérique”, his lips twist as he smiles towards his sister. “Always so kind, brother.”, as she smiles back towards him, her eyes for a moment telling him a different story. Étienne does look rather impressed with the result, the man seems to know a thing or two about meat for a barbarian, making a mark against his name for consideration.

Frédérique moves along to the next on the list, her eyes looking up and down upon Zarina’s form. “Would you be Lady Al-Nader?”, offering the girl an overly sweet pleasant smile. Étienne moves up alongside his sister, looking upon the cleaned surface with boiling water, herbs, spices, and other things, “la demoiselle, the cooks are in the next room. I don’t want to see a girl like yourself around all these butchers and sharp implements getting hurt.”

Zarina perks up at the call of her name. She is just about ready to give a steaming display to the audience by dunking the carcass into boiling water, allowing for aromas to permeate the air with a variety of colors, courtesy of the spices and colorants she added to the solution, “Hmmm? That would be me, yeah.” the butcher-ready Virangish worker turns to acknowledge the twins. Etienne added his own unwarranted comment as she let the cow's body dive into the hot tank.

“There's a girl almost half my size in the next room that's also butchering,” she claims as she tugs on the chain with her kinetic magic to hoist the scalded body up. The steam is indeed quick colorful and the smells invoked strong spices from the North, “I'll be fine.” she grins confidently, with two carving knives on her palms. With a deep breath, she makes the carcass spin at medium speed while still hanging from he chain, allowing her to elegantly swing her blade whilst circling the hanging piece of meat. Precise cuts enhanced by her Kinetic magic made the skin just loose enough to fall after a final swipe to the unhooked hoof. A fully exposed cow carcass, with the head quickly lopped off along with the hooves with the exception of the hooked foot. Zarina adopts a pose and bows, “Next, I will be selecting three quality cuts.”

For a moment she pauses to acknowledge her audience, and then she points right at Etienne, “You.” she raises her chin, “Show me the cuts you wish to have served.” she smirks, “Unless you're afraid of a little blood and guts, of course.” and just as she says that, a deep cut she had made to the abdomen of the corpse opens up, with the innards seamlessly pouring into a bucket under it. All very clean, the audience did not have to see them for more than a second.

Étienne gives a wide grin as he finds himself interested in this Vigrandish girl as he eyes her figure. I wonder if she is this feisty in bed. He approaches the carcass as he points towards the sides of the spine. ”You may serve me Filet Mignon. Though I like to treat the servants well, so cut me a Ribeye and Porterhouse for them.”. It is not unexpected for a man of his pedigree to demand the rarest and most choice cut of the beef. It doesn’t bode well for the Snowsweeper.

Frédérique gives her brother a glance as she recognises the beef isn’t the flank of meat he is interested in. Étienne is unable to filter out that disgust directed towards him completely. Being a twin can be a curse in moments like this.

Zarina checks out the pieces that are requested. Butchering isn't her specialty - far from it - but she is the only one in the team with concrete experience. So she goes for it, “Very well.” her fingers hover the appropriate knife, but before actually seizing it, she actually takes the twig and snaps it, “Do you expect an actual steak for your meal, dear guest?” she turns to face Etienne, hands behind her back, and posture straight.

Étienne smiles as he looks towards Frédérique, ”I think a cut for my dear sister and myself is in order.” He aims to soothe some of that unpleasantness in the connection they share.

As the stick is snapped, there is silence for a moment as it appears nothing happened, then a music beat started. The twins looked around to see who was making the sound, along with some of the other guests who were mumbling. Only person not completely surprised was the one who activated the trigger herself.

It seemed as if almost on cue, the music began as the castanets started clapping. Zarina is prepared.

There it is, the quick succession of cord notes that serve as a prelude to a spicy theme from home. Right as the percussions start, Zarina draws both her carving knives, raising them over her head in a Y stance before she slightly tilts her body, right foot forward and flexed to have it stand on the ball of her foot and toes. And then she starts!

A breeze brushes by the guests and all the viewers that curiously peeked in Zarina's quarters. Empowered by her keen grasp of Kinetic Magic and the air filled with aromas from the brew she had been making combined with her chemical magic, she got to work. The Ribeye first. Her footwork is discreet as she was wearing but light, dancing shoes, all emphasized as she circled her carcass. The ribs were her target, and she make sure to properly isolate them, before carving them up in singular, precise slashes. They were the easiest, as the bones essentially draw the lines for her. The next was the porterhouse, and she has to be careful to not sever the tenderloin. She holds herself on one leg, the other fully flexed with the sole of her shoe pressed to her knee. And then, with a new knife in hand, she perform a quick jab and then a tugged downward to get the right cut.

All of it resembled a dance, with Zarina adding unnecessary waves of her arms and pauses to pose. When she gets a piece, she makes a point to quickly turn to her audience, blades extended and the steaks presented to them in a row of plates she had set up. Finally comes the Filet Mignon. She needs the Tenderloin she had been careful to preserve. [1:50] She does aim for the cut itself, but instead proceeds to chop down all the other bits that could be served up. Each piece is part of her dance, and eventually, with the tenderloin fully isolated, she perform a final, closing slash. The two pieces of meat rest onto of her knife, stacked, as she bows to her audience.

“A Tenderloin for My Lord and Lady, each.”

Étienne claps to the beat of the music as the girl twirls around in front of him. Frédérique, despite a desire to dislike the girl, cannot help but be impressed by the performance.

What before them was something most certainly unique, butchery to music. Some of the competition simply walked out in protest at the judges reaction, others that they feel they cannot compete at such a level. It was almost as if Zarina was having the judges eating out of her hand if she had cooked the steak as it was served to them.

Frédérique led the clap at the end of the performance as blue rose petals fell around the girl who well and truly stole the attention away from the room. ”Fantastique”. Étienne handed Zarina two notes as he took his sister's arm, guiding her towards the competition who were fleeing from the pair.

Nia showed an incredible display with her sword work as the metal sliced and dices upon the flesh. Her honed swordplay was certainly better than Zarina’s own, but without the music and fanfare, it just seemed to pale in comparison. Destined to be second best as always.

The Huulendamn boy chose venison as his choice of cut. He was able to expertly skin the creature, showing great masterwork and consideration of that of a practised gamehunter. His knife peeling away the layers like they were nothing. Except this competition was no longer based on skill, but who can do the prettiest dancing. After the unimpressed boredom upon the judges faces, he lowers the tools and leave.

The Eskandish Beserker, Thorrin was the only other to get a ‘passing grade’ after Zarina’s performance. The man swept his blonde hair to the side as he looks upon the cuts at the end. “Sloppy. Perhaps you’ll be a dancer as I work the meat.”

Anna looks a little deflated afterwards but cheered on Zarina during her dancing.

Zarina looks down at the notes within her hands. The first is recognition of her passing the judges inspection, the other is… an address. “Baignes-toi et viens ici ce soir" bathe and come here tonight.

With her ploy delivering greatly, Zarina takes the time to prepare different plates to be delivered to Ingrid. Given what has been said, she figures making more than one dish is the way to go. She sends the following:

-Tenderloin, Makes a Filet Mignon typical dish
-Ribeye make something fancy.
-Make Bourgignon with with Porterhouse meat.
-Not Eskandish

Then comes the note for her. She raises a brow as she reads, "Fucking Prenchies." she shakes her head, and goes to witness Ingrid's work.

[Ti]

---

---

Event: Zaqhoria Nightmares | Location: Bedroom, Ersand'Enise

---

---

"The rest of you," Jocasta quickly murmured, "get out of here. Now."

Ayla tossed and turned; she curled up tighter upon the bed. The linen sheets wrapped so tightly around her, as if clinging desperately for their warmth.

Heart hissed. "For that, I shall extract a toll."

Asier had moved over to Ayla as he licked over her face to wake her. The poor girl woke up to the aroma of puff lion cub breath and drool over her facial features as she looked up at him. “Cielos, Asier, how do you keep escaping.” The lion cub looked toward her, before he started to puff up again. Ayla quickly put up the sound dampener around the room before she was blasted with the roar. “Asier! No roaring when people are sleeping. Jocasta has already threatened to turn you into a pair of mittens, and never heard her threaten twice before.” She sat up as she hooked the lion cub under her arms as she moved him over to his bed. “Now stay.” he looked up towards her expectantly as she stared toward him. She sighed as she moved over to the counter where she had some leftover chicken, bringing it over. ”Good, Stay Asier.” she cast the chicken into the food bowl beside his bed. The cub ate upon it greedily.

Ayla went over to the handbasin as she starts to wash down her face. Every night. The exact same nightmare. That monster rears its ugly head. That snarling grin. Those long sharp teeth. She returned to the bed as she made an observation, The candles were already lit again came the thought as she moved to dampen them. She peered over searchingly to the lion cub who seemed to retire happily to his bed after his fill. Perhaps one simply forgot.

She slipped under the linen covers again as her head rested against the pillow after a drink of water and valerian root. This last week has been one trial after another, mentally and physically, with both her and her peers unable to rest. She wondered about her friends, if they are suffering or afflicted with the same nightmares or worse.

She breathed in the scent of lavender upon her pillow as she returned once again to a deep slumber.

---

Then, it stalked towards the group, incandescent with eagerness. "Nnnnow, mmhhhhy turn!" A wicked smile split its face. "Deeeatttth!" hisses the monster.

Ingrid who tried hard, desperately pleading for their lives was caught unaware, the monster came after her and it decapitated the Eskandish girl with a single slash of her inhuman claws.

Ayla called out after Ingrid, though there were no words. She wanted to help. It was as if her mouth was sealed shut, her access to sonic magic appeared completely cut. Powerless. Helpless. The tall girl’s body just dropped to the floor with a thud.

Heart turned towards Ayla, that damned smile formed upon her lips as she grinned evilly at the girl paralysed in fear. "Not even a challenge"

Powerless.

Jocasta had been angered and is now using her overwhelming power, as immense energies converged upon the monster. The being with a flick of her wrist shattered Jocasta's kinetic hold, treating her as if she was nothing but a fly as the blonde was swotted across the floor of the arena in return.

Jocasta looked up scared, she was truly frightened, "I have met her before, or a... version of her. In the desert. A demon.”

The being tilted its head to the side at Jocasta's comment. "A demon!?" It shook its head. "I am no demon, girl." She glared.

A demon...

Heart raised her hand towards Jocasta as the blonde pulled into the air. There was an ear-piercing screech from her mouth as her body started to contort, as if being crushed by invisible talons. "You are strong enough to be insolent. Perhaps I should break your arms too" she hissed. Jocasta was flung against the wall like a rag-doll, her body crumpled as she lay unconscious.

You are strong.

Desmond looked toward Heart as his body shook, the pistols trembling in his hands. “Aww Shiet, son…” He turned to Ayla, “I will distract her, help them. Get out of this.”. He grabbed a hold of his guns tighter, as if building his resolve. ”Hey, big and ugly. Over here.”.

Heart bemused by the significantly weaker Desmond challenging her, the being is now distracted. Ayla made her way over to Jocasta as she checked her airways, breathing shallow, weak pulse… she is alive. Barely. Zarina came up to the pair, looking very concerned, though softened at the signs of life. “I’ll take her, Kitty Cat. You’re too weak and powerless.”

But you’re weak.

Heart having grown bored with Desmond hurling iron pebbles at her. "Learn some decorum, child. Strike me again, and you shall know suffering, truly.”.

Desmond smiled wide, and mischievously at her. “Yet, sadly, some things must be done”

The boy draws back upon his hands as he begins to summon an artefact. A great, significant shape appears before him, almost dwarfing the monster herself. The shape of a 20ft 17tonne, magnificent super cannon.

Ayla with almost no knowledge of warfare instantly recognized it for what it is. La Llama Sagrada! The Great Torragonese Bombard of Varrahasta! Even Desmond would be unstoppable with that.

Zarina called over to Ayla as she carried Jocasta upon her back. “Hurry, you are only slowing us down.”

You slow them down.

“Those who are dead have no fear." Desmond saluted with his hand towards his friends, chopping it downwards as he fired the super cannon.

La Llama Sagrada released a fierce explosion as a jet of fire erupted from the muzzle depicting a Roaring Lion’s head. The 25 inch (63cm), 1 tonne (2256 lb) iron shot propelled at hypersonic speeds towards Heart.

The being attempted to brace as she was thrown through the wall of the chamber, leaving a massive crater in its wake. Everyone in the room were thrown to the surrounding walls themselves also, as the arena fills with smoke, debris and dust.

There is a deafening silence as it begins to clear, there was hope. The group takes a moment to rest before a silhouette of the Being begins to appear within the dust cloud. Heart flinched for a moment, flaring its nostrils. "Not bad, boy."

Desmond began trying to stand up shakily until he is fully erect as looked at the being, "Well fuck." After a few more breaths, she raised her head and looked right at him. "Well, fuck." she mimicked.

Heart reached out as the cannon seems to crumble within her grasp as if it were made of paper, scrunching it up into a ball then crushing the wreckage on top of Desmond.

Ayla was in shock as she looked towards the being. Such unfathomable power within her hands that it even stopped the La Llama Sagrada itself. It would have to take someone like Alizée herself to stop something like this.

“Kitty cat, wake up!”

Wake up.

Zarina looked up toward the being as she kissed the platinum Darhannic pennant around her neck. Her fingers wrapped upon the hilts of Il-Halim and Il-Kabus as she kissed upon the blades.

"Your friend does not seem to agree," she hissed. With the snap of a finger, as Ayla tried to stand up, the being flicked her back upon her behind as she slid back against the wall. "Do not presume."

Zarina drew her blades as she moved at a great speed, attempting to distract the Being with an assault upon her senses with chemical magic. The Virangish girl's body flicks, bobs and weaves, moving with great finesse.

Heart appeared frustrated as her attacks missed their mark. The claws attempting to embed themselves into the shadows where she once were.

Zarina sensing the opportunity, moved to strike. “Eat this!”. She hopped onto the beast’s arm, using it to springboard into the air with a twirl, the blades primed as she delivers death from above.

The points of the blade stab into the monster’s neck from both sides as Zarina attempted to decapitate her upon the spot.

The metal only grazes, only the tip sticking as they became stuck

Zarina uses all her might to try to finish the job, pushing everything into her kinetic abilities.

“I do enjoy fast food.”

Heart wrapped her claws around Zarina to keep her still, her jaw dislocating and stretching similar to that of a snake as she lowers the girl like a Virangish Pepper into her maw.

“No no no!… If you just listened … Ayla, you idiot!”

If you just listened.

The voice of Heart once again echoed through her mind as she watched in horror as she begins to consume her best friend. "I am no demon, girl."

“But I am.”

A new mysterious being appeared in their magnificent glory. A woman whose hair and body is clothed in fire, sporting what appeared to have long curled horns like a ram upon her head. Her mouth appeared in a cruel reflection of what is meant to be a soft and gentle smile.

“So why don’t you stop her?”

The woman stood there, looking towards Ayla expectantly. The scene of Zarina continued at a pace slightly slower than what would be expected as the bones in feet and shins crunched as she is being compacted, consumed alive. It spectated the sight of Zarina as she commented upon it. “Ooo, that would have hurt…”

Ayla looked toward this new Being incredulously, one which seemed to spectate and take delight and treat the situation as if it was one big game. “There is nothing this one can do. My friends have died because of me.”

The being clicked her tongue, “You are not wrong. Kind of what happens if you don’t listen and deny your birth right.”. She wore a coy smile as she moved around as she leans against Ayla’s back, perching upon her as a makeshift resting post in this new position. “You even ruined that beautiful hair of yours.” she pinched upon it, examined it then cast it aside as she expressed a look of disgust.

”We do not deny who we are. For this one is Ayla Arslan, the Lion Cub of Varrahasta, the Unburnt…”, “... Alizée Arslan reborn, yes, yes, so cute of you.” she moves her fingers to pinch upon Ayla’s cheeks like an overly tactile aunt and gives them an overly rough tug.

Ayla shivered, “That is not one of my titles”, she pushed back against her, breaking free as she moved in front, turned toward her angrily. ”Aww, little lion cub baring her fangs. Shame you are too occupied with being weak to bother saving your friend… who… oh, won’t be using her legs for a while.” The woman wagged her finger as she updated the situation.

Zarina is seen to fruitlessly try to push back against that snake like mouth, crying out, cursing. “... Kitty Cat!”

The woman grinned widely, “So much for being the lion cub, more like a petulant kitten who is just walking around purring and hugging everyone.” Ayla, frustrated as she shouted at her. “Save her! You are clearly able to do something.” her voice turned pleadingly towards the strange woman.

The woman responded with a sigh as she moved her hand upwards to examine her finger nails in a bored manner. “You are weak and pitiful. You brought your friends into this mess, and you killed them. It is your duty to make this right. If you are weak, make yourself strong. Might makes right.”

Taunted, Ayla strutted over to Heart as she made her attack, and for the hundredth time failed again. She finds herself standing in the dark void again, though this time not waking up from her nightmare. Behind her is the sound of clapping, it seemed like she wasn’t alone in here.

“Woo hoo! You go kitty cat, you tried again. Though, you know, the definition of a fool is constantly repeating the same mistakes.” She walked around before her as she waved her hands as if sealing up the mysterious dark clouds that were present last time. “We don’t want any interruptions this time. Told Ipte to take a rain check and that you were with me today. A daughter of Eschiran preaching love is just yuck. So unbecoming of an Arslan.”

Ayla raised her eyebrow, “You give the Gods orders?” the woman only smiling sickly sweet in response to this question. “So, what could be different? Not even Jocasta could stop Heart, and she is the most powerful student in the academy.”

The woman clapped her hands together and points towards Ayla. “Now, if you were not being obtuse, you would recognize that answer.” she uses her hand to cast aside the cloud to display a scene of a woman with a child, surrounded by nurse maids. “Let me walk you through it little one, back when your mother held you in her arms after you were born and proudly declared you to be Alizée Arslan reborn, a naturally gifted lil’ Arslan Arsonist who was born a fireblood. They were so proud of you.” She sighed as she dismissed the scenery, “Such a waste of potential, a squandered gift.”

Ayla bristled at the statement, “I chose to go a different path. I wanted to be something better.”. The woman waved her hand dismissively side-to-side, “More like Maura chose it for you. Boo hoo, she was so frightened you would burn her like those others.” as she mimicked crying. Ayla shook a moment as she could feel her emotions rising, “That is cruel.”, “It is not as if they didn’t deserve it.”, “They did not deserve that. No one does.”

The woman smiled as she clapped her hand as if reality was being rewound in front of them, the pair being brought back into the start of the scene. “Good, use that fiery temper of yours and roar for me, kitty cat. Allow me to show you what you could have been.”

Ayla looked down upon her figure as she was now burning brightly, her appearance taking the manner of the strange woman as her own figure is clothed in fire. She could sense an overwhelming surge of arcane and chemical energy burning through her veins as she has been blessed with a significant amount of firepower.

Now take this for a spin. Imagine how things could have been different

Then Heart stalked towards the group, incandescent with eagerness. "Nnnnow, mmhhhhy turn!" A wicked smile split its face. "Deeeatttth!" hisses the monster.

Ingrid who tried hard, desperately pleading for their lives was caught unaware, the monster came after her and stopped in its tracked as a wall of flame shot up between her and the Eskandish girl. Heart flinched as she stopped herself from entering it.

“Who gave you permission to harm my friend, Demon.”. Ayla stepped forward as Alizée Arslan reborn, she flicked her hair as tendrils of fire start to spread along the floor of the arena.

The being tilted its head to the side at Ayla's comment. "A demon!?" It shook its head. "I am no demon, girl." She glared.

Ayla’s smile spread upon her face widely as she acknowledged the Being’s comment. “How unfortunate for you. I am the daughter of the Grand Demon Hetraxa herself, Alizée Arslan, the Daughter of Eschiran, the Vengeance of the Tourrare.” She stepped forward as the tendrils flick along the ground as they scorch the stone flooring.

Ooo liking these titles a lot more.

An immense fang-filled maw opened before her. "HHHHHHHUUUUUUUMMMMAAAAAANNN." She could feel great nostrils snorting towards her. The voice was immense, sepulchral, regal. Heart has transformed herself into the beast they first encountered as they entered the arena.

Jocasta, Desmond, Zarina, Ingrid… the four of them stood back as they watched in horror at the monstrous form before them with only a petite fiery haired girl standing between them and certain death.

Ayla tilted her head back towards her friends and smiled warmly towards them. “Sorry for having kept you all waiting. It is my turn now.”. Jocasta nodded appreciatively in return, ”Right.. Everyone stays behind my shield as we let her do her thing.”

"DEATH!" screamed the monster. "DEEEEEAAAATHHH!!!!"

“Then I have to grant it you!”

A cyclone of flame engulfs Ayla as she burns brightly, the hot air making her rise in the air and floats, looking down towards the beast defiantly.

Heart inhaled as she took in a deep breath as powerful energies start converging within her maw. Ayla responded by doing likewise, as flames spiral into her hands as she gathers her magical energy. There is a moment of silence, then a boom as a highly charged explosion of atomic fire headed towards Ayla.

The girl closed her eyes for a brief moment as she prayed. She prayed for her to have the strength to overwhelm her foes, to have a determination to do what is needed, to have the courage to overcome all obstacles.

{Shift in Tone.} Granted!

Ayla opened her eyes as the atomic fire headed towards her and drew harder. The flame pulled into the swirling mass of Ayla’s making it larger, stronger, as it ignites into an inferno. Heart giving everything she has into the atomic fire blast, attempting to overwhelm her with flame.

“Ugh… it is so hot.”
“Kitty cat, it is too much! Jo cannot keep up”
“I am feeling so thirsty…”
“Hotter than your mama in here”

Ayla turned towards them, “I am not a kitten, I am a Lioness… Hear my ROAR!”

Heart could only look on as Ayla drew back upon her hands, lifting the inferno above her head, the vortex of fire burning brighter than five suns as she slams it down upon the Monster.

The Being roared back defiantly as it braced, doing its best to hold off the empowered meteor strike, “WWEEEAAAAKKKKK!”

Ayla continues to struggle, as she concentrates to directly contain and control the energies against the creature. Heart steps forward as she is holding ground, the pair of them hand to hand with the massive fiery vortex held between them.

Don’t Waver
”…too much.”
You have the strength!
“... my friends”
Will be spared from the Beast

Ayla grits her teeth as she reforms her resolve. Her eyes burning brightly as she draws upon the strength of her ancestor. The flaming tendrils run along the floor towards the abomination as they impale through her scales, one after another, burrowing deep as the flame pours into her body. The dragon’s scales smoking and burning as they start to ignite.

“Become Ash!”

The deep soulless blackness of her eyes stared piercingly towards Ayla as it screamed out in its own terror, it’s maw splitting apart in anguish, ”NOOOOOOOOO!!!”

The blaze of five suns crash down upon the Being. It’s flesh boiling, hissing, and steaming as all that remains is an ashen crater where she once stood.

Ayla smiled brightly in triumph, “I did it! I defeated her! I saved everyone! Jo, Zazzy, Ingy, Des, it is over!”

{Maniacal Laughter}

Ayla puzzled, turned towards them.

No.

She screamed.

---

Asier clawed at Ayla again in frustration, the puff lion cub breathed in to release an almighty roar once again towards the girl.

Ayla groggily wakes up as she feels the pain shooting along her body, the trickles of blood from the scratching.

”Asier…”

The air thick with smoke and burning. The linen like charcoal all around her as the room is on fire. The Puff Lion cub looking towards Ayla with desperate eyes.

Ayla uses her kinetic magic to draw in the air quickly and suddenly, depriving the fire of its much-needed sustenance as she extinguishes it, as she casts the blazing heat out of the room.

She tugs Asier into her arms as she cuddled the puff lion cub close, soothing it as they take their moment to breathe in the far cooler air which rushes in from outside.

”… we have been igniting the bed again, haven’t we?”

She sighed out. It has been years.

---

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[Tackytaff]

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Trials and Tribulations IV

Lambs for Slaughter

Silas didn’t have to wait long after returning to The Castle for his roommate to join him.

“Desmond! What happened with-”

A voice that was quite distinctly not that which belonged to Desmond came from the Desmond-shaped figure. “Cadence and this one seem to think you’ll be useful.”

Silas scowled at the stranger, but sure enough Desmond did appear to confirm the first words. Brother Wolf, but very much not the same man he’d spoken with less than an hour before. A dirty trick he thought, made all the more suspect by the striking similarities between his roommate and the dread priest. Neither of the two acknowledged it, so Silas did the same- always careful to differentiate what was meant to be seen with what he could see.

The trio reunited with that tall student Trypano on their path towards the workman’s quarter. Already it appeared the fight they interrupted had already reached its climax; a handful of students he somewhat recognized bloodied and hurt searching for a vanished Brother Ash.

Silas’s senses prickled at the figure cloaked in arcane magic fleeing to the south.

“He’s gone that way!” He shouted, pointing and running in the opposite direction. A very small lie, for 500 magus.

Except, the others didn’t give chase as he’d expected. The female student with an unfamiliar accent attacked the space instead. It was so fast, he hadn’t even felt her draw, and barely had time to duck out of the way as darts of pointed scraps of wood, metal, and rock flung past him. The screams that followed stopped Silas in his tracks, ruse forgotten completely.

“What in the hell-?” He whirled to find the rest of the group, Zeno’s included turning to restrain the girl. It all meant little once Brother Wolf intervened.

He could sense the victims of the unannounced attack, distant as they were. She hadn’t killed anyone. Still, his heart beat hard in his chest for more reason that the eerie puppets Wolf had made of his colleagues and teachers. Silas took the hair and cloth the older boy offered him. Upon feeling only three hairs between his fingers he reached up to pluck out the two more requested by his employer. He took off before the older boy could do more than curse his name into the darkness. Let them have their secrets and lies, he’d have no part of it. The church was no different in the end; hoarding wealth power and knowledge.

Silas ran nearly halfway across the city before finally slowing enough to sort the hairs and cloth into vials. Neither his dorm or Zeno's quarters felt particularly safe, and he doubted he'd get much sleep even if he made it so far unfollowed. He settled to instead wait beside the merchant's dorms, pacing in the shadows while he waited for the tall pale woman to return to her rooms.

Trypano later returned towards the dormitories, heading back after successfully dealing with the issue at hand and even collecting a few good samples to study upon her return. If there was someone waiting for her she made no indication that she was aware.

Silas cursed under his breath and jogged to keep stride with the tall Revidian as she walked right past him. He cleared his throat loudly, in an effort to draw her attention.
"Miss- uh-" His face flushed as it became obvious he'd forgotten her name, if he'd ever learned it in the first place. "I wanted to give you something" He finished, hurring over the awkward misstep of an introduction.

”Ah, Silas.” She recalled the other member of this scattered team, remembering his name largely from the trials team listings. She stopped and waited for him to speak his piece, her expression unchanged from its resting cool.

"You wanted some of that priest's blood yeah? For some kind-of bloodchild magic?" From his oversized pockets he procured the vial containing a torn piece of bloody handkerchief. He hoped there was enough light for her to make out what it was.

She didn’t want to be presumptuous but this was definitely what she expected. ”Ah, yes indeed. Thank you.” She gently procured the sample, examining it through the glass carefully. He could see bits of the cloth disappearing along with it’s reddish-brown coloration as she drew from the blood that was soaked within. She left a small remainder of it, a couple drops worth approximately. Producing the vial she had on her she looked inside, focusing as she rebuilt the liquid she had just broken down, her fine Blood Child senses already keenly familiar with this variety of blood. With any luck this copied sample would be virtually identical to the original. With a spare vial she created a portion more and passed the glass back to Silas.
”As thanks you’re welcome to my share of the coin from this mission. I’ll be attending largely so my contribution is recognized and little else.”

Silas watched in semi-disturbed silence as the energy inside the vial broke down and into her arm. "It’s not the coin I wanted from you." He said hurriedly, gently tapping the second vial of blonde hair in his pocket. "I want to know what you learn from it. If you find a way to counter whatever..." He tried and failed to think of some accurate description of what he'd seen Brother Lamb's magics do. "Whatever he did to turn them all to puppets. I want to know. He sounds more sure than he is, and quickly reverts back to nervous fidgeting, reaching out with his senses for anyone who may have been listening in on the conversation.

Trypano nodded, a small pull at the corner of her mouth, a shadow of a smile. It was nice to see others take an interest in discovering more.

”I’ll learn what I can from his blood. What I suspect however is that it’s not tied to his blood but rather what he’s learned. I’ve only seen something like this once before. I only barely managed to break free of it with chemical magic but I suspect something else was at play.”

She turned and began to continue on her way before stopping, if just briefly so.

”If you want to find out more then keep your eyes, such as they are, on Ismette. She knows techniques that nobody else has ever heard of, or at least have kept well and truly secret if they have.”

"Ismette?" Silas muttered to himself, remembering the singing Yasoi that had nearly broken the door frame to give a gift on his birthday. An impossible contrast to the haunting magic of the dread priest. Silas shook his head and the thoughts away. Just another person to avoid. He'd gotten caught up enough as it was- well past time to cash out and try and forget everything he saw.
"Thank you." He said, giving Trypano a curt nod before turning away. It was incredibly late, and Silas' weariness was growing but he walked past the common dorms for one final stop at the docks.

The small rowboat was still there. Tied to the southmost dock and pulling in and out with the lowering tide. Silas took a deep breath before stepping on, hands balling to tight fists in his pockets as he did his best to ignore the wavering kinetic energy under his feet. "Got what you asked for." He said, addressing the hunched and shrouded figure waiting for him.

And nearby stood Trypano, also waiting for their elusive employer.

It was dark and the tides had brought in a thin fog to add to the atmosphere. A meaningless thing for Silas, of course, as he saw Sinn’s unique energy signature, but to Trypano it was unexpectedly difficult to get a read from him even with her good reading capabilities. The figure stood, shrouded in nothing but the darkness, and approached Silas. His hand reached out and remained idle until he was given the big he had initially given them. His gaze was dull and indifferent. This was just business as usual and it was about time it concluded.

The contents were inspected once the exchange was made, with the gloves taken by Desmond and the vials secured. He examined each one before sealing the container and bringing it into the bowels of the old rowboat. A good three minutes of nothing followed with Sinn’s signature suddenly vanishing even to Silas’ other-sight. But at the third minute mark, he appeared where he had disappeared and ascended back with the bounty in hand.

“Eight hundred.” he uttered with a voice fitting his cold demeanor. A wooden case was presented to Silas with the contents revealed before his very non-eyes. He was free to count them, “We will be in touch, young Silas.” he mentioned whilst giving Trypano a passing glance. For the first time in their brief encounters, he showed a hint of amusement when his attention was on the unusually tall woman. As if he knew something, and he was going to be seeing more of her.

Dramatic Flashback

Early afternoons in Madame Copin’s whorehouse were always the most relaxed time. The handful of children that were typically hidden away had free roam of the place prior to the arrival of patrons. But on one particular day Silas opted to remain in the kitchens with his mother and the other women as they sat down for their late breakfasts. It was an exceptionally important day after all; a gift was waiting for them at the end of the table’s long bench. His mother showed him the handful of curling letters she claimed represented her name.

The package was wrapped in thin fabric, a scrap piece too small for anything more than a washcloth, though his comment stating as much only earned laughter from those in earshot.

“You can’t wash with silk mi jiano” His mother said kindly before passing it to him. Sure enough, the material was unlike anything he’d felt before. Thin and impossibly soft, he found himself absorbed by the wrapping until a collection of gasps returned his attention to the gift itself.

His mother had pulled a cloak from the box, and a shower of dried flowers came out with it. It too was made of another material unfamiliar to Silas. Velvet, he would later learn; a useless material that only lasted so long as it stayed dry. A terrible choice for outerwear; but the deep blue colour and light fur on the trim had left the room speechless. Until they all began again at once, a flurry of reaching arms and shrill excited voices.

“Manifique”

“The cost! How much do you-”

“What else from a Baron?”

“Even softer than it looks-!”

Laura, an exceptionally tall blonde woman was the first to stand and swat away the hands of the others. “Enough you greedy monsters. Let Aleshta enjoy her gift before you tear it to bits.” She gently pulled the cloak away only the flourish it dramatically, loosing another half dozen petals before draping the garment over Aline’s shoulders. Even over her tattered bedclothes it was a sight; her pale skin radiated where it could be seen through the dark fabric, only a shade darker than her eyes. even Silas found himself staring agape at his mother. Until the overpowering smell made him sneeze. A few of those close to him chuckled, and casual conversation around the table resumed; even if the topic remained focused on the gift.

“This is how you charm a woman Silas; pretty and expensive things are a sure way to a woman’s heart.” Silas had been running his hands over the fabric covering his mother’s arms, the slight change in shade depending on the way her rubbed fascinated him. He looked up to see Willa speaking to him and gave a disgusted look. Already her cup was filled with cheap wine and she leaned in too close to the boy. Silas stiffened and stared at her blankly. Why one earth would he ever want more women in his life? Laura inserted herself on the bench between them.

“What need will he have for gifts?!” She laughed and ran fingers through the small boy’s hair “with his mother’s eyes, the women will lift their skirts for a smile and a wink.”

“What nonsense are you filling my boy's head with Laura? He’s too young for such things!” Silas’s mother draped the arm he’d been petting over his shoulder.

“He’s old enough!” Shouted someone else from across the table, but embarrassment had left Silas’ face burning and eyes planted firmly on the table. “How long can you expect to keep him in a place like this Aleshta?”

“He’ll be pretty enough to pull a few women in himself in a few years,” It was meant to be a joke, but Silas felt his mother stiffen as the others laughed.

“Women, men… Even this baron of yours-”

“Kess ti, Enough Willa!.” Though it was not directed at him, the scorn in his mother’s voice made Silas flinch. Both her arms wrapped around Silas and pulled him backwards into her lap. “Do not listen to them Minya. A good and honest heart is the only true gift that matters to a woman.” She said quietly, almost whispering in his ear. The comfort he normally expected was stifled by the nauseatingly strong perfume of dry flowers still clinging to her new garment.

Roses and Neskals Finals

“I think you have something of mine.” Silas said, startling Ahrora from behind.

“Silas! Fancy seeing you here.” For all her casual tone, Silas could sense her increased heart rate and darting glances. It made him smile for some reason he couldn’t make sense of.

“We’re competing, and you’re avoiding the subject.”

“Are we? I haven’t been watching the scores.” She lied in an airy tone.

“I don’t much like being robbed.”

Ahrora abruptly took a step forward until Silas could feel her breath on his face. The warmth of it made his own hitch. “I supposed I’ll have to repay you.”

His smile flinched for only a moment. “Still an hour ‘till the match starts. By my eye while I shop?”

It earned him an eyeroll, but Ahrora slipped her arm into his and pulled him further north. The moment he was able to recover from the sudden intimate touch, Silas resisted. “Not that way.”

“But these are the best stalls,”

“Souvenirs.” He scoffed, “They’re all just here to trap visitors for the trials. Not worth our time.”

Ahrora faced him with an exaggerated pout even he was able to glean. “But I need something to bring home, to show I came all this way in the first place.”

Silas scowled and shook his head. “Whats the point? You’ll come visit again.”

“Oh will I?” She spun around to look at him, her words mixed with laughter. It was impossible for Silas to keep the red warmth from creeping up his face at that.

“It’s all made from second-rate binders and will fall apart before you even leave the city.” He continued, returning back to the point at hand.

Eventually he managed to pull her away to the vendors further behind- those with smaller displays and wares easy to move, lest any city guards come in search of licenses or permits. But the effort proved fruitless; the pair struggled to find anything of value and were near about to give up and spent their coin at the food stalls, when Silas stopped and turned at the last of the vendors.

“What?” Asked Ahrora impatiently, they’d already deduced that the one he’d stopped at had nothing of value, but Silas only motioned her to stay silent, and indicated the alley behind the manned table.

There was a figure there beckoning them while fidgeting nervously, as though he’d been waiting for them. The old man was poorly dressed, and lacked matching shoes, but still promised a wondrous assortment of wares should they follow him down the desolate alley. They agreed, Ahrora taking lead on speaking and inquiring, playing the ignorant foreigner, while Silas used his particular sight to measure the authenticity and worth of the items produced from the man’s pockets.

Useless trinkets at first, and Silas quickly grows weary of the man wasting their time, even while Ahrora finds some amusement in a pair of spectacles.

“This be the glass of unseeing! One shall see wat cannot be seen with tis.” He handed over the item to Ahrora for her inspection as he turned to Silas. “Buyin’ good ser?”

"We'll buy the spectacles,” He concedes, placing the other useless item’s the man hand handed them back, “a good price too if you show us where the real goods are."

The man gave Silas a look. A rather confused look if any. Is truly one man's treasure and another man's trash? “Eh, yer bighter, sayin’ tis not good enough for yer?” He took the discarded items returned them into position upon his coat, stroking as he admired his precious ones. He took a look at the spectacles within their hands. “If yer too good for my wares, return those and be on yer way”. The man considered for a moment, as they were still interested in those, despite wanting to see the good stuff. “yer not foolin’ me, yer tryin’ to get those on the cheap”. He gave them a very wide smile. “One Magus!”

Silas scowled at the fraud, and turned on his heel. He gripped Ahrora's arm, gently tapping two fingers onto her palm in the process.

Before they could make it to the end of the alley Ahrora jerked free from him and stamped a foot in a dramatic display to capture both men's attention.

"But darling" She whined, "you promised me something pretty and rare." She reached for the spectacles and clumsily placed them over her eyepatch. "They're far to fetching on me to leave behind-"

As Ahrora continued her performance, Silas reached with his kinetic magic into the grifter's coat, attempting to free one of the bracelets that looked to be made of something more than mere cut glass, and land it into his own pocket.

Except he pulls too hard and fast and the man lets out a yelp, grabbing onto his coat tightly. “Now yer’ tryna mug me! Ought to call the guards on you!”

Silas scowled, and prepared to argue with the miscreant before being cut off by the bell warning for match start before he could open his mouth. Instead he sighed and offered the man the requested magus. “Enough, then take it and go.”

"Hah, found them in yer trash". He slicked his hair back before going off to spend his new found fortune.

Ahrora removed and handed the over-priced purchase to Silas as they left the alley “Useless junk,” she confirmed “can’t see a damned thing.”

“Won’t make a difference to me,” He replied and began slipping them on, “but what could be the point of them?”.

For a moment, it was as Ahrora said, a complete disappointment. But what else had he really expected?

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The scream is torn out ot him, as for the first time in years, Silas saw, and it was horror. Terrors beyond comprehension stared back in the unending abyss the lenses led too. Energy too, unending and infinite. With shaking hands, he reached to remove the spectacles, but they held fast. There was something. Something which was ought to be left unseen. For a moment he could hear himself still screaming, feel himself ripping at his face, and knew he was going mad.

“What… did you see?”

He was blind again, the energy of Ahrora standing over him, glasses in hand and no monsters to be found.

A Night Under the Stars

Ahrora was late for their meeting. Not that Silas was particularly aware of it; he was no expert in keeping time himself, and had spent the better part of the afternoon scrambling together the final pieces of their planned night together. It didn’t look much; a blanket spread over the field south of Millner's hook was a location chosen for privacy and view rather than to impress. That was left to the contents of the homely chipped pitchers and plates; some of the finest wine and cheese in Constansia, found during the day’s event.

When she did arrive, it was easy to notice her coming. Few were outside the city outskirts with them, but Silas remained facing away until she called to him.

"Help me carry this wont you?" She had a box in her arms, the weight of it awkwardly distributed and slipping as she walked over the uneven terrain. Silas was on his feet in a moment.

"I'll try not to peek," He joked, lifting the box as she groaned. There was no need to open to tell that inside was the prime shot she'd stolen from him, a book, and two small and warm bread rolls, made from soft white flour. "Thought this would be so boring you brought a book?" He bemoaned.

"Hardly. Took it as an excuse to get away." She followed him to the small picnic he'd made. "Bohrom kept nagging to go to see the Retanesse girls perform, had to pull some tricks to shake him." She sighed, lowering herself to the blanket. Silas handed her a mug and poured her wine from a clay pitcher.

"I'll try to make it worth your while," He grinned back.

They began by talking of the events of the day, their matches of Roses and Neskals. He told her the adventures he’d had, getting the wine, Margot and her new ship. Ahrora explained the events that lead her team to finals, followed by playful needling of him for eventually pushing them out of the game. “Damn smart getting those statues first,” She finished, shaking her head and taking a sip of wine. “Could’ve used the extra roses.”

Silas shrugged and followed her in sipping his drink. He was tired of talking of the trials, nearly of the games themselves. It all felt wrong, a disingenuous celebration while the world was crumbling everywhere else. “What will you do when you return home a champion?” He asked instead.

She turned to look at him, head tilted slightly in consideration. “Don’t think anyone from back home would know enough to care. Will be mighty impressed with the riches we’ll be bringing back though. When we win.” She finished the last sentence with a choke of laughter.

“When we win.” He repeated, sipping again to hide just how wide his grin had gotten. “What is your home like?”

Ahrora hesitated again. “Small, I’m realizing.” Silas could feel her stiffen. “I thought differently before. But looking at it from here I can see it; small, backwards, and insignificant.”

Silas nodded in understanding, silently reflecting on his own first time outside of Ersand’Enise. The girl’s mild distress wasn’t noticed in time before she moved close enough for their knees to touch.

“I do want to visit again,” She spoke so quietly, Silas found himself leaning closer to hear.

“You’ll be able to, they’ll open portals and we’ll be able to come and go as we please. Could even-” He was talking so excitedly it wasn’t until Ahrora’s mouth was at his lips that it dawned on Silas to stop. She pressed her body with hard enough force against his to push him backwards onto the blanket and uneven ground underneath. But her mouth was open and warm enough to make him forget the discomfort- and when he faced up to the sky, Silas swore he could see the stars.

Ahrora Babayeva

It wasn’t in Ahrora’s nature to apologize. Even in the rare occasions she might have felt it was owed, it was always easier to forget and move on. Forgiveness required too much dwelling. But there wasn’t really much chance for blowing past her most recent mistake she realized when approaching Silas’s window in the Castle. The young boy was there, circling the room with haste that only slowed to inspect the various piles of clutter scattered as small islands throughout. The large jacket usually covering his small frame was on the lower bunk, looking worse than usual. He’d torn the lining open. An unfamiliar sensation of guilt twisted deep in Ahrora’s stomach and the urge to flee and abandon any previously considered plans entirely.

Foolish of course, to think she could do so unnoticed around a powegazer. No sooner did she turn from it than the window creaked open. “Came all this way and not going to say hello?”

“You should take better care of your things.”

He took the letter silently, and Ahrora flinched at the action and her own words.

“I hadn’t- I didn’t mean..” She paused, hoping for some interruption. A sly smile or anything to bring back the casual levity that’d come so easily only a few hours before. Silas remained stubbornly impassive.

It was too much, in the end she became desperate enough to end the silence it all came spilling out at once; “I meant it to be a little game, thought it was a from an old sweetheart or maybe from that Kerrimand girl you met yesterday-” Her face flushed with brilliant heat at the confession, but the words kept coming. “Hells, I’m sorry Silas. I did stop once I realized it was your mother, I swear.”

“What did it say?” He finally spoke, very quietly. Ahrora blinked back, too stunned to reply instantly. “You haven’t…?” She managed to stop herself. How would he have read it? Slowly she withdrew her hand, still holding the letter, and opened it.

Silas

My prayers that this letter reaches you, a thousand more that you are well.

It pains to say, but stay away from home. Many have come looking, your friends; the Balzzagic boy and the over-fed young one. Moriff came and made stir enough to for me to send word of warning. Stay away.

Keep safe Silas, grow to be good. Do not worry for me, all is well here.

All my love, always,

You mother, Aleshta Rieger.

Her reading was slow and clumsy with the unfamiliar language but Silas remained patient and silent the entire time. It was short, and written and in a neat and clear hand; aside from the signature, which was barely legible and oversized. A paid scribe had written the note, how many other curious eyes had read it before hers? More questions itched, but she remained uncomfortably still on her self-made perch outside the window.

“You should come inside,” Silas offered a hand to bridge the gap between them. She took it, but he moved away from her the moment she stepped inside, pulling the letter back with him as he did so.

“We’ve changed plans for today.”

Ahrora flexed her hands, hoping his limited sight couldn’t see her eye flickering about the room, taking in the mess, bed, and various possessions. “What plans?”

“For the trail, if we match.”

“Right. Thin air. Forked tower.” Part of her knew it was wrong to let this pass- it hadn’t been a proper apology. But the slow return of a familiar grin to Silas’ face was more than enough to silence what little conscience she had. Ahrora moved to the bed, casually shifting the torn coat and taking it place on the mattress.

“Think we’ve come up with a way to get higher.” He replied, taking a seat next to her.

---

Net summary of mad gains

• Eight hundred Neskals
• Large cask of Bernieres Red
• Port-Bernières Blanc Royal ASZ44: HALF a 72-pound wheel (36lbs) of the world's rarest and most valuable cheese, aged for two centuries. Deliciously tangy and piquant, with a slight nutty flavour, instantly elevates any dish. Sells for Ỽ4/lb.
• two kegs of Whetmelon Wine, a Mycormish favourite and almost impossible to get outside of yasoi lands
• Two crates of Yasoi racing snails, one two of the 10 have decent worth/value, and the rest purely decorative or nutritional.
• VOID Goggles: when focused upon with temporal or dark energy, allow the user to peer into the VOID. Amount seen depends on skill level.
• One remaining prime shot

[Echotech71]

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Niallus and Maura

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Location:. Outside the Auction house.

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Big thank you @Ti for this little banter.

The auction had not long come to a close, all the young participants were collecting the items that they bid on in exchange for their hard-earned magi. Niallus managed to get two items. As Niallus looks around, it seems the other members of his team have already left the auction house, no doubt to celebrate on how well they did finish second. "Guess those guys couldn't wait, so impatient. After all, it was well-earned" As more people that won prizes left the building, a familiar face with a wheelchair came out. It was Maura. He shouts her name to get her attention, followed by a polite wave to her.

Maura was caught by surprise as Niallus called out after her, and after making her excuses with the others, she made a moment to be with him as she rolled across and approached. “Here we are, simultaneously the richest and poorest in my life on the same day.” as she gave him a playful smile as she showcased the events of the day. The side of her mouth raised into a slight smirk, “Been getting some very dark looks from your girlfriend, she is not happy. Let her know it is not personal, only business. She cannot walk out with the entire auction, after all”. She adopted a warmer smile as she held out her hand towards him, “Congratulations on coming second”

Niallus gives a little chuckle from Maura's little joke. "Such is life, you make money, then you lose it." he accepts her hand that she put out towards him, giving it a little shake. "Yeah, we did really well. We were practically the underdogs throughout the entire competition. We're really close to winning, too." A little bit of a competitive tone came out. Then Niallus tilts his head based on what Maura said before, "Girlfriend? What Girlfriend?" with a confused look on his face, wondering what Maura was talking about.

She smiled rather mischievously at the comment, “We misunderstood those puppy-dog eyes of yours, ignore it.” waved her hand dismissively as she returned to the previous comment. “People weren’t expecting a second-rate team to win, so they were too eager to dismiss us as we took advantage of their ignorance. Too busy targeting Jocasta rather than… her second rate stand-in” a previous reference to a heated barbed comment the Eskand boy made. “Either way, we have everyone's attention and focus. What are your plans now?”

Feeling like he missed whatever she was talking about, he just shrugged his shoulders. He nods in agreement with what she was saying. Even when she stopped talking because she seemed to sound competitive. He gives her a soft smile. He thought Maura was a person who did it by the book sort of girl. "You're right, because of this we are going to have huge targets on our backs. We'll need to be vigilant, so we don't get blind sided by someone. He gives it a little thought about what she said about him having plans? "I…I honestly have no idea what to do, I guess I'll head back home. My Grandfather wants to train me some more, but he didn't say what." looking at her, '' What about yourself? Do you have any ideas of what you want to do?" He was a little curious about what her answer would be?

“So your old man wants to pass on his wisdom? You should listen closely and pay your respects. You will regret it if you don’t.” she brushed a hand through her hair as she released a soft sigh, then putting on a braver smile “Sometimes you don’t know what you have until you lose it”. Maura imagined that his old-man may have been feeling the burden of his years upon him, and felt pressured to part with his wisdom. A rather warm image, though such actions could become oppressing without context.

She pondered for a moment as she considered her plans, “My road leads me to Callanst, most likely. Got to set up a bunch of stuff with these new territories. Trying to decide if we should go on two separate journeys or attempt to circumvent the world”. She ponders a moment, given the timings of the semester break, such a feat is most unlikely to occur. “A girl can dream, right?” she offered him a bright smile. Callanst is the future, a continent rich in opportunities ready to be exploited, and she is going to make it her goal to be one of the first major players there, and with Gaskum and Longwan, she has footholds on either side of the continent, she is in prime position to reap the rewards.

Niallus nods in agreement to her statement, with a smile "Dreams are a good thing, sometimes they can help us push forward. I'm sure you'll be able to achieve it. After all, you've proven that you can determine if you put your mind to it." he was unsure if his advice would be helpful. "But back to your other thing you said, about my Grandfather." his voice becomes sincere. “Honestly, I owe everything to my Grandfather. While my parents were away, he was the one who helped me control my magic. Without the proper training, my magic is extremely dangerous to others around me.” looking back at her, curious about what she meant about the statement about not getting another chance. “Did you get to know your Grandparents?”

Maura simply smiled in a warm and playful manner, “This one dreams big, so you better watch out, Niallus!” finishing in a faux menacing giggle with her hand over her mouth in a coy manner. “It is refreshing to see someone have such faith in my abilities. Usually have to spend my time attempting to convincing people that we are not a frail wallflower that should be seen but not heard, and the other half who thinks this one should not been seen at all.”

At his question, she simply swirled a few strands of her hair, “Let’s say ‘It's complicated’ for my situation. My mother died during childbirth and her parents blamed me. My grandmother on my father’s side was amazing, but she died of the cangrejo disease when we were only five. However, Tío y Tía, Uncle Juan and my Aunty Bella were big on family and played a big part. He died of the cangrejo disease when papá and myself were on the Horseshoe. We had an argument before we left, a silly one, there wasn’t an opportunity to make amends. Tía reassured me that he forgave and forgot long ago.”

That statement she made about dreaming big, seems like she has big goals. “That's good then. Hopefully you'll be able to achieve them.” the only thing that made him curious, was that giggle of hers.

She wasn't kidding about it being complicated. Niallus kinda felt bad asking her about her family. “I'm sorry, If you didn't feel comfortable, you didn't have to tell me. It mustn't have been easy for you to discuss family matters like that to more or less a stranger.” smiling at her. He wasn't going to say that he understood how she felt, when he clearly didn't. He barely had family as it was. "Anything else you want to talk about? Or do?” sitting down on a nearby seat.

Maura tucked the strands of her hair back behind her ear as she tilted her head to the side as she offered him a soft smile, “It is the custom in Varrahasta that if you ask a girl for their time, you reward them with a sweet treat at a food vendor.” she blushed as she dropped the hint. “Zenobucks should be nearby. We heard from a friend that they are starting to sell Macarons now.” She shifts in her chair as she sets it in motion, starting to slowly move away. “Are you coming~?”

Not wanting to be left behind, he gets up to catch up with Maura. “Sure, a Zenobucks sounds good.” Walking with Maura. “Thanks for that insight, Maura. However, we aren't in Varrahasta. If we were, I might have, but we aren't.” with a slight snark tone complete with a mischievous grin.

She raised an eyebrow at the comment, “We sometimes forget you are a barbarian from a backwards land who communicate via grunts and clubs.” closing one eye as she peered up with the other, her own mischievous grin is wider. “That can be corrected, naturally. First thing when out with a girl is that you escort her by taking her arm, though circumstances permitting, a hand shall do.” she raises a hand towards Niallus to take. “If it starts to rain, you carry the umbrella for the both of us, and the priority is to prevent it falling on me.”

Niallus shakes his head with a smile from Maura's explanation and her remarks on what he should do, as well as Eskand culture. Playing along, he takes her hand. “But milady, how would I be able to carry my club if I'm holding your hand.” with a smirk on his face. “But I'm so glad that you used small words, so my backwards brain can understand. If not, you might have had to use grunts for me to understand.” trying his hardest to not burst out laughing. It seems he's starting to get along with Maura, even though to some people it doesn't look like it. She has a sarcastic charm to her that he respects.

She simply smiles sweetly, “That is permissible. You shall leave it at your cave whilst we work upon your etiquette and your pronunciation. You may order an ‘Ayla’, a coffee with milk and honey, and a Macaroon. Likewise, you then may order something you desire, then pay the friendly vendor with a polite thank you.” She squeezed upon his fingers as they start to approach the vendor. “Time to put this into practice.” as she turned to flutter her eyelashes towards him in an encouraging manner.

Feeling her squeezing his fingers, she's really getting into this, or she could be nervous, it's hard to tell. Listening to her "instructions" on how to order something appropriately, the fluttering eyelashes were a bit much. Approaching the vendor, Maura's grip on his hand more tightly, then softer. He clears his throat “Good evening, Can I order two 'Ayla' coffee's with honey and milk, and two portions of macarons please.” the vendor nods, instructing them that it'll take a while for his order to be made. So they offer Niallus and Maura a table while they wait. “Did that meet your standards?” he said to Maura with a smile. He also wondered how long she was going to hold his hand, if it's any longer, this will feel more like a date.

“You know, it will be difficult to eat with one hand, you are free to let go.” she smirked toward him as she teased, not releasing a hold upon his hand as she drank from the coffee cup then placed it upon the table as she helped herself to a delicious looking pink macaroon with her free hand. “What are your plans after the academy? Plan to return home, stay and become a Tan-Zeno, or put down some roots elsewhere?”

“That's fair.” at first, it seemed that Maura didn't want to let go of his hand, he eventually did. Taking a quick sip of his coffee, then takes a bite out of a macaroon. He wonders about what he'd do after the academy. “I'm not really sure what I want to do after the academy. I mean, I thought about being the head of my family. There are a few things I want, however it'll mostly come down to if I can survive. I might settle down, no idea who I'd settle down with.” he takes another sip of his coffee. “what about you, what are your goals after the academy. Are you going back home to settle down with someone?”

Maura simply puts on a sweet smile as Niallus let go of her hand, and distracts herself by savouring her macarons, which were definitely the visit by themselves. The answer to the question was a simple one, “We are going to create what will be a successful trading company with a ship in every port, amigo. Then you would never get away from my influence.” she adopted a faux-menacing tone as she finished off the treat playfully. Easily softening as within a moment, “gracias, this was a nice relaxing distraction.”

He smiles at her. “de nada, I'm glad that this was able to help you.” he takes a bite of a macaroon. Thinking about what she mentioned, he was intrigued by her new trading company. “Oh, your family is starting a new trading company, with a ship in every dock. That's cool. Can I ask what your family sells?” taking another sip from his coffee. If this deal does go through for these ships. There'll definitely be no escape from her family's influence.

She raised an eyebrow at the reply in her surprise, “¿Hablas Torragònese?” She moved on to address his question. “If by family, you mean me, si. Need to protect my Callansti interests, and Ersand’Enise does offer some very favourable rates. Will take time, but that is my goal, using my ships to bring the world together, where we can freely trade and share many pleasures which would simply be unattainable” after her speech, she placed the empty plate and cup upon the table, “As for the family business, they provide transport along the Horseshoe trading route, primarily shipping Terracotta, Cattle, Spices, and Horses from Torragon and returning with goods from around the twin-continents.”

Maura pushes herself away from the table and twists the chair toward Niallus. “However, it is growing late. So it is time for a lady to depart. See you again in our Zeno class, we have a busy year ahead of us.” offered her hand out towards Niallus as she bids him goodbye.

Looking at the time on his pocket watch, she was right, it was rather late. He grabs what's left of his macaroon.“Maura, wait.” getting up to follow her. “If you are wanting to go, please allow this backwards barbarian to escort you back to your dorm as a thank you for your time.” he says with a warm smile, with a little bow. Then he offered to take her hand again.

She smiled warmly as Niallus was being a gentleman towards her, “For a barbarian, you are not so bad. Just don’t forget your club, how else can you communicate with the others of your kind without it.” she winked towards him in an obvious tease, and allowed him to escort her back.

[Suicharte]

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Event: The night of the aberration apocalypse and the assassination of Hugo Hunghorasz. | Characters: Yuliya, Zarina @YummyYummy

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Chaos had taken the city. So many had died, and even more succumbed to terrible ailments. The black sky of the night was tainted with the orange mark of the flames that lingered in some of the buildings that hadn’t been tended to yet. Most of it was under control, or so that’s what the authorities wanted the confused and ill-informed masses to believe. In truth, the greatest defence of the many was gone, and many were now unknowingly going to be the cogs of a changing world, whether they wanted to or not. It would be overwhelming if anyone could have seen what Yuliya had seen.

Zarina was patiently waiting for the young Sanguinaire’s return to her quarters, which were adjacent to the Virangish’s own. Back against the wall with the same-faced coin being continuously flipped and caught. She definitely was trying to have style here, but her dishevelled look and the lingering smell of fish-guts that couldn’t be easily removed even with good magic somewhat put a wrench in her introduction. Nonetheless, she shot a half-lidded glance toward Yuliya and forced a small smile, “You survived.” she went straight to the point, “I was worried. So was Nibbler.” he was not with her.

By the time she got back to her dorm, she was not the same person as when she had left. Yuliya had a lot on her mind, both from the day and the night that she had experienced. Obscene acts of magic, reality warping, strange fishes and witnessing the strongest beings from around the globe clashing, not to mention the death of the paradigm. And while her emotions were normally in control, she was at breaking point. Stress, anger, fear and sadness swirled around her mind like a vortex, but when she saw her friend standing beside her door, trying to put on a brave face, it made it go away for a second. She couldn’t help crack a small smile herself, but it quickly faded following what Zarina said. ”Survived? We both did. Today was crazy. Like lednikrayva, but without drink.” she spoke as confidently as she could muster, but her voice was trembling and to be frank, she didn’t know why she was attempting to hide it. There was a part of her that knew Zarina knew, and she just wanted this formality to be over with. But to spill the beans herself, after what she saw. If the mind reading monster that was Hugo could be felled, who knew who was listening? Who knew whether they’d be instantly smitten for talking about what happened. To be frank, she was terrified.

“We did.” Zarina nodded, going along with Yuliya’s misdirection,“We can consider ourselves lucky, I guess.” there were more students that walked through the halls of the dormitory, prompting Zazzy to gesture toward the door, “Mind if I come in? There is something we need to discuss.” the softness of her tone wasn’t undermining the solemnity of her words. Whatever Zarina had in mind, it was serious.

”Sure. My room messy right now. Don’t judge me.” she spoke, unlocking the door. And indeed it was a state. There were clothes scattered, books all over the place and nary a free spot to sit down, save for the bed and the chair stationed at the corner desk. She waited for Zarina to walk in, before shutting it quickly behind them, locking up the latch in a panic and putting a sound dampening bubble around the room, like she was escaping from a pursuer, except, she wasn’t. She was just talking to her friend, but she couldn’t make herself act naturally. Not now. She was still on edge. She barely mustered the strength to speak once more. ”So, what we discussing?”

Yuliya’s mannerisms, uncharacteristic and conspicuous as they were, did not fly over Zarina’s head. No, they were actually expected to an extent, although there seemed to be something off. When the Sanguinaire turned to address Zarina, the latter tilted her head slightly, chin raised just a tad as if she was indeed judging Yuliya. On what remained unclear for the blonde, “I won’t mess with you or be polite about things, I respect you enough to skip all that.” she seized the corner chair and took a seat, legs open with her hands clasped between them as she leaned forward, “You felt something invigorating you when they tried to hurt you, right?” before Yuli had a chance to even try an answer, Zarina continued, “Nibbler looked out for you. I guess he does remember what happened in the forest. Did you know it was him that was aiding you?”

Yuliya looked uncomfortably around the room. Incredibly so. She couldn’t hide it anymore. She knew. She’d practically admitted it. So what was there left to hide. She closed her eyes and counted to three, taking a couple deep breaths and leaving the room in a moment of silence, before heading over and sitting on her bed. ”I didn’t know it was him. I never saw him. I guess I owe him. He might have saved my life.” she spoke, looking at Zarina. She wanted to trust her, but she had wanted to trust Augusto and that had turned horribly. She hoped, prayed, that Zarina wouldn’t betray her trust in the same way. Her gaze met hers before she spoke once more, ”But, where were you? You two like peas in pod.”

With confirmation that it was her, Zarina’s tilted head straightened itself. She let out a light exhale from her nostrils as she nodded. Then, she whistled, prompting Yuli’s Raspberry dragon to emerge from whatever clothing den it had made itself and trot its fat body over to her and meet her presented hand for a pet. She had trained this thing, after all, “With Marci, behind the pack of angry Eskandish.” he answers without hesitation, “I did not know it was you until after our teammate got rid of us all.” her eyes briefly shifted toward Yuli’s distressed being and then returned to the animal she was caressing, “But, I don’t think I would have connected it if it weren’t for what Ingrid and her Southern brethren’s had to say about the ‘Sanguinaire’ that attacked the twins.” again, she nodded and just slowly raised her eyes without moving her head, staring right at the identified bloodsucker, “They’ll figure out it’s you soon, Yuli. Do you know what you’re going to do?”

Yuliya sighed in relief. It was over. The tension was gone and the cat was out of the bag. IF anyone found out, she was glad it was Zarina. Because if she couldn’t trust her, then who could she really? The best friend she’d made since arriving. She cast aside her doubt and regained her composure, before letting out a bit of a grin.”You’re too smart for your own good.” Zarina snorted, “A dormouse figured it out before me. Please. I usually act before thinking. Hence-” she opened her arms to illustrate her presence in the den of a Sanguinaire, alone and exposed. ”You think I would hurt you?” Zarina shrugged, “Maybe. I hope you don’t. I’ve hurt people for petty things before. And this is a big deal. But if it reassures you, I’m not here to harm you, or take advantage.”Yuliya rose from her bead, and looked at Zarina, unblinking. A couple of seconds passed, silence hanging in the air before she began to walk toward her without saying a word. And in a moment, she wrapped her arms around the seated girl, barely having the height advantage while Zarina was sitting down. ”You promise?” she sniffled slightly, attempting to hold back tears. Today was too much. She didn’t have any strength left to hide behind.

Zaz flinched as Yuliya approached. For all this strength and stoicism she was displaying, the Vossoriyan enigma remained a genuine threat. One that took down twins that were definitely not weak. Her entire body clenched up, but then came the hug. She could hear Zarina’s heart racing - she was surprised by all of it. If only she knew just how much this terrified Yuli had gone through, she’d understand far more, but as it stood she believed the Eskandish mob were the cause of her pain, “Yes. I promise.” she hushed herself into a whisper, idle hands slowly lowering themselves to caress her blonde hair and the middle of her back, “Did you hurt them?”

Yuli suppressed a sob. She wanted to grab on tight, but she stopped herself. She could feel Zarina’s heartbeat, she was obviously scared. Yet, she did not push her away. Zarina trusted her. And that meant the world to her right now. ”Yes. But I spare them. It was after roses and neskals. I was pissed off and hungry. Are you friends? I don’t mean to hunt your friends.” she let go of the embrace and looked Zarina in the eye, still remaining close. ”You know what I am? What sanguinaire is? Or only stories?” she spoke the clearest she had all night, her eyes still slightly damp.

“Not friends but-” Zarina pursed her lips and peered to the side, “They’re close enough to Marci. Which makes this a problem. But not the main problem.” both hands rested upon Yuli’s shoulders, and slowly the Sanguinaire was pushed back. Not in a shove, but so they could actually look at one-another when talking, “I’ve only heard stories, and the stray ‘hunts’ going on here and there. That’s it.” she idly reached down to the red little dragon that was put on standby and hoisted her up onto the Zazzy-lap for extra pets, “You’re going to need one hell of an alibi.”

She frowned slightly. ”I don’t think it’s possible now.” She would not hide the truth. It was pointless. ”I… I would have killed them tonight. They chased me, and I had plan. I lure them into warehouse, and I was going to use this .” she placed a hand in her pocket and out emerged the magic dampener. Zarina chuckled at the sight of the box, “Well shit, glad I’m such a great inspiration.” a bit of the sauciness added to the otherwise outrageous confession. Still, it sounded like kill or be killed. A notion Zarina was unfortunately familiar with, even if she wasn’t a murderer. ”I switched it on for second, but something happen tonight. Something big. Augusto stopped it, and then, and then..” she couldn’t help it anymore. She looked at the floor, trying to resist the urge to cry, but it was pointless. Why did Zarina have to see her like this? She hated it. All she wanted right now was to be home, in her own bedroom, but she was here, vulnerable, sobbing like a child in front of one of her only friends.

She mustered the strength to talk after a few seconds, and what followed was a tear filled rendition of what had happened prior to her arrival here. Down to every grisly detail, Zarina learned about the death of Hugo Hunghorasz, the perpetrators and the involved parties, and how Yuliya had been completely and utterly powerless to do anything. Both Zarina and Kalyna stared at her wide-eyed, overwhelmed for completely different reasons. “Uhm.” Zarina blinked, “What?” what did she get herself into? “So wait, Augusto’s not dead? But Hugo Hun- The Twice Paradigm, is dead?” she needed a moment to process it, “Killed by guys in masks and …” she retreated back a little, sat straight on her seat, “Karan and your Kin?””Yes, Augusto and his sister too. They use me as bait. But now, they know… I took the box as reward, and if you figure out, then is only a matter of time.” the tears had stopped and mild distress had taken its place. She knew blatant murder was off the table now. Yuliya knew Zazzy enough for that at least.

Zarina’s head lowered a tad with her head shaking, not in a manner that said ‘no’ but instead it was as if she was ‘reading’ everything she was told. It felt made up, and yet Augusto’s flex of power barely an hour ago made this feel all too possible. Then a quick shake followed, snapping her out of the daze, “Right. Let’s just- Yeah, focus on that. You.” her hands come together for a single clap, and with that her thoughts were straightened into a realm she had a better grasp of, “These people, Augusto, Karan, and whatever else, nothing we can do about them. But if they wanted to get rid of you, they’d do it easily themselves.” now that this was established, she considered the active problem, eyes fixated on some discarded clothes - not that they were particularly thought-provoking, she just look at anything too distressing, and Yuli was stress incarnate, “The Eskandish. We gotta clear your name.” she glared at her friend, “And keep it clean afterward.”

Kalyna was put down so that Zarina could stand. Pacing helped her think. “You were with me during Roses and Neskals, after the grand celebration. There were loads of people. I’m sure someone can be greased up to back up my claim.” she wagged her index finger when she announced her simple plan, “Claim you were here recovering from an aberration headache. No real proof you weren’t.” the sombrero was nearly stomped by Zarina, but she did pause to seize it and set it right, “... Why do you drink people, Yuliya?” she inquired all of a sudden, arms crossed without looking at her friend.

”Because I have to. If I don’t drink, I shrivel up and die. My father… after the death of my mother… he stopped drink. He grew old, and feeble. I don’t think he has long left. ” she spoke somewhat wistfully. She had admitted more in the span of this conversation than she had to anyone her entire life. It was both refreshing and exhausting.

Zarina nodded, “You need it. And you gotta take it.” she then shrugged, “Why not just drink from someone that won’t get pissed? Like, another one like you?” a brow was raised, but she took a while to realise the position she could be putting herself into, “Actually, I can’t think of anybody who would want to.” hands on her hips and lips pursed, she shook her head, “Okay, I get it, your situation sucks.” Yuli pouted, just a little. It wasn’t that bad. At least, to her, all she had to do was find some unsuspecting sucker and knock 'em out and life was easy. ”It not so bad. It makes me strong. Like you. You remember our arm wrestle? Normal person shouldn’t be able to win, but I suppose you are different.”

For the second time, Zarina flinched, but this time by Yuliya’s words and not her actions. Did she know? Zazzy’s own dirty little secret was still up there, so easy to sniff out and eventually a truth she couldn’t hide, “Different? Ehhh, too angry to lose is more like it.” she feigned confidence with her arms crossed under her chest, “Anyway.” she was quick to divert the subject, “Stick to the story. And you find a new method. Too much fucking around, and now you’re finding out.” Yuliya pouted once more. ”Zazzy.” she spoke, more serious this time. ”I know what you are.” Zarina didn’t stop, “Huh? What? So- You’re gonna have to probably spread out your hunts …” at this point it was pretty obvious she was being avoidant, Yuliya was done being sad at this point. She was irritated. Here she sat, bawling her eyes out and opening up and yet her friend didn’t want to talk. Could she trust no-one? ”You think I care about what you are? We are friends! Do you even know yourself?” she spoke accusingly.

“That’s right.” Zarina responded to what can be best described as aggressively. It was quick, dry and came with a scowl, “I don’t fucking know. I mean, I know, but I don’t.” the Virangish wildblood extended her arms and then let them drop to slap against her sides, “That day- it feels like a dream, Yuli. It doesn’t feel real.” pacifying gestures were abundant, her forehead started to sweat intensely, “It’s called Wildblood. And it’s tied to the moons. And it hurts. That’s it. I’m going to that Tower to learn more than these three things.”

”Zazzy. You help me, I help you. What you know is right, but there is more. What happen that day? Did animal bite you? This matters a lot. ” Yuli spoke softly and sternly to her friend. She couldn’t help feel sorry for the predicament her friend was in. She’d been burdening her, sobbing and causing a scene while her friend had been going through so much. She had the privilege of knowing what she was from the days of her childhood, but Zarina did not. And it would take time before she would become accustomed to the price of the power she now had.

There it was, the big question one couldn’t simply answer. Zarina clicked her tongue and kept a conspicuous silent linger in the air. Both her hands were now on her hips and the pacing had ceased, “It was-” another pause. Her eye itched and her left hand couldn’t help but scratch. The horrid memories were resurfacing, the monster they had unleashed to the world and what it had done to her. There was no doubt about it. “A Sand Wyrm. Met one after the race and it got a bit too close and personal, I guess.” her jaw shifted from side to side as she eventually made eye contact with the blonde again. ”Ah. They are big, strong creature. Explain why you hit like truck now.” she scratched her head slightly.”Now, about moons. I’m sure you notice, but the more moons, the more symptoms appear. Just like I need alibi, you need plan for when there is 5. Someone strong to deal with you. Jocasta maybe? Do you think you can trust her? ”

Crisis averted, somewhat. Perhaps, by a stroke of luck, this lie was actually the truth. She was beginning to convince herself of it, anyway. Zarina’s entire figure relaxed a little more and she nodded, “Yeah, One le-” she closed her eyes and cleared her throat, “I mean, Penny told me, yeah. She knows, too. Figured it out when I got a bit too spicy.” Now comes the plan. Zarina paced toward the messy nearby bed and took a seat once more, supporting herself with her arms extended behind her, “Yeah, I thought of something like that. Jo’s powers might be best.” she nodded, “I trust her, anyway.”

”With your life?” Yuli asked, rather seriously at this point. Her knowledge of this subject was mostly from word of mouth and books, but what she had heard about the wildbloods indicated that being on 5 moons required a degree of care, especially if it was something as dangerous as a royal sandworm hybrid. “Bit dramatic, no?” Zaz raised a brow, “I trust her to do things well and what she’s gotta do.” she twisted her body a tad to allow her to point towards Yuli, “I trust you to not let her kill me when the time comes, though.”

”I got you, and you got me. Not bad arrangement.” she spoke, as she shuffled around the room looking for something. Moments later, she found what she was looking for. Something she’d been saving from back home, a bottle of rather expensive Vossoriyan vodka. She’d been saving it for a party, but a night like this called for something to cut loose a bit. ”I was saving this for special occasion, but tonight sucked and I kinda wanna forget it. You in?” she spoke, uncorking the bottle and pouring two shots onto the desk.

A tempting offer, one that would conflict most Hexaics. There were actually many temptations beckoning Zarina, tugging her further away from the tenants she had once held dear, almost zealously so. Yuliya was right, this day was sucky and the entire trials were life changing to a few, including Zaz. There was almost no hesitation in the thumbs up she’d give her Vossoriyan friend once the booze was out, “Looks like water. What is this shit?” she gestured for one to be passed, clearly unwilling to get her rear off the comfy bedside.”Specialty from my country. It strong. Be careful.” Yuli spoke as she passed her the shot. Never in her life did she think she would be serving another person drinks, but alas, here she was. It made her chuckle to herself slightly as she grabbed the other one and gulped it down. It tasted like home. A memory she very much needed right now.

“Hmmm.” Zarina pinched her shot glass with thumb and index finger, eyeing it while Yuliya took in her first. Keen on participating in this party, Zazzy imitated the method, only to regret it almost instantly, “Oh fuck.” first came a light cough, “Awh FUCK!” then came the coughing fits, “What is this poison? BLAUGH!” she didn’t vomit, but she sure sounded like she was about to. She then presented her glass for a second, “You just swallow it. Got it. Ugh.”

Yuli almost burst into a laughing fit as she watched how Zarina handled it, barely calming herself down by the time the glass was presented for the second. She may have been weak of body, but she was not weak of spirit that night. ”Hah! You are like me when I first try it! Not drink much before Zaz? I thought you handle prime shots well!” Zarina grimaced in a bout of petulance toward Yuli, “I’m not used to drinking piss-water, no. And this is piss water laced with toad vomit.” still, she took the shot and her reaction was about the same as the first, “Raaaahhh! At least the small people TRY to make it taste less shit.”Another chuckle escaped her lips, but she couldn’t deny she was slightly offended. ”It supposed to warm you up and get you drunk. Taste doesn’t matter. That’s for prenchies!”

“Guess I’m a pansy Prenchy, then.” cheers. Zarina withstood a staggering three shots before throwing the towel, and soon after the aforementioned heat really hit her. Not enough to start yammering about things that shouldn’t be mentioned, but enough to have her speak obnoxiously loudly and laugh for a good bit before potentially knocking herself out. Yuli had much more than her darhannic friend, but she was far more used to the substance than Zarina was, so it took a good deal before she surpassed her friends level of buzz. A fun conclusion to an otherwise horrifying night was had, and she too joined Zarina in the land of slumber in the girls first ever sleepover.