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"You can't possibly expect me to drink all this."

Hannah had brought a fishbowl to the group's table. It was filled with a bright red semi-translucent drink, and Makenna could smell the sugar in the concoction, something of a feat given the dizzying amount of alcohol.

"All yours baby-girl!" Cheered the blonde, pushing the over-sized glass directly in-front of Makenna and offering a wink. "Got them to make it just for you, figured you should get a little reminder of home on your first night of drinking. Southern spirit and all that." Hannah's usual barely detectable accent was played up to a degree of ridiculousness by the end of her speech, the girl was already near plastered and the night had barely begun.

"C'mon," Bemoaned another voice from another sashed bridesmaid. Jenny was plucking at the cheap plastic tiara on Makenna's head. "How else are we going to get you on stage?"

As though on cue the speakers above them gave out an ear splitting bow-out as the current karaoke participant attempted and failed to hit a note.

"God they're terrible," Jenny threw her head back laughing after she'd recovered enough to uncover her ears. "Please Kenna, we beg you- end our suffering."

"Please," She scoffed, though her face warmed from the indirect praise. "I'm certainly not going first- or alone."

It earned her an eyeroll and another push of the drink towards her. "As our beautiful bride commands- Shall we show her how it's done?" Hanna asked, offering a hand to Jenny and the pair worked their way to the stage.

The drink was sickeningly sweet, a hurricane, Hannah would call it later. A Mississippi novelty, Hannah told her upon returning. That alone might have been enough to dislike it. Makenna joined the idle chatter of the three remaining bridesmaids while the other two began a string of duets. They'd been feeding her drinks all night, and she'd given in more times than she'd expected. It was a devious and dirty trick, the way her entire bridal party worked as a group to queue up her favourite songs, topping off with tacky 80's power-ballads they knew her to be unable to resist.

So it was Makenna found herself in front of a bar filled with some fifty-odd people, microphone in hand and the first notes of I Have Nothing blaring out from behind her. She couldn't quite recall how she'd gotten there- nor was there time to think long on it before the lyrics began scrolling on the screen before her.

"Share my life-" The rancorous cheering from her table covered the bulk of the first entire verse. Four more straws had been added to the over sized drink, and they were making the most of it. For all the embarrassment that came with it, Makenna found confidence in the support of the others and began truly belting the chorus. A love ballad. It was a bit much, even for a bachelorette party, but it was Carson Makenna thought of as she sang, but her grandmother. Their many evenings over an old record player, memories of happy nostalgia easy to get lost in. She chalked it up to the delusion of alcohol, but it felt as though the entire audience had gone silent to listen to her.

"I have nothing, nothing- NOTHIN-" The final loud note before the end of the song- and the speakers blew out again. Reflexively Makenna buckled over to cover her ears, only to realize she
couldn't hear in the first place. The music had stopped, and when she looked up to the rest of the bar, she saw chaos. Half the furniture and people were blown clear across the room- and glass was everywhere. Under all the tables and a sea of the stuff behind the bar and under where the windows should have been. Dully, Makenna was aware of a damp warmness running down the sides of her neck before collapsing to the floor.


Location: Pacific Royal Collegiate & University, - Dundas Islands, Pacific Ocean
The Homecoming Trials #1.01: Where You Are

Interaction(s):
Previously: N/A

It wasn’t as though Makenna was unfamiliar custodial labour. Her first job had been washing out the back washrooms and kitchen of a greasy rest-stop on weekends. Except even after that experience she swore she’d never suffer through that indignity again. Now she found herself bent over the toilets of the women’s upstairs bathroom some six years later. She wasn’t even getting paid. Part of Makenna had wondered if her mother somehow interfered to ensure her daughter was assigned to nothing other than sanitation for the first entire month of classes. Of course such a feat would require the bitch to actually show an interest in Makenna’s academics, or worse still, acknowledge her existence in the first place. At least scrubbing proved a decent outlet for frustrations. She had enough to get rid of after all. As if the ever looming yet unseen monitoring of her mother wasn’t enough she had to worry about roommates, an entire cohort of wayward young adults, and some damned tedious sorting trial- as though the hours and hours of psych evaluations hadn’t told the board more than enough about each of them.

There wasn’t time to do much else besides shower and change before the assembly. Another pointless formality. All of them had been debriefed of the intake process half a dozen times over. She surveyed those around her as the foreign anthem played, making out the familiar faces of the intake house and decidedly avoiding eye contact with any she found. Most were younger, all immature as least as far as Makenna saw it. She’d worked hard to develop a respectable social circle in her old life; three of her bridesmaids were pursuing doctorates already- only pushed backwards into a rag-tag group of rejects.

As the ceremony ended a group of them began to… congeal together at the stadium exit. Makenna hurried past them without so much as a second glance. She could smell Calliope’s bougie perfume as she brushed her shoulder. Sharing a room with the brat was already testing the limit of her false politeness and cheer.

She managed to wait the entire trip back before checking her phone. She knew better than to expect anything; not that it did anything to quell the pathetic hope in her heart rising only to be crushed each time. Unthinkingly, her thumb pressed Carson’s name on the recently dialed screen, bracing for the too-familiar voicemail message.

Except it rang. Four full times, and just Makenna had begun to hold her breath, there was a pause in the tone.

“Hullo?” There was an awkward beat, where Makeena half expected the rest of the recording that failed to follow.

He picked up her slack; “Ken? Sorry I’ve missed your calls- that time difference is a real bitch.”

She’d hated the nickname since the moment he’d first said it on their third date. But it made her misty eye-ed to hear him say it after so long.

“It's me,” She manged to confirm before needing to clear her throat, and turning up the smile until it could be heard in her voice. “Been trying to get a hold of you for a couple days now. There’s this… Thing.” It was always awkward bringing up anything PRCU related, it was too close to all the things they’d put so much effort into avoiding. “An excursion, a sort of boot-camp I guess. Might get really busy-”

The other team blackjack members had caught up to her head-start and made their way back to the intake house. Calliope the first to trickle in, and closely followed by the pale Brit.

“Makes sense, think you’ll-”

“Sorry, I'm going to have to hang-up.” She said, suddenly intent to end the conversation before any of the others overhear details of her personal life. “I just wanted to say bye- but I should be able to slip in a call when we get there.”

There was another pause, this time from Carson. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve just gotta go for now. We’ll talk tonight. Promise?”

“You got it.” All the certainty of his delivery was voided by the hesitation that came before it. Not that there was anything she could do about that now.

“Love you,” She said as goodbye, her pleasant smile turned pinched but voice still jovial over the phone.

“You too.” Was his reply, and they both hung up.

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Student Magic Specializations


Start of Arc Four

❖ Silas Reiger: 0 2 2 0 4 0 0 0 0 0 0


Magnetic Arcane (+1) Binding (+2) Chemical Kinetic(+1) Atomic Blood Temporal Dark Command Primordial

Trials and Tribulations V















M A K E N N A C L O U T I E R - L E E D S
M A K E N N A C L O U T I E R - L E E D S
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"Call it obsessive... I consider myself thorough."
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▅▅▅▅▅▅ Y E A R B O O K P H O T O ▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅▅ Y E A R B O O K P H O T O ▅▅▅▅▅▅


▅▅▅▅▅ S T U D E N T S U M M A R Y ▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅ S T U D E N T S U M M A R Y ▅▅▅▅▅

Makenna Rose Cloutier-Leeds
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April 17th,2001 | 21 | American-Canadian
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Engaged | Female | Straight
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Lafayette | Louisiana | USA

P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E
P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S
M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S ▅▅▅▅▅▅

N O T E S
N O T E S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅


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S T U D E N T S Y N O P S I S
S T U D E N T S Y N O P S I S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

It was only eight months ago that Makenna was on top of the world: Attending an Ivy League school on full scholarship, engaged to the love of her life, and free of her less than respectable roots. Until the night of her bachelorette party, planned specifically the same time as her 21st birthday. Her friends had taken her for a night out in New Haven, eventually landing in a karaoke bar. During a particularly passionate rendition of Whitney Huston, Makenna's meta-gene decided to make itself known. The result was a lawsuit from the bar, suspension of her scholarship, indefinite postponement of the wedding, and annexation from both her new friends and southern family.

As each and every door she'd managed to pry open slammed shut, an opportunity came from the most unexpected of places. Makenna's mother, a woman she had no memory of on account of her running out before her daughter's second birthday. Jaida Leeds was a notable H.E.L.P.-affiliated Hyperhuman, and met Makenna's father while helping the state police in southern Louisiana track an especially dangerous hyperhuman during the early 2000's. The whirlwind romance and resulting child were not enough to keep a career-minded woman such as Jaida in a town like Lafayette. Makenna first balked at the idea of accepting and sort of aid from her estranged mother, but as the life she'd so carefully built for herself continued to crumble, she eventually packed her things and moved to enroll PRCU to make what she could of what was left.
A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S
A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

H Y P E R H U M A N A B I L I T Y || V O C A L P R O J E C T I O N
__PRIMARY CLASSIFICATION ||ESOTERIC
__SECONDARY CLASSIFICATION ||EXPULSIVE

Makenna has inhuman range, strength, and control of her voice. Her abilities allow her to create nearly any sound at any pitch or volume; ranging from those inaudible to humans, to voice mimicry, to intense sonic blasts strong enough to create a resulting kinetic force.

L I M I T A T I O N S ||T B D

For all her precision at normal vocal ranges, when using a powered 'sonic scream' as labeled in her student file she lacks any real control. On more than one occasion she has failed to produce the desired effect at all. Her mother and intake counselor quickly determined most of these shortcomings stem from Makenna's own nerves and reluctance to use her abilities at all.

W E A K N E S S E S ||T B D

The voice is Makenna's powerhouse, and easily limited. She has the potential to become completely nullified with a simple gag, or if her opponent has the forethought to wear a decent pair of earmuffs. Her own ears have no natural protection, so she always travels with multiple sets of earplugs to prevent damage.

S K I L L S & T A L E N T S
S K I L L S & T A L E N T S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

S K I L L || Affable

Moving from her lowly beginnings in the rural south to the upper echelons of Ivy League society has taught Makenna a lot of things about people. Most importantly how to fake it until it becomes real. She can wear nearly as many faces as she can voices, and while she prefers to play the part of the charming, proper lady of pedigree she can slip back into natural vernacular and behavior of her old life if the situation calls for it.

T A L E N T || Erudite

Makenna would call it a result of will and determination rather than innate talent, but there's no arguing that from an early she had a Midas touch. In each activity she joined in; from toddlers ballet to student council president, she didn't only thrive, but excelled. There was no magic involved of course, just an ungodly amount of effort. Every ounce of spare time Makenna has is spent studying, training, working, strategically socializing, or prepping for any of the four. As remarkable as her fastidiousness is, it can also be frightening, and calls to question how long she can feasibly keep it up.

________________________________________________________________________________________
P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Y O U A W A K E I N T H E D E A D O F N I G H T, W H A T W O K E Y O U?

Her phone, plugged in its appropriate place on a desk on the far side of her room. Makenna is up before the third note chimes. Another busy day ahead, and she doesn't have the time to dawdle. The morning routine that typically began for her at 5:30am was a well-enough practiced dance that the hour-early start made little difference. The night before she had portioned the ingredients for her smoothie, packed a gym bag, and picked her clothes. Her usually trip to the gym and workout routine had a notable extra pep in them. Makenna herself could hardly tell whether it was due to nerves or excitement. Carson was making the long-awaited journey across the entire continent to visit. The first one since Makenna's arrival. Everything would have to be perfect.

A D I S H E V E L E D S T R A N G E R A P P R O A C H E S Y O U A S K I N G F O R H E L P, H O W D O Y O U R E S P O N D?

Makenna kept her head down and muttered something barely audible about not having change. Her pace didn't quicken, nor did it slow to heed the stranger either. Just to be sure, she checked her phone that not a minute of her precious schedule was set askew. For a time, she listened to ensure that no footsteps followed her own, but never fully turned to check. The interaction would be completely forgotten before the end of the day.

A N I N T R U D E R A L A R M H A S B E E N S E T O F F O N C A M P U S, H O W D O Y O U R E A C T?

Makenna is one of the first on their feet, and encourages others to follow as she makes her way out the classroom door. At the choke points she coordinates and calms crowds into orderly lines to prevent congestion before it can properly begin.

"Lines, alphabetically, in your houses!" Her amplified voice booms over the rancorous students gathered outside the school. She looks for a professor or administrator to turn over to for instruction, but finding none continues to order the students until a sense of order is resorted.




Trials and Tribulations IV















Trials and Tribulations III







Lambs to the Slaughter

Ersand'Enise - Docks
Seen & Mentioned: @Th3King0fChaos, @YummyYummy, @A Lowly Wretch, @Animus


Silas had turned his nose up at the offered work board. Not at it has anything to do with his literacy difficulties. He just didn't much like the idea of if a middle-man or extra effort put between himself and other peoples money. Besides, his sale of the Wyrm acid and cut from Desmond's egg had set him up rather well, for the rest of the semester at least. But when he'd heard Desmond mention a familiar name, his curiosity couldn't help but be peeked. Though he refused to outright say it. Sinn’ulen’luunetar did not meet with just anyone. If he came knocking, it he already knew what he wanted and the price. Never to be bartered on. His feigned disinterest was stretched rather thin before the end of the same hour he'd hear it.

"Strange he's meeting you in the docks. There are safer places." He'd casually mentioned to his room-mate over their final breakfast before the derby.

"Hiring students seems awful risky don't you think? How trustworthy you think that lot is?" He whispered after the dramatic display at the auction house.

"Hope you didn't bring a gun." He bemoaned, happening upon the Enthish boy in latest hours of night, on a rather twisted, empty, path towards the water gate. A claimed coincidence, of course.

"Y'know those Yasoi noses," he gestured to his own small, rather flat nose. "They can smell that fire-powder from ten feet."

His hands were stuffed deep into the large pockets of his coat- at least a half foot too long for his small frame- and he clicked his tongue. "I better keep by to watch out for ya." If Desmond heard him at all he made little more acknowledgement than a short grunt.

The pair arrived at the docks to find Carmilla and Trypano. Not exactly nobles, but rich stuffy enough to be indistinguishable in Silas' eyes. He didn't give them much more than a nod, before most of his focus was put towards no being sick. The moment they'd stepped onto the boat he'd been overcome with the gentle, yet relentless, lapping of the tides. Behind his blindfold he closed his eyes and listened to the mysterious man's instructions.

"Don't know why we'd have to meet them at all." He piped up, well after the meeting had finished and the other had begun discussing, but enough time for his face to regain it's usual colour. "They all staying in the Cathedral District- The Cathedral even. Could pop in while they're at breakfast and check their beds and clothes." His energy and excitement renewing with each idea that came to mine, he unknowingly began tapping his foot and nodding while one hand emerged to reach for one of the vials. "What'd there even be to notice missing?"
Act Two: Scattered to the Winds____ __ _ _

Chapter Five: Curses______ __ _ _










"Why are you fighting me Rae?" Talit yelled into an empty room. The Timewalker was still a floor above, safely hidden away. The hag had prepared for her arrival, called upon a greyborn to protect her. It would barely slow Talit down. "You can't beat me." She continued to thin air. It was true enough, though the other woman's vanishing and reappearing complicated what should have been a decisive fight. When no response came from her taunting, Talit made to move for the stairs for a third attempt. Just as the others, the moment she made it only a few steps, Rae materialized further up and struck to push her back down. This time Talit was ready, she swung her chains over her opponent to root in the ceiling above, securing herself from losing her place even as her leg was swept out from under her.

"Let me pass!" Rae was pinned between her chains, until she faded again. Talit didn't wait to see where she would turn up again, instead pulling herself to the uppermost floor of the Timewalker's hut. The ancient woman herself, sat on the narrow cot that served as her bed, huddled in the dark and facing the window. Again Talit unleashed her chains to pull her across the room with greater speed than she could ever move on foot.

"Talit! Stop!"

"Lyen?" Talit responded, already knowing it to be her before turning. The older Yasoi stood in the doorway, along with the shockingly tall southern stranger from two nights before. It was all the distraction Rae needed to return again, charging at Talit with enough speed to knock her grip loose from the Timewalker. All three were sent sprawling to the floor. The space in the small room was all the more sparse with the new arrivals, but it didn't deter the two from sparring on the floor, Rae dodged most attacks while Talit was able to absorb greyborn's blows with little impact. Only the Timewalker's voice brought an end to it. With some assistance from Lyen and Eliis she was on her feet again, albeit leaning heavily on the window-ledge.

"Enough, Rae." Her voice rasped but remained clear enough for all to hear, past even the creaking supports of the home and roaring fire bellow. "Your city burns and your brother lies dead. Are you pleased with the path you've chosen, Talit'yrash?"

"Shut up!" Talit yelled, using a wave of force energy to finally land a blow on Rae, sending her towards the timewalker, leaving both momentarily stunned against the wall. Lies and more lies! She had been left with no choice- chosen nothing. Certainly not this. The Eskandr weren't meant to come with such force, weren't meant to bring fire with them. Had Dyric only listened "Lyen," She started again, turning to her friend but her eyes caught instead on the hands of Eliis, still wet with blood. The timewalker's words rang again in her ears.

"What’s happened?" Even as the timewalker and Rae righted themselves behind her, Talit did not look at them again."Where is Dyric?" She asked, her pitch increasing each time her mouth opened.

"I-" The tallest of the grouped women looked at the faces of strangers. "Outside. Dead."’ Lyen's solemn nod was confirmation enough. Talit reached out with force energy, enough to drag the red-headed woman to the floor.

"Murderer!" She screamed, equal parts shock and surprise. Impossible. Her brother - her twin, she would have known. "How?" No sooner was she on Eliis, than she redirected her anger to the timewalker again. "Explain yourself! What twisted lies did you feed them? My brother?"

The timewalker's wrinkled lips pursed then parted to reveal missing spaces between small and rotten teeth. "A maledict killed Merit, your brother was honest on that, if nothing else." A crooked finger pointed to Eliis. "Dyric's blood is not the only she has drawn these three days passed."

"It was lies!" Eliis defended herself. "He told me it was what she wanted- a dying wish! A final selfless act to protect Loriindton!" She shook her head, eyes shining. "Merit was the best of us, I would never have ended her life had I only known the truth."

"You're unworthy to speak her name!" Talit yelled at her, already drawing energy for another attack.

The timewalker took her attention instead: "And you, Talit? How much blood will be on your hands after today? Sending a thief and mercenary to poison soldiers, to send them against your own people-"

The gears clicked in Eliis head, the final piece of the puzzle that had been missing for so long was finally in place. If she could have ripped out her heart in that moment, she would have. Alas, she was on the floor, so all she could do was watch as hatred for this girl filled her heart and mind. To Eliis, Talit had truly been lost to the huusoi. To think she would betray her own people for some foreign king. It was blasphemous.

"I never meant for this!" Her voice was now unnaturally high and strained. "Had Dyric listened from the beginning- Had anyone just believed us-" She stopped and looked between Eliis and Lyen, searching for some understanding and finding none.

There was a brief moment of confusion in Eliis’ mind, but stark clarity came after. She thought that perhaps she should not judge this girl for her crime, since she herself had committed a grave sin all too recently. But Eliis realized Talit was not remorseful for her actions. She would do them again if it meant she got the outcome she wanted.”You are lost. You let your city burn not for duty, but for love. I know the truth - your truth. And I swear to all the gods that you will burn for your sins, just as your city does now. ”

Words wouldn’t be enough to contain Talit’s anger. She rushed at Eliis, the air around her hot with energy; she meant for the southern witch to burn.

"Rae, it is time." Before the words had fully left the timewalker's mouth, the greyborn had taken hold of Eliis' arm and disappeared, this time the tall woman vanishing with her. "She can only take one, I'm afraid," the old woman whispered to Lyen, sorrow in her voice.

"I won't run from a friend." Lyen replied with a good deal more confidence than she felt. "This isn't right Tali, you know it isn't."

"You trust her? Knowing what I told you- What she did to me?"

"She isn't the one who took your leg." Lyen kept her voice low, desperate to be a voice of reason.

The timewalker took a different approach. "Stupid girl. A child! You want the entire truth and I shall give it to you. You will die before your 30th year, Talit'yrash. Loriindton will vanish and be forgotten. The Yasoi will crumble and hide away from the world in their shame. This is the future you have wrought."

Talit was lunging again before Lyen had a chance to try to defuse the timewalker's words, there was enough time to put herself between them, barring Talit from passing any further.

"You see how she poisons with her words Lyen- She is a cancer to our people and must be cut out."

Lyen shook her head, but gave one final effort; "The truth will prevail," she said, "However ugly it may be."

Her own words being used against her proved the final straw for Talit. How could Lyen, Lyen of all people, whom this had all been for, be so blind? There was no blinking back the tears once they came again, now at least she hoped the smoke that had come in the room was enough to hide them.

"Parrence needs the Yasoi," Her hand trembled as she drew energies, and sensed Lyen's person for the thin silver blade always kept at her hip. "Please," She said, "This can't have been for nothing, I don't want to lose anyone else."

The blade had slid easily and smoothly through the right hip and out the left shoulder. The timewalker was still screaming out curses when Lyen's body slumped to the floor, but Talit finally recognized the spitting vitriol for what it was. The old woman feared her death. As much as she had seen it coming, she did not wish to die. The observation did not lend itself to sympathy, as Talit used the energies still inside her to push the hag from the window, accelerating the force of gravity so she'd have no hope of saving herself. The fall was too far to even hear the woman’s screams, had she produced any. Without sparing so much as a glance at the bodies on the ground or in the tree, Talit fled from the house the same way Rae and Eliis had, though they'd left not a trace behind and she eventually circled back to put out the fires and finish the Eskandr. She would save her city and her people, even if it meant dragging them to their salvation, kicking and screaming.




Twenty lay dead by the time the fires were completely extinguished. Merit's body still lay among them, still greyer and more gaunt with each passing hour. Her place of honour was now shared; Chad, Dyric, and the timewalker all lay ahead of the rest of the deceased residents. A place had been left for Rae. None were able to find her and assumed the worst had come to pass; she'd been caught in the flames or between Eskandr who hadn't left anything behind.

Hers wasn't the only body missing from the memorial. Lyen's body had been left outside in the forest. Unburned and unburied, exposed for the elements and animals to exact their judgment. The final insult for a traitor, murderer of two barons, and deceiver of Vyshta. Talit remained quiet throughout the ceremonies, the picture of grief; pale faced and tight lipped. She hadn't wanted to remain long enough for the proceedings at all, but her binding was needed to heal the injured, and leaving early after Gari had pledged two battalions of Yasoi dervish and mages to the Perrench cause would be nothing less than an insult. Not that any questioned her now. Talit'yrash, saviour of Loriindton, avenger of her family, killer of the treacherous and deceitful Lyen'Ivhere'Zulc....It was easier not to listen too closely to the praise they showered her with. She accepted the commendations with a humble nod and teary smile, speaking only long enough to give thanks and notice of her intentions to leave ahead of the group and give warning of their arrival. The cheers for her were deafening.

When everyone else had long left, and she stood alone over the corpse of her brother did Talit let her tears fall. Had only they listened to her; heeded her warnings, accepted her apologies, it could have ended so differently. A long silver dagger was produced from her clothing. She'd cleaned it well, though she swore she could still feel the last of Lyen's magic lingering inside. An impossible melancholic haunting of guilt, she knew, but it did draw enough sentiment that she found herself kneeling on her one leg at the base of the tree that had once been her childhood home. She dug the hole with her hands, scraping knuckles on rock, dirt caught under nails. It wasn't large, but she'd made it herself, without the gift. The knife was placed inside, with a short, customary burial blessing, and buried. It was a weak balm for her stinging guilt. She faced east instead, and looked to the future, thinking of again seeing Arcel and the comfort he was unable to provide her. But what else did she have left?
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