The Muse

Realms of Sun & Shadow

@Dark Light Absolutely! We'd love to have you :)

Realms of Sun & Shadow

@AliceInRedHeels She's wonderful! Go ahead and post her in the Character tab :)

Realms of Sun & Shadow

@AliceInRedHeels We'd love to have you! :) also quick correction, we haven't entered the 2nd day of the RP just yet but we will soon-ish. It's currently 7pm of the 1st day still.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

@amorphical you can go ahead and post them :)

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: The Royal Cabin, Wenyr's Home, & The Blacksmith Forge

For a brief moment, Wenyr had been worried about the prince not reacting to his knock at the door. His benefactor had given him quite the rundown about Dawnhaven prior to his departure, but how to address a prince properly had not been a real part of that. One just so rarely had the opportunity, so he should consider himself very lucky to be here, Wenyr figured. Yet what if he'd screw up ? When the entrance was finally opened, he could almost feel the rush of adrenaline running down his back.

Just as Wenyr finished his probably rather half-assed curtsy, he spotted that the prince had closed the door just as quickly as had opened it before. Preserving the warmth inside one's home was a quite understandable thing, but needlessly exposing oneself to the cold outside was not. Had he... had he just disturbed the prince in some kind of difficult affair ?

"Hello Flynn!" he replied, putting up a slightly nervous smile. "Seems I have found you first. Did I interrupt something important ?" It was a complete shot in the dark, but maybe camouflaged in enough politeness not to be noticed as such. If the situation was inappropriate somehow, he needed to figure it out before talking about his list of items first. Negotiations could shatter to bitter pieces if conducted under the wrong circumstances!

“Don’t worry, you have excellent timing.” Flynn lied, his tone warm and reassuring as he noticed the nervous smile on the blacksmith's face. The Prince had many talents, but his mother often praised his ability to become a chameleon among people the most. Flynn could easily compartmentalize his stress while under the public eye, shifting into whatever others needed him to be in that moment. “As a King should”, his mother would proudly remind him. Wearing a mask every day was mentally draining, but he knew he was adept at making the people of his kingdom feel comfortable around him, never letting on how much stress he was truly under.

Flynn paused, considering how best to steer the conversation away from any potential awkwardness. "Actually, I was just thinking about the progress on your new home. Why don’t we go see how it’s coming along?”

Stepping away from the cabin, Flynn gestured for Wenyr to follow him towards the area of Dawnhaven where they had been building most of the homes, only a short walk from the royal cabin. "I am told it should be completed within the next day. I've heard your forge is already finished in the town center, as well."

Flynn clasped his hands behind his back as he walked along the gravel path lit with torches, his eyes scanning the construction progress of each home as they passed. "You can take up room at The Eye of The Beholder until everything is finished. I will pay for the inconvenience, of course.”

A few minutes later, Flynn paused in front of a cabin home that was nearly complete. Stacks of wood lay outside, evidence of the ongoing work. "Home sweet home.” Flynn chimed, holding a warm smile as he looked to Wenyr, hoping that he would be pleased. It was nothing like the luxury of living in the capital of Aurelia, far from it, but it would at least keep him safe and warm.

On the superficial level, Wenyr's visit seemed to keep going like any one of the clock towers in Aurelia's capital: smoothly and with pinpoint accuracy. Yet it took a lot of deliberate ignorance not to know just how considerable the effort to make them do so was and the blacksmith had little doubt about the same thing holding true with the prince's approach to this meeting as well. To suspect that not every gentle smile and not every lucky coincidence was real, but to consider the possibility that they actually were in the specific instance was the double edged blade every merchant and artisan had to both defend against and wield himself, the question of which of these two was the right thing to do being a complication in its own respect.

Seeing how Flynn paid attention to the construction work around him as they walked was almost even more interesting for Wenyr than paying attention to the construction work himself. He had not met the prince for any significant amount of time before, so trying to have a glimpse at just how good (or bad) hands the future of Aurelia rested was tempting. He halfway inadvertently stayed slightly behind Flynn so the latter hopefully wouldn't notice Wenyr looking at what he did, at least until they finally arrived at the site.

"Home warm hope I hope it will be. I've heard the winter can be quite harsh here." His eyes instinctively wandered towards the skies as if there was any good news to be seen there, but there wasn't. Wenyr was eager to go inside, but also didn't want to waste the prince's time. Flynn had to be a busy person after all. "I'm sure it will look as good on the inside as it does on the outside already." Maybe his stay in Dawnhaven would turn out to be better than he had actually thought of prior to his arrival ? "And the forge is at the center of town, you say ? Good choice! That way the smell and smoke won't annoy the entire neighborhood." The walk back and forth from his cabin to the forge would not hurt either -- unless it had to be in the middle of a ferocious thunderstorm of course, but that kind of thing would put anybody in distress. Wenyr had not really cared much about the local weather yet except for the obvious that it was way too dark for way too long a time during the 'day'. He still called it that way out of sheer convention, but that mental inertia would not hold up for long anymore and he might lose track of time entirely at some point, the blacksmith anticipated.

"So,” Flynn continued, turning towards Wenyr, "Your patron sent us a list of supplies required for you ahead of time, so we have much of them in your forge already. Sunni should be expecting another shipment of goods soon, as well.”

"Let’s go take a look at your new forge as well.” He said decisively, guiding Wenyr out of the designated neighborhood area and towards the middle of the village. As they walked, Flynn pointed out various shops, some already built and others still under construction. He indicated the courier's office, the inn, the apothecary, the merchant's exchange, and the alchemy chambers.

"Here we are.” Flynn said, pausing just outside the doors to allow Wenyr a moment to take in the structure of the building. After a few moments, Flynn pushed open the wooden door and stepped inside, waiting for the blacksmith to follow. For now, the forge was cold and quiet, but soon, Flynn hoped, it would be warm and filled with the symphony of metal on metal, each strike of the hammer against the anvil resonating through the building.

Wenyr craned his neck to have a look onto the structure from bottom to top, noticing the large chimney immediately. It was the telltale sign of a forge and this one had probably been built a tad higher so the smoke could spread out over people's heads instead of coming down onto them. A sturdy construction it seemed, but he was no expert on this. His true realm lay inside and behind the walls.



The sight of an anvil cast that subtle bit of a twinkle in Wenyr's eyes that was indicative of great anticipation. He stepped forward and took a deep breath of the cold air, then touched the large, complex counterpart for his hammer with his calloused hands. "This is the smell of nothing an artisan experiences on only two occasions: Before the workshop is put into action for the first time and after it has gone out of commission." He blinked his eyes towards the prince. "Not that I'd expect the latter to happen in any foreseeable time!" The place looked great and it probably was even large enough for some people to have a stay once the freezing cold had started to reign outside.

"As for Dawnhaven,” Flynn began, walking out of the blacksmith's shop and gesturing towards the surrounding areas as he spoke, "When people aren’t working, you’ll likely find them at The Eye of the Beholder.” he noted, then his eyes trailed to the north, where the Aelios temple stood along the ridge of a mountain, next to a natural hot spring. "Or the hot springs, especially as it gets colder.” He smiled, his gaze returning to the rugged man before him. "Is there anything else I can do for you today, mister Targath? Any questions?”

”There are hot springs?” Wenyr’s amazement about this news was pretty blatant, so far he had imagined those ‘springs’ to be much more like your usual case of a steady water supply. ”That could save a lot on firewood in the winter. I’ve been rather concerned about Dawnhaven starving of fuel and other goods while the passes are likely closed for heavy traffic.”

Flynn smiled genuinely at Wenyr’s interest in the hot springs. While most people enjoyed hot springs, to an Aurelian they held a deeper significance. Not only were they considered sacred in their homeland, but they also provided a comforting reminder of home in such a cold and unforgiving environment. "I knew this would be a good place to settle once the hot spring was discovered.” He chimed happily, making a mental note to himself that a trip to the hot spring would be nice after such a stressful day.

Wenyr pulled his cloak a bit tighter around him as the outside was still significantly colder than the inside with the added wind and snowflakes. "You are probably right. I assume my patron must have figured the same, because at least as far as I know him he's not keen on committing to things that don't have a prospect of actually working out."
At this moment, a brainwave hit the blacksmith: Flynn might be the perfect opportunity to find out more about his own employer. It wasn't that he knew nothing about him, but those nobles tended to keep their secrets and he was just eager to learn more about the man with that much coin. Wenyr had to suppress the idea of asking the prince right now, feeling that it might be inappropriate. "Speaking of him...My patron must have paid a lot of attention when I spoke to him. This looks very good so far. I could start producing the most important things in advance as far as possible if there is any need. Do you think we should put priority on certain things more than others right now ?”

The hot springs didn’t go out of his head but not only for the nice outlook of taking a bath there. A steady source of warmth from the earth could maybe be exploited in other ways, too. He would just have to gather some ideas first and then make a proposal maybe.

As Flynn considered Wenyr’s question, his thoughts drifted back to the Lunaris guards who had arrived in Dawnhaven unannounced. Briefly, he wondered if he should have the blacksmith focus on crafting weapons. Would they need to arm the townspeople if the Lunarians attacked? Was the King of Lunaris planning to declare war? The Queen of Lunaris was dead, and the King was clearly unpredictable. Adding to his concerns, Dawnhaven was also settling on the King’s land, far from Flynn’s home country.

"Swords, spears, axes, and shields.” He decided, trusting that the blacksmith would understand their position. The Lunarian’s posed a large threat on their own, but so did the blight-born that were being welcomed into town. "Horseshoes, as well. We should make sure our animals are well taken care of.”

"Understood." He had honestly not expected this answer, and even though it was a perfectly valid one and working on weapons tended to be much more rewarding than other items in terms of learning and just accepting the challenge, they also meant serious business in an entirely different sense of the word. A sense that left an imaginary, but bitter-sweet taste on Wenyr's tongue. "I will get to work on these as soon as possible. Are you expecting trouble ?" The question had just burst out of him quicker than his mind had been able to catch it. Now the blacksmith bit his lips for having dabbled into what probably was politics.

Flynn turned to the blacksmith, weighing how much he should confide in his fellow Aurelian. "I…” Flynn locked eyes with the man who was clearly older than him and had lived a much tougher life in many ways. "I hope not. But one can never be sure…” He sighed, letting his words hang in the air for a moment “I would appreciate your discretion with the rest of the town. I don't wish to cause alarm, but recent events have me concerned,” He admitted, deciding that his armorer was one of the people he should be putting trust in, if anyone. Wenyr could help him better if he knew the Prince’s concern, though Flynn wasn't yet ready to reveal everything. The announcement about the Queen would have to wait until tomorrow. Octavia needed to grieve, at least for the day. "I trust that I can count on you?”

Wenyr nudged his head towards the door they had just come out of, a gesture that they should get back in. There was no reason to believe in anyone eavesdropping on purpose, but preventing accidental events was often better than not to. The sturdy door's first ever test would not prevent anybody from coming in, but to deny the spoken word the way out. The blacksmith's face had turned more serious than before as he addressed Flynn: "You can. However, if I may, I would not recommend revealing more detail to me than you think is absolutely necessary. Not that I would not trust myself on that, but I can't tell what I don't know even by pure chance." He paused briefly, digging his fingernails into his mane to scratch his head a little. "That being said, I should probably try to make the weapon crafting business a bit more of a discreet affair as well ? I mean, if anybody sees how the town is stocking up on arms and armor, it is easy to add one to one."

"We will provide newer weapons to our knights here.” Flynn said once he had followed Wenyr back inside. "We can use that if anyone starts asking questions, for now.” Flynn’s mind raced with ideas on how to maintain discretion and avoid raising alarms.

"We can trust Sunni, the town merchant, and Orion, my advisor, with this information, and no others. Sunni can attest that we are trading arms for goods, if necessary.” He sighed, the weight of the day evident as his Princely demeanor faltered slightly.

"I hope that we will not need these weapons, but… we must be prepared, if we do.” Flynn added, giving the blacksmith a faint smile, "Thank you, Wenyr. I won't say more on the matter for now. Perhaps my concerns will ease in time...” He tried to sound optimistic, but a sense of unease lingered in his thoughts, hinting that his suspicions might be justified.

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_{Collaboration with @Fetzen}

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TIMESKIP

_{Current Moon Phase: Full | Current Weather: 30 Degrees, a light snow is beginning to stick to the ground | Current Time: 7pm}

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Realms of Sun & Shadow

Hi all! Just an update - I've updated the World Lore section of the 1st post of the Characters tab. The Moonrise Sanctury (in Lunaris), the Sunfire Citadel (in Aurelia), and the Aelios Temple, Seluna Temple, and the Blacksmith Forge have been added to the details in the Dawnhaven section.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Hey all! Just wanted to add here for those not in the Discord - we'll be doing a time skip to 7pm soon! Hold tight.

I have one more collab going and then we'll do the skip :)

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: The Eye of the Beholder

“Mr… Porter…” Ivor slowly pronounced, “the man who flew…” it would not be easy, but the wild one would remember this. Before Ivor could test his sharpened vocabulary, the man took off into the night sky, leaving nary but a gust of wind in his wake. Brow furrowed and determination unwavering, he waved to the figure as it grew smaller in the distance, “Goodbye, Mr. Porter!” Proud of himself, he nodded in affirmation of this small achievement in overcoming the language barrier.

"Oh! Ivor, uhm.. Who is this?"

It wasn’t until the young woman questioned him about his companion that his mind returned to the task at hand. With a pang of anxiety his whole body shifted around to inspect the rider; she was still there, good, but seemed..colder now, tired, desperate. “Rider! I nearly forgot!” Ivor planted himself on the other side of the rider and Miss Eris, wondering what he should even do in this situation. The Rider was weak, but the inn was right there, but perhaps she could make it there herself, lean on him like a crut-

“By the moon, I need it.”

A more desperate plea could not have been uttered; with furrowed brows, Ivor knew what must be done. “Forgive me, but I presume to carry you!” Without further context or clarification Ivor’s massive mitts grasped onto the furs and hides of the woman’s armor, hoisting her up with a grunt over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Ivor had a mission, one he intended to complete quickly, but there was Miss Eris. He looked down at the young woman, she looked pale, was she sick? Cold? How long had she been out here for? WAS THAT A SHIVER JUST NOW? “Miss Eris, I presume to carry you too!” Again without hesitation, the other woman was even more easily hoisted to his other shoulder as he began bounding for the tavern doors.

Eris’s eyes grew wide as Ivor effortlessly tossed the injured Lunarian women over his shoulder and proceeded to reach for her. "Oh! Ivor, there’s really no neeEEEED!!" she shrieked, her voice rising in panic. In one swift motion, he lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather and slung her over his other shoulder. Terrified, Eris clung to his clothing for dear life as she stared down at the ground, silently praying to Aelios that Ivor would not drop her from such a height.

The earth shook beneath him, the patrons inside may have even taken notice, but that was irrelevant as soon as his boot made contact with the wooden door, the timber material flying off its frame. The giant then made his way inside to the shocked gazes of the tavern's denizens before hurriedly scanning for the hearth. When his eyes met with the licking flames he shouted the only warning he could think of at that moment, “Beware!” Beware the wild one as he bounded onward to the open flames, both warmth and sanctuary for his fellow compatriots. “Beware!”

Eris buried her face into Ivor’s shoulder as he kicked down the door to the inn, a mix of embarrassment and horror flooding her senses at the spectacle he was creating. As she felt something fuzzy and soft against her cheek, she recoiled slightly and looked down, realizing with a surge of disgust that she had pressed her face into the tail of a dead squirrel Ivor had recently hunted.

Feeling her cheeks burn hot, the brunette glanced up just as the large blight-born man began to bellow, “beware!” Her heart sank, knowing that his dramatic entrance would either provoke drawn swords or send people fleeing if they didn't recognize him. "Uh- N- No!" She stammered, her voice wavering with every bounce upon Ivor’s shoulder. The words emerged in a staccato rhythm, "I-It’s.. f-fine..Ev-ery-one!"

Persephone was lifted bodily and she did not have the strength to resist or explain before she was over the giant's shoulder and could feel the earth move with the heavy and bounding tread. The Inn was close, had she doomed herself before she could have got to safety in merely less than a minute?

With no energy left to fight the Lunarian woman let the vibration move with her and did not fight it, this seemed to lessen any chance of injury as she could not tense up and held her panic response back even as wood seemed to break and her mental discipline was severely tested.. purely her instinct was both helping and causing her problems right now. Beware... she was not even sure. Was he like some kind of troll or trying to not trample people... for all she could not see! But one voice did call to her, however quiet one she would recognise anywhere. "Adon... is..." She called out with what force of will she still had, "Lunaris, Help... need fire"

The tall Knight turned to the commotion faster than his state probably should have allowed but he felt something, something important. Two women, a broken door and one in Lunarian Uniform? That cloak? It looked like the one he got his... Not one to be unprepared, unwilling, but also not foolish either he kept one hand on his sword's hilt. "Now. Mind your next words. Why you got these women?" He was slow, deliberate and almost knew that one might be someone he was so close to, but remained calm but firm in command.

As surely as Ivor had started, he was just as quickly stopped by a man not unlike himself; vetted by the trials of age, yet nowhere near ready to stop. Though he stood a full foot shorter than Ivor, his firm tone caused the bigger man to stop and think briefly. Choose? Careful? Words? Ivor let out something between a frustrated grunt and an exhausted groan; this man was testing him, now of all times? Ms. Eris had done something like this before, she called them ‘pop quizzes’ and Ivor would need to think on his feet to pass her test. Why was this stranger doing this now of all times? He seemed dressed like the other Lunarian soldiers, but also stronger, not just in ability, but in leadership. Was he a knight? Why would a knight test him? Did he not see the damsels? Did he not see the distress on Ivor’s face? Ivor really needed to reevaluate the accuracy of the book choices Ms. Eris was giving him.

The giant danced on the balls of his feet anxiously, based on the question he decided to just recount everything, word by word, quickly. “Rider. Mountain. Hard. Horse. Neigh. Calm. Help! Cold! Brrr! Sled. Drag. Friends! Hello! Forget. Panic! Grab. Run. Smash. Stop…”

His pace quickened as he watched the unchanging blank expression of the man in front of him. Were these not the right words? Had he chosen wrong? Damn it all, he had no time for this! After a brief pause without a response, Ivor simply commanded, “Move!” Before shoving his way past to deliver the women to the comfort of the flames. He allowed the more lively Eris to slide down his frame first before carefully seating the rider in front of the fire.

"Ivor!" Eris gasped as the blight-born man pushed his way past the stranger. Still clinging to Ivor’s shoulder, she felt her heart race as the tension grew. She didn’t recognize the knight dressed in Lunarian armor, but his presence seemed to demand respect and immediate answers.

"Ivor, p-please!" she stammered, her voice small and nearly lost in the chaos. She glanced nervously at the knight, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and fear that the situation would escalate. It was always hard to tell how a Lunarian soldier would react. Was this one just as short tempered as the others she had come across?

Finally, as Ivor set her down in front of the hearth, Eris sighed a breath of relief. Gathering her courage as Ivor tended to the other woman, she looked directly at the knight. "He found this woman in need of help." She glanced back towards the Lunarian woman who was looking weaker by the moment. "Ivor... h-he only wants to get her to safety. This is all a misunderstanding." She looked back towards the knight, her eyes pleading with him not to be too upset with her companion.

To say Coswain was confused was to say a rather frank understatement. He was still trying to make light of the absurd situation he was in when the giant pushed past him to get to the fire. Letting the momentum carry him and moving with it knowing from long experience fighting it would have been impossible. ”I will not hesitate if you hurt her.”. His words were practically a growl almost.

Immediately he gestured for his companions to stand down, too many civilians, too tight quarters, the two women too close. He had ran the moves several times and alterations in under a second and every one ended up with a bad plan for him or close bystanders, and he did not live long as he had being a fool. He did not have to suffer fools though. Then he was looking down at the smaller woman, her style more Auralian in nature. ”If this is trick, I can carry judgment.” He said warningly and clearly willing to follow it but a look at her gear, gear he had cleaned so many times. He knew well as his own, made his hand drop, his concern magnified past his anger. ”Persephone … by the moon goddess how” He paused mid way unsure how she could have even ended up here, she was In capital when he departed! Yes they took a slow ride with the cart..

”Adon.. I made it …” The woman said weakly and tried to look towards the familiar voice.

Even now, weak as she was, she struggled to move and the angry man did not look so angry anymore. Ivor looked between the two of them and recognized there was a bond as a small smile graced his lips. “Rest now, you are in good place,” he nodded before standing and turning towards the man, “Rider…” Ivor grunted, pounding his closed fist against his chest, “Strong.” Ivor nodded once more and feeling that the Lunarians may want to commune with one another, he diverted his attention to Eris who appeared more frazzled than he remembered. “Miss Eris, are you well? I did not hurt you in the presuming?”

Eris breathed a sigh of relief as the knight suddenly recognized the woman Ivor had found, unaware she had been holding her breath while he glared at them and issued warnings. She observed them closely, trying to discern their connection, but her attention snapped back to Ivor as he spoke.

"Ivor, you cannot do things like that." She scolded him, clearly upset. "You..." She pointed at him, then spread her arms wide, emphasizing, "Biiiig.." Her gaze fixed on him, brows furrowed in concern. "Scary." She simplified her words, making sure he understood. Her eyes then scanned the inn, noting the alarmed patrons now on edge with the commotion.

Ivor’s eyes grew wide as Eris chastised him, and despite how tiny she was compared to him, the roles were reversed as realization and embarrassment settled in. “Oh no…Miss Eris I think I did the ‘too much talking’ and not enough of ‘the listening’ again…” the giant scratched his head.

Feeling something trickle down her cheek, Eris quickly wiped her face and looked down to find the unmistakable color of blood. "Goddess above..." The brunette groaned, wiping her hand off on her skirts and using her clothed shoulder to try to make sure she got rid of any more remnants of the blood.

Glancing at the squirrel she had inadvertently pressed her face into while riding on Ivor's shoulder, she noticed fresh blood speckling its tail, which had transferred onto her cheek. "Ugh," she shivered, thoroughly disgusted. She would surely be visiting the hot spring later today.

Turning her attention back to the mystery woman, Eris slipped past Ivor and scanned the room for someone to assist. Fortunately, she didn't have to look far. Eris spotted Sya and her big blue eye almost immediately, though Sya's expression wasn't pleased after Ivor's abrupt entrance had shattered the door to the inn.

"Sya," Eris called out, approaching with concern etched on her face, "Could we get some water for her? And soup, perhaps? She's in a bad way." She frowned, casting a regretful glance at the damaged door. "I... apologize about the door. We'll arrange to have it fixed..." Eris didn't know the first thing about repairing a door, but she was sure she could find someone to help her.

”Coming right out… Hot stew. But you will replace that. Ivor. you owe me some meat. And not some half starved squirrel.” Sya vanished quickly into the back not before fixing Ivor and Eris with a glare and a stern look respectively; she did not forget him smashing her door off the hinges. Maybe she should have stayed and let Olivia have her chance at more… active cuddling. ”Bloody Barbarians… Rather try that… number. Thingy position Olivia whispered...” Sya grumbled as rushed out the food and drink to the woman. They could work out who to bill…

The Knight saw the situation was screwed up, he was annoyed but right now priorities. ”Its under Control, Hector, try and least get the door upright at least. make some space. Keep us warm.” He called out to try and restore some calmost before he kneeled down and used the furs as a pillow gently holding the woman's hand. ”Hot meal coming Seph, Smells pretty good too.” He tried to be confident despite his concerns digging deep.

Hector was worried for his friend as looked over examining the wrecked door and frame, that was more like a battering ram hit… though watching a giant bring seemingly challenged by a tiny innkeeper was a small light in the dark. ”Fierce little lady, We do not want her angry at us… We have to live here.” He thought that as he saw the small hooded woman heading over and her body language was a little frosty.

“Ack, Feh! Syraeia!” He reverted back to his mother tongue, she was one of the few people here knew it, at least something akin to it, “You’ll get a half-starved stag instead, but I got plenty of kills, take your pick for the door, oh and for Rider’s food too!” His voice boomed out to her in the back. Ivor looked at his handiwork, a solid foot sized dent embedded dead center in the splintered timber, the knights were already prepping to lift it up. He felt it was his responsibility to clean up his mess though, no need to get the others involved. Stepping towards them Ivor spoke, “Please Lunarans, let Ivor fix, is my burden to bear.” The Lunarians looked at one another before nodding solemnly, then he stepped in, gripped the door's edge and lifted it upright. Gaining a better grip, Ivor carried the door back to its broken frame and with a mighty heave, wedged the splintered pieces back together like a layer of velcro, the wood fibers intermingling with one another. This was far from a perfect solution, but at least the door would keep out the cold.

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_{Collaboration with @PrinceAlexus & @BeastofDestiny}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: The Northern Forest Outside of Dawnhaven

Kira narrowed her eyes as the blight-born stranger claimed the human blood covering him was simply a result of self-defense. She wasn't inclined to believe him, but she understood all too well the relentless nature of the Lunarian people. In Lunaris, there was no mercy for those cursed with their affliction, and she herself had been hunted many times over the past two years. His story, at the very least, was plausible. While she empathized, her training as an assassin reminded her not to trust so easily.

"Please don't judge me! Hurting them was not my intention! I just want to get to Dawnhaven and finally catch a good night's sleep... Can you help a brotha out?"

Kira took a startled step backward as the man dropped to his hands and knees before her. Her brows furrowed in complete shock as she watched him crumble to the ground, begging for her assistance. Did he have any shred of dignity left? She found herself starting to judge him but quickly corrected her train of thought. The blight had driven many to actions they never would have imagined in a previous life - including herself.

“Your plea has been heard. Dawnhaven may offer you sanctuary, but your actions henceforth must reflect your intent for peace. We do not judge solely on past deeds but on the promise of a better path.”

Kira looked to her right where Orion finally decided to reveal himself from the shadows, her eyes studying the royal advisor carefully as he offered a hand to the stranger. She wondered if he was making a wise decision, as she was clearly more cautious of the man than Orion was, but she was smart enough not to voice her objections. She held no leverage in Dawnhaven, as much as she hated it. If Orion wanted to accept the blood covered man then she would have to hold her tongue - it was not her place to offer advice.

“How has he remained so trusting of people?” She pondered as she watched the interaction. Truth be told, she had steeled her heart to others long before she had become blight-born, but it had only worsened over the last two years. “Must be an Aurelian thing.” She thought, dismissing the fact that her own blood was also Aurelian. She was nothing like them.

“Behave and you might just have a home again.” Kira said, her attention returning to the stranger as he got back on his feet. She didn't know how long he had been afflicted, but spending a lifetime running was exhausting and Kira knew how valuable it was to have a place to call home again. She glanced at Orion one more time before taking a few more steps backwards into the forest, giving him downward nod signaled her appreciation and that she would see him later. Orion would need to escort this civilian to the Prince on his own - Kira didn't want to be responsible for a potentially feral blight-born. The royal couple was much more likely to punish Kira for such a mistake than they were Orion.

Turning away from them, fingers still wrapped around her dagger, Kira disappeared back into the shadows of the forest. The run in with this strange man had done little to quell her craving for blood, so she returned to her mission: find a meal.

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_{Interactions: Orion @Qia, Willis @BOOM}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: The Eye of The Beholder & The Royal Cabin
Time: 12pm}


Flynn's brow furrowed and worry filled his expression as Sunni's voice reverberated through the tavern, calling for Jonathan's aid. Rarely had Flynn heard his best friend's voice carry such a tone, which was a worrisome departure from Sunni's usual demeanor. In fact, the only time Flynn could recall Sunni being angry was when he inadvertently created a fire tornado and razed his entire home to the ground. Without the sun there was no possible way Sunni could achieve such a feat again, but it was still cause for concern. Even a small magical outburst could cause Sunni exceptional physical consequences - even death. Despite this concern, Flynn's primary worry was understanding why Sunni was so angry. With the relentless efforts Sunni had poured into building Dawnhaven over the past two months, perhaps he had pushed himself too hard, stretched too thin. A break was long overdue... for everyone.

“I believe we have found Sunni,”

Flynn frowned as he looked to his wife, “It seems so... Let's check in on him.” Stepping away from the door, Flynn re-entered the tavern and began to make way to Sunni's room.

“Oh, before we go and see Sunni, I… Uhh… Nevermind, We should go to Sunni…”

Flynn halted mid-step, observing his wife's evident struggle to broach a subject with him. The worry in his face deepened as he watched her, the way she avoided eye contact and tried to force a smile onto her face. In that moment, he found himself at a crossroads. Prioritize his wife or his best friend?

“Is everything okay?” Flynn's voice was low, a conscious effort to prevent their conversation from echoing throughout the tavern, where they remained under the scrutiny of its patrons. Sunni would have to wait. If Flynn was to be a good husband, he knew he had to put Octavia first in all things. “Perhaps we should find somewhere more private to talk?” He suggested, glancing up at the tavern to see who might be watching and listening. As royals, they almost always had eyes on them.

Octavia seemed to be uncertain about approaching the conversation she brought up — Do not read this letter alone — those were very strict orders from someone who wasn’t usually that way. She shook her head, “We can get to those matters later. We came here to find Sunni. Let’s at least pay him a visit before leaving,” The younger woman was beginning to realize bringing up such a topic… such a subject in a place so busy as the tavern was naive and ridiculous. This letter that she hid under her shawl meant more and was most likely not for the public.

“The thing is,” She whispered lightly so others couldn’t hear. “I received a very important letter from my little sister and Pleiades informed me that I should not open the letter alone… opening it here would be a horrible idea though it can be opened later. I doubt it’s terribly urgent. My sister sometimes thinks urgent matters are the wrong shades of fabric being sewn into her dress,” Octavia was trying to relieve some of the stress that was on her mind about the letter. Sylestar was sometimes known as a drama queen or someone who would overreact to certain things. Urgent didn’t mean the same thing for the sisters.

Given his upbringing, Flynn found it hard to trust Octavia solely off her word, despite her efforts to reassure him. His mother, the Queen, was notorious for her mind games; she rarely meant what she said directly, expecting people to decipher her true intentions. The family, especially, was required to know what to do without her explicitly saying so. Flynn’s sisters, for the most part, were the same way. “If you’re sure…” Flynn hesitated, feeling uneasy about postponing the discussion, uncertain if that was really what Octavia wanted. Not only that, but Pleiades’s instruction for Octavia to not read it alone made him wary. What exactly had Octavia’s sister said to him? Having little to no knowledge of Octavia's siblings, he'd have to take her word for it. “Let’s go see Sunni, then… we can talk after.”

Continuing forward with Octavia, the couple headed upstairs. As they approached Sunni’s room, Flynn paused at the door for a brief moment to listen for any voices that might come through. Finding that it was completely silent on the other side, Flynn lightly knocked. “Sunni?” He called, listening for any movement beyond the door. “It’s Flynn and Octavia… everything okay?”

With her husband’s hesitating voice, Octavia glanced down where the letter was hiding under her clothing. Her lips parted for something to come out but she closed them. She wasn’t certain. She was downplaying her emotions and trying to shove them deep inside of her. There was so much worry inside of her about the letter and she might have been selfish. She wanted to delay opening it because anything could be going on at the capital of Lunaris. Anything and everything while she was miles away and could do nothing about it.

“Okay.” She whispered in agreement to go see Sunni. Her husband’s hesitation reminded her of her father’s acts. The king of Lunaris might have never been one to be hesitant though those similar pauses could shut her down. Her eyes fell to the floor, not looking at Flynn, as she debated the possibilities in her head. Was he mad that she was postponing the information inside? Could he see through her facade of doing it for selfish reasons? That caused her to feel sick. If he did think that way, would he get mad? And how much of a temper did the prince of Aurelia have?

Sunni had already taken his boots off, his shirt that was mucky, and his outer pants. He had his undergarments on which were long pants made from blue fabric that had a wide waistband that hid most of his lower torso. The dirt that was packed onto his outer clothes was making him feel gross along with everything that Eris had said in front of Elara. Hearing the knock on the door, he sighed to where they couldn’t hear it, but he smiled slightly when he heard Flynn’s voice.

Nodding his head in thought, a gentle smile appeared on his face, “Why would anything be wrong? My prince,” Sunni sat up in the bed and carefully maneuvered around all the items in his room. His room was packed full of items and things. Reaching over into the pile of clothes, he grabbed a very faded red shirt, and he threw that on quickly. Getting over to the door, he opened it up and leaned against the frame. “Everything is dandy here. How are my two favorite royals tonight?” He seemed cheerful. A different aura than when he shouted for Jonathan.

Maintaining a worried frown, Flynn made a mental note to inquire further about the issue with Sunni at a later time. It was evident to the Prince that his friend was holding something back, but he didn’t feel it was appropriate to push the subject with Octavia present. Clearly, Sunni wasn’t ready to discuss whatever had upset him yet.

“Ah, well… ” Flynn glanced at Octavia before turning back to Sunni, offering a sheepish smile. “It seems I may have… underestimated… just how many supplies we needed to survive the winter.” He sighed, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. Sunni was already working tirelessly, and yet Flynn was about to ask for even more. “We were wondering if you might be able to pull any more strings with your contacts to get some more supplies sent here before the pass over the mountain becomes too dangerous…”

Sunni chuckled upon his friend switching rapidly through emotions — Flynn didn’t always know what direction to take but he was somewhat disappointed that he barely got a conversation in before the man began asking for supplies. He nodded his head, “Octavia called me to her quarters last night and spoke about all the supplies we would need. Her last shipment should be here by the end of the week,” He knew that it was pushed back and the princess wasn’t happy with it. The man gave a slight smile to Octavia. One to try and reassure her that he was trying to make sure everything was timely.

Hearing the rest of his friend's request, he kept that faint smile on his face, “I will try my best. Let me write some things up and have Pleiades send them out pronto —” Sunni paused as if he wanted to say something else but he glanced at the ground before talking again. “ — How are the both of you?”

Octavia seemed to glance at the friends, as she decided she could intervene with the question, “I am doing well, thank you for asking, Mister Emberani,” That phrase seemed to get a sigh then a chuckle out of him — Mister Emberani — Octavia seemed to love to keep things formal.

“I’m holding up. Thank you, Sunni” Flynn said, giving Sunni a friendly pat on the shoulder – a bit firmer than he would with a stranger, a silent communication of his appreciation between brothers. “How’ve you been? I owe you a drink later.” He smiled, glancing past his friend to peer into what appeared to be a hoarder's nest of a room. They needed to get Sunni’s house built quickly, or he’d start taking over the entire tavern with his various items and packages.

“I think we all could use a break.” Flynn thought out loud, forming a plan as he spoke. “Perhaps Na’Ri could perform for everyone. We could gather everyone here for food and drinks. On me. Tomorrow night.” He looked over to Octavia, seeking her approval. “What do you think?” Although using supplies in this way might not have been the wisest decision, Flynn understood that boosting morale could make a significant difference. Especially for the Aurelian people who had been ripped so far from everything they once knew. They had all been working so hard for two months straight—some even longer, as they had arrived before the royal couple to begin construction.

Noticing his friend was looking over his shoulder, his room was dark, but anyone with eyes could tell how much stuff was in such a small room. His attention only lasted for a second or two before looking forward again, “I might need a drink,” The man chuckled while his smile widened. He was not lying at this point. A drink might do him some good — relax him a little bit. Flynn might recognize the behavior better than anyone. When Sunni didn’t want to share how he would feel… he would skip over that part and continue the conversation like he answered that question.

Sunni did not want to explain what happened with Eris out in the town square and how it all happened in front of Elara. That would be embarrassing, and Octavia didn’t need to know that information. The woman was Octavia’s right-hand lady, her handmaiden, and he knew if he said anything in front of the princess — that information might get back to the beautiful moonstruck woman.

When Flynn began to formulate an idea, Sunni smiled more, “Sounds wonderful,” His voice sounded intrigued though everything was internally screaming. The man didn’t want to be around a bunch of people, hearing music, song, or dance. Typically, he would love it, but he felt like his nerves were shot. Being the only merchant in town… everyone was always bothering him for products. He understood that he was helping Dawnhaven grow and he was a good source of importation for goods though it was burning his social battery. He wasn’t going to tell Flynn or anyone. It would be selfish to bring up such a thing in harder times.

Rubbing at his neck, he continued to have that smile, “I think it is a great idea, Flynn. The people definitely deserve to have a nice time once in a while and I believe everyone has earned it with their hard work,” Sunni added his two cents as he began to look more exhausted than anything. Kept himself leaning up against the frame as he crossed his arms. “ Are there any specific products that you wanted me to have imported?”

Flynn did not miss that Sunni had intentionally ignored his question, but he decided not to press the issue. Now wasn’t the time. Later, during their drink, the Prince would certainly have some questions for his friend.

“Well....” He paused to think about what Octavia had expressed to him earlier in the day. “We need more blankets and heavy wool clothing. Furs. Things to keep people warm.” He glanced at his wife once more, checking her facial reaction to make sure he was saying the right things. “Candles and lamp oil.” He added, knowing that this darkness could go on for the rest of their lives for all they knew. He shuddered at the thought of it. “Hay and grains for the animals.” He sighed, knowing this was a tall order. They had already stocked so many of these things already, which was why Flynn thought they were in good shape, but Octavia thought otherwise. “Anything we can get through the pass fast enough, really.” Silently, Flynn cursed his father and mother for not sending more supplies along with them two months ago.

Reaching over for a writing utensil and a piece of paper, Sunni began to jot those things down, so he would remember to place those orders. Octavia seemed to glance at Flynn while his friend was busy writing. Her face did not change much though there were so many thoughts going on behind those big blue eyes — Does he truly think partying when we don’t have enough supplies is a good idea? — Her face might have shown a slight concern about her thoughts on it but nothing more.

Sunni mumbled the things that his friend was listening to as he wrote them down. “I will make sure these orders get placed for the both of you,” He was sure that must have been everything, right? It didn’t seem like Flynn was adding anymore and Octavia seemed to be quieter than usual.

The man rocked on the balls of his feet, his bare feet, and seemed to listen to all the commotion downstairs. “I suppose I should throw some more layers on and get downstairs to help out Syraeia,” He added while maneuvering over to his desk and putting the paper onto the pile. There was already a pile of requests he got from others the past few days. Sunni needed to go through them and see what was reasonable and what wasn’t.

Octavia went to speak though she shut her mouth. It wasn’t her place to redirect Flynn if he wanted to throw a party. She needed to remember that she wasn’t in the capital anymore and she didn’t have her mother’s backing to cancel out consequences that could occur from her speaking. She looked away from Flynn as she let her eyes wander to Sunni and how crowded his room was.

Flynn watched silently as his friend wrote down each of his requests, noting that Octavia hadn’t answered him when he asked for her opinion on his idea. Regrettably, he found himself yearning for her approval, which she always seemed reluctant to give. When she did agree or provide an opinion, it often felt like she was doing so just to avoid a disagreement. Were all Lunarian women like this? Cold, secretive, yet non-combative? Octavia was so different from the women he grew up with, who always spoke their minds, whether they were asked for their opinion or not. He so desperately wanted to know what Octavia truly thought and felt.

“Thanks again, Sunni.” He stepped back from his friends door, “I’ll catch you later for that drink.”

“Octavia,” Flynn's green eyes met her beautiful blues, “Would you like to return home with me?” He asked, reaching out towards her to see if she'd allow him to take her hand in his once more. Without having to say so in front of Sunni, Flynn hoped that she knew he was asking so that they may go somewhere more private to continue their discussion about the letter she had received.

“Don’t mention it. Anything for a friend, see you later for that drink,” Sunni commented while waving them off before closing his door. He tried his best to close it quietly and not to seem rude at all. His forehead was placed against the frame with quiet inhales and exhales before he locked the door.

The man moved back over to his bed to get fresh socks on and before he knew it — he was out of it. Sunni ended up falling asleep and curled into the blankets and pillows instead of doing more. It might have been midday though he was exhausted.

Octavia stared at the man’s door for only a second before her husband got her attention. She glanced at him with a gentle smile, “I suppose that would be a good place to read that letter,” She spoke her thoughts out loud then her face twisted under the realization of what she said. “I mean, yes… Let’s go to your home,” She didn’t call it their home or the like. The woman felt like it was her husband’s home and she was there… intruding more than anything.

Unsure if Octavia even noticed his hand reaching for hers, Flynn felt a pang of rejection and awkwardly stuffed his hands into his pockets. “It's our home, Octavia.” He corrected her, feeling defeated after having repeated that to her multiple times over the past two months. “Let's go...” This time, away from the prying eyes of the tavern people or his best friend, Flynn let his guard down, allowing his voice to sound just as tired as he felt.

The emphasis from Flynn caused her to look smaller than usual. She messed up. A jolt of anxiety shook through her core as she stared at the ground for what felt like forever, though it was a mere few seconds before Flynn’s tired — no angry — no exhausted? Octavia was unsure why he sounded so different and it caused her to feel uneasy. “Yes, sir,” Was an automatic response that she used with her father. It would appease him every time she thought he was angry or disinterested in her.

Flynn stared at Octavia in almost disbelief as she called him sir. Did she think of him as some kind of superior? His eyes locked with hers, his brows furrowed in concern. “Octavia, I'm not... you don't have to do that. I'm not commanding you, I..." He sighed, unsure of what to say. He hated when he didn't know what to say. “I'm sorry. Let's just get home..." He forced a smile, his heart feeling torn on what to do with his wife. It seemed he could never do or say the right thing.

Hearing him apologize was such an odd thing to her when it came to where she was used to being. The Lunarian king would barely apologize to anyone let alone his eldest daughter so she looked surprised when Flynn apologized after she called him sir. Was that not the right thing to say? She felt conflicted about what to do now.

Octavia stood there while watching her husband descend the stairs before shaking her head and following after him. Without realizing what she was doing, the princess was picking at her fingertips, and nails, and scratching up her cuticles with anxiety. Elara would most likely bring it up later if she noticed.

As they descended the stairs in silence, Flynn opted to exit through the back door to avoid the gathering crowd of people at the front. However, upon stepping outside, Flynn was met with an even larger crowd. His eyes scanned the village square where several people stood in conversation, but his attention was drawn to a large entourage of soldiers in Aurelian armor gathered around the temple to Aelios. “Shit." He thought, watching from afar as they unloaded supplies from a carriage. He knew that the Sun Priestess was set to arrive soon, but she had come sooner than he had expected. The supplies were welcome, at least, but this added to Flynn's long list of tasks. He would need to greet the priestess sooner or later. For now, he made a beeline for the cabin with Octavia, doing his best to appear too busy to be stopped for conversation.

Exiting the back of the inn and noticing people out and about, she looked at her husband, and he was already halfway across the courtyard. Octavia hurried up to him and stayed a few feet behind him at all times. It was a natural habit of hers. She forced a smile as she found herself inside their cabin but had no words to say to her husband. She began to play with the shawl around her shoulders more than anything.

“We made it." Flynn sighed in relief as they entered the cabin, softly closing the door behind him. He leaned against the door for a moment, savoring the silence within their home. Personally getting to know every single person who entered Dawnhaven and ensuring they were taken care of was becoming a tad bit overwhelming, if he was honest.

Making way for their dining room, Flynn pulled out a seat for Octavia. “Let's see what your dramatic sister has in store." He joked, offering a warm smile as he waited for her to take a seat.

When they got to where Flynn wanted to be and he joked about her dramatic sister, Octavia only looked uneasy, “I… I really don’t even want to open it after what Pleiades said…” The young woman confessed while retrieving the letter from under her shawl and the inner clothing. Sylestar had such beautiful penmanship and she sketched little hearts around the wax seal of their royal family.

Looking down at the letter, she glanced up at Flynn, and looked back at the parchment. “What if it is bad news?” She asked. Octavia didn’t know if she could handle any kind of bad news. Actual bad news. Maybe she was overthinking and letting things get to her head.

Flynn frowned, his playful demeanor vanishing as he met his wife's eyes and saw her genuine worry. She must have downplayed her feelings about the letter earlier in the tavern, and he felt guilty for not noticing sooner. “We will get through it, if it is." He assured her, “Together. Whatever may come."

Octavia’s palms felt like they were becoming hot and sweaty with anticipation about this letter. Without any help from a utensil, she broke the seal and pulled out the letter from her sister. A deep inhale and a lightly shaky exhale could be heard from her before she placed the outer parchment on the table.

She stood there and opened the letter up, her eyes began to move:

“Dear Octavia,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. It has been far too long since we last spoke, and I miss you dearly. Life in the palace has become increasingly tumultuous, and I find myself in dire need of your wisdom and guidance more than ever.

There is something I must confide in you, something that has been weighing heavily on my heart. I believe our father’s actions have been far more sinister than we ever imagined. I fear he played a role in our dear mother’s untimely death…

That last line seemed to make Octavia pause for a long moment as her hands began to tremble and she could feel the stinging sensation of tears nipping at her eyes. A dry swallow could be heard from her as she was trying to find her place. She kept messing up and going to different sentences since she couldn’t focus after that line — our dear mother’s untimely death — though their mother was so healthy…

“Flynn… I… I’m…” Her words were coming out in between uncontrolled breaths as she dropped the piece of paper like it was poison to her fingertips and quickly left the room. Her door slammed shut only a moment later with the piercing sound of it locking behind her before loud and uncontrollable sobs could be heard muffled behind the walls and door of her room.

“Octavia, wait-"

She was gone before Flynn could stop her. Swiftly picking up the letter that had dropped onto the dining room table, Flynn read it over. Then again. And again. Slowly, he sat himself down at the table in silence and read the letter one more time for good measure. The Queen of Lunaris..... was dead? Why? How? What did this mean for the realm?

Heart racing, Flynn stood and followed Octavia's path upstairs to the room she had claimed as her bedroom. He leaned his forehead against her door, closing his eyes as he listened to her sobs. His heart ached terribly for her. What was he to do? The man who could never say the right thing was the only one here with her. How unlucky she was.

Lightly with the tip of his index fingers knuckle he knocked against the door, his forehead still resting on it and his eyes still shut with a look of agony. “Octavia." He said gently, “Please." His voice sounded desperate, more so than he would ever let anyone other than his wife hear. “Please let me in." He meant more than just inside the bedroom. He wanted her to allow him to know her, to allow him to comfort her in such a difficult time. But he was a stranger from a foreign territory to her. He couldn't blame her, but it didn't stop his heart from aching.

Octavia did not even hear the words that her husband called to her before she stormed off. Her emotions were running rampant with the knowledge of her mother passing away. The one individual that she felt had any control in this world to support her or back her from the unrighteous consequences and punishments of her father.

Dear Octavia,
I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. It has been far too long since we last spoke, and I miss you dearly. Life in the palace has become increasingly tumultuous, and I find myself in dire need of your wisdom and guidance more than ever.
There is something I must confide in you, something that has been weighing heavily on my heart. I believe our father's actions have been far more sinister than we ever imagined. I fear he played a role in our dear mother's untimely death.

A few weeks ago, I overheard a conversation between a few servants. They were speaking in hushed tones, unaware that I was nearby. What they said chilled me to the bone: they mentioned that Mother was at least eight weeks pregnant when she was pronounced dead after dinner in the evening. This revelation was shocking enough, but what followed has left me reeling with suspicion and dread.
Father has taken a new wife, a woman in her thirties, and she is already about a month with a child. The swiftness of this new union, coupled with the revelation of Mother’s pregnancy, raises too many alarming questions. Could it be that father orchestrated Mother’s demise to pave the way for this new marriage? The very thought makes my blood run cold, yet the pieces of this dark puzzle seem to fit too well.

I know how much you adored Mother and how deeply this letter will affect you. It is with a heavy heart that I bring this awful news and these suspicions to you, but I cannot bear this burden alone. You have always been the stronger, wiser sister, and I need your help to uncover the truth. If father is indeed responsible, we cannot allow his actions to go unchallenged. For Mother’s sake and for the sake of our kingdom, we must seek justice. Shouldn’t we?

Please, Octavia, write back as soon as you can. Your counsel means everything to me in this dark time. Together, I believe we can uncover the truth and protect our family’s legacy from further harm.

Please, please, please do not send your response through anyone else or let anyone other than Pleiades know. Father has banned me from sending letters, and I had to sneak this one out to you. He’s watching me constantly. I think he is suspicious of me and just like you were… I am finding myself locked inside my room without any means to escape or roam freely. He is at least kinder to me than he was to you, but I fear that his temper will get the best of him if this child is to be born a boy.

With all my love,

Your beloved sister, Sylestar.

---

<sub>Collaboration with @The Savant

Mentions: Na'Ri @Girlie Go Boom, Elara @Qia, Tia @c3p-0h</sub>