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Location: Town Square
Kira moved around her herb shop diligently, tidying up the space and ensuring everything was in its proper place. Once satisfied, she flipped the sign in the window to "closed". Turning the lock with a quiet click and pulling up the hood of her cloak, she stepped out into the cold darkness, the chilled air biting at her skin as she began her walk toward the town center.

As she approached the center of town, she kept a careful distance from the townspeople who had started to gather around the wooden stage just outside the inn. Her movements were precise and cautious, her presence almost invisible except for the glow of her orange eyes that betrayed her stealth. She lingered in the shadows, blending into the darkness as best as she could.

From her vantage point, Kira’s eyes swept over the crowd and landed on Gadez, who was speaking with Sya, the blight-born cyclops who ran the inn. She watched them closely, noting the annoyance that flared in Sya's single eye and the tenseness in her shoulders. Gadez seemed to be talking fervently, his body language animated, while Sya’s posture remained stiff, his expression growing more exasperated by the second.

Kira couldn’t help but wonder if Gadez made it his mission to irritate everyone he encountered. There was something about his demeanor that seemed intentionally provocative, as if he enjoyed pushing people’s buttons just to see how they would react. She observed their interaction with a curious gaze, trying to decipher what exactly Gadez aimed to achieve with his antics. Was he simply testing Sya's patience, or was there a deeper game he was playing?

Kira was not one to intervene in others' affairs, so she remained in the shadows, content to let Sya handle Gadez on her own. She shifted her gaze away from them, her sharp eyes sweeping over the crowd that had gathered around the wooden stage as they awaited the royal couple. Her attention paused on a handful of people she had never seen before—strangers in the familiar mix of townsfolk and travelers.

Among them, one blight-born caught her eye, their entire form appearing to be made of flame itself. Kira watched the creature curiously, noting the way people around them shifted uneasily, instinctively clearing a path as the blight-born moved towards the stage. Their discomfort with the flame-being’s presence was palpable, and she couldn’t help but find it odd. In Dawnhaven, blight-born were usually accepted, their unique appearances and abilities taken in stride by the locals. Yet, they seemed wary, keeping their distance from the fiery figure.

Intrigued by this, Kira studied them closely, wondering what it was about them that made even the more accepting townspeople uneasy. As she did, her attention was drawn away by the sound of marching. She turned her gaze to see the guards of both Aurelia and Lunaris entering the square, their armored forms moving in disciplined unison as they lined up around the perimeter. The sight of them brought a ripple of tension through the crowd, and Kira’s eyes narrowed slightly. Something important was about to happen.

The display of force seemed a tad excessive, even for a royal announcement. She wondered what important message the Prince and Princess had for them today that warranted such a dramatic prelude. The Prince, from what she knew, was not one to indulge in ostentatious displays or theatrics. He was typically more reserved, preferring quiet strength over showmanship despite his Aurelian heritage. She had found him generally more tolerable than the other Aurelians she had encountered in the past, though he seemed naive at times.

For the Prince to deploy his guards like this meant that the news he carried must be imperative. It wasn’t in his nature to gather a crowd or to make a spectacle without good reason. As she stood in the shadows, Kira’s mind raced with possibilities. Was this about the growing unrest in the region, or something even more pressing? Whatever it was, she knew it had to be significant to compel the Prince to break from his usual demeanor and present it with such a heavy-handed display of unity and authority.

Kira’s thoughts came to a sudden halt as a sweet, intoxicating scent wafted through the air, instantly grabbing her attention. It was the scent of a particular blood type, one that stirred something primal and ravenous deep within her. Her eyes dilated involuntarily, snapping toward the direction of the scent, her senses sharpening with carnal hunger. Before she could catch herself, her gaze landed on Elara, a childhood friend who had grown up alongside her within the castle walls while Kira was under the King’s watchful eye.

Elara was talking with an intriguing blight-born Kira had never seen before, a figure glowing fluorescent with mushrooms seemingly sprouting from her skin, giving her an otherworldly appearance. Despite the strangeness of the blight-born, all Kira could focus on was the silver-haired handmaiden. Memories of their shared past flashed through her mind in an instant—days filled with laughter, secrets whispered in hidden corners, and a friendship forged in the crucible of royal intrigue. But now, those memories were overlaid with the stark reality of what she had become. The blight-born monster inside her snarled, clawing at the surface, demanding to be set free.

Kira quickly tore her gaze away, her breath hitching as she forced the instinct down, shoving the beast back into its cage. She turned her focus back to the stage, fighting with every ounce of her being to suppress the darkness that threatened to consume her. A silent curse slipped through her lips, berating herself for her weakness.

This wasn’t who she was—at least, not who she wanted to be. She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms, the sharp sting helping to ground her in the present. Her attention zeroed in on the stage, her focus now entirely on controlling herself, on keeping the monster at bay. Two years had passed since her transformation, but the struggle never seemed to get easier. The hunger, the darkness, it was always there, lurking just beneath the surface. But Kira was determined not to let it win, not today, not ever.




Mentions: Gadez @Dezuel, Sya @PrinceAlexus, Ashe @Timemaster, Elara @Qia, Cassandra @Lu





Current Moon Phase: Waning Gibbous | Current Weather: 40 Degrees, a light breeze and cloudy skies | Current Time: 10am





The townspeople of Dawnhaven gather in the town square in front of a hastily built wooden stage, constructed by Aurelian guards earlier that morning, with the stage standing against the backdrop of the Eye of the Beholder. Aurelian and Lunarian guards line the streets and surround the stage, their armor gleaming in the moonlight. The Aurelian guards, in bright silver and gold, stand beside the Lunarian guards, whose darker armor reflects the light with a subtle shimmer, hinting at the uneasy alliance between the two groups.The warm glow from the inn's windows and the scent of food from its kitchen add a comforting ambiance to the scene, but the focus is on the empty stage, where all await the arrival of the Prince and Princess.

Location: Orion's Home | Collaboration with @Qia
Flynn strode through the dimly lit gravel streets of Dawnhaven, his thoughts churning with a list of concerns he needed to address with Orion. The events of the past night and this morning had brought more complications than he had anticipated, and he was keen to seek his advisor’s counsel. Orion’s wisdom had always been a guiding force, and Flynn was eager to hear his thoughts on everything that had transpired.

Reaching Orion’s door, Flynn knocked and took a deep breath, bracing himself for the conversation to come. There was much to discuss, and little time to waste.

The sound of Flynn’s knock echoed through the dimly lit room, each rap on the door resonating with a sense of urgency that gave pause to Orion’s actions. The faint glow of the moon filtered through the window, casting long shadows on the walls that seemed to dance with the flickering candlelight. Orion, seated at his desk, looked up from the documents he was reviewing, his eyes narrowing as he tried to gauge the gravity of the situation. The urgency in the knock was unmistakable, a clear signal that the prince- for who else could it be? Willis didn’t seem like a knocker-required immediate counsel. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever news Flynn might bring, his mind already racing through possible scenarios, all of them dealing with the fledgling blightborn in his temporary care.

Orion rose from his chair, his movements swift and purposeful as he made his way to the door, the wooden floor creaking softly under his weight. He opened it to reveal Flynn, whose expression was one of concern. Stress. It had to be that.

“Your Highness,” the blightborn greeted, his tone respectful yet familiar, a delicate balance he had perfected over his time of service to the crown. “What troubles you this evening?” He gestured to a chair, inviting Flynn to sit and discuss the matters at hand, his own mind already preparing for the weighty conversation that was sure to follow.

Flynn stepped into Orion’s home, his expression grave as he met his blightborn advisor’s red eyes. “I’m afraid that much troubles me, Orion,” he began, his voice low and measured. “We have a town meeting to lead in an hour, and there’s much we need to discuss beforehand. I apologize for the short notice, but the urgency cannot be overstated.”

Taking the offered seat, Flynn exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I’ve just received some terrible news—news that was revealed to me only yesterday.” He paused, the weight of the information heavy in the air. “The Queen of Lunaris is dead, and she has been for quite some time. It appears the King has tightly controlled this information, deliberately keeping it from becoming widespread news.”

Flynn leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. “And if that wasn’t enough, the King is already married to another woman, one who is rumored to be with child.” He shook his head, the disbelief still fresh. "This news is grim and could be a sign of the King's possible ulterior motives. According to Octavia, the late Queen was well-loved, and this will likely upset many. We must carefully decide how to present it to the town. We need to be cautious, but also transparent. The people deserve to know the truth, but we cannot afford to provoke the wrong response."

His gaze hardened as he added, “Orion, I must admit—I do not trust the King of Lunaris. There’s something about all of this that feels off, as if he has ulterior motives that we’re not yet privy to. I fear he may be using this secrecy to further some agenda, one that could put us all at risk.”

Flynn’s grave expression and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air, each syllable sinking into the room like a stone dropped into a still pond. The dim light from the moon cast long shadows on the walls, adding to the somber atmosphere that seemed to wrap around them like a shroud. The news of the Queen’s death and the King’s secrecy was a bombshell, shattering the fragile peace that had barely held them together. Orion clenched his fists briefly, leaning against the nearby wall with crossed arms as his mind deliberated their options.

“This news is indeed troubling,” the blightborn finally spoke. “The secrecy surrounding the Queen’s death and the King’s swift remarriage are highly suspicious. We must tread carefully there.” His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned Flynn’s face for any additional clues, his mind already piecing together the potential ramifications. Nonetheless, he leaned forward slightly, his posture conveying his readiness to tackle the issue head-on.

“I can draft a statement for the town meeting, or read over what you have already. We should also consider reaching out to any allies you can trust to gauge their reactions and gather more information about the King’s actions. This will help us anticipate any further moves he might make.”

Flynn nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair as he took out the folded piece of parchment containing the speech he had written earlier that morning. “I wrote this earlier today. And that’s another issue—our allies.” He sighed, unfolding the paper and placing it on the table for Orion to read over. “I met with the Lady of Durnatell this morning—the one I summoned for assistance with supplies.”

His gaze met Orion’s, his expression heavy with the weight of the revelation. “She’s been turned into a blight-born,” he said, letting the words linger in the air, knowing Orion would grasp the full implications. “The King must not know yet. If he does, he’ll surely have her head for it, and he’ll put someone else in charge of Durnatell.” Flynn shook his head, his frustration palpable. “She’s offered to live here, as if it were a gift to us. Yet I know she needs to remain out of sight from the King. She needs protection.”

Flynn’s expression hardened as he continued. “But she’s resistant to questioning. Tried to deny the interview we conduct with all blight-born. We will have to deal with that at a later time, but… we need Durnatell’s supply trade. I can’t afford to push her too hard. We’re walking a fine line here.”

“Hmm…this does complicate things significantly,” Orion said, walking over to pick up and skim over the parchment paper containing the prince’s speech. “Her resistance to questioning is troubling, but we cannot afford to alienate her either.” He paused, giving his mind time to race through potential strategies and responses. “Perhaps I could speak with this Lady directly,” Orion suggested, his tone thoughtful. “As a fellow Blight-Born, I might be able to offer her a perspective that she can relate to. It could help build trust and encourage her to cooperate.”

While Flynn reflected on this idea, Orion’s red eyes scanned the page in his hands as he took a seat, absorbing the prince’s carefully chosen words. The flickering candlelight on the table cast a warm glow on the parchment, illuminating the inked letters with a soft, golden hue that seemed to breathe life into the words. The blightborn’s mind continued to churn, considering the implications of each sentence, each phrase, as if they were pieces of a complex puzzle. He knew that their approach had to be both strategic and empathetic, a delicate dance of diplomacy and understanding that could not afford a single misstep. The room was silent except for the faint rustle of the parchment, the sound only coming to an end once he was finished with his reading, leaving a heavy stillness in its wake.

Flynn considered his advisor’s suggestion as Orion read over the speech, nodding in agreement. “Yes, let’s arrange that. Given how the Lunarians have treated the blight-born, it’s understandable she might be distrustful of humans.”

Orion found the prince’s words to be thoughtful and well-crafted, reflecting a growing maturity in his leadership that filled him with a quiet sense of pride. He glanced up at Flynn, a small smile playing on his lips, the kind that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. His eyes conveyed a sense of approval and respect, a silent acknowledgment of the prince’s progress. “I must say, your writing has improved significantly. You’ve come a long way,” he remarked, his tone warm and encouraging.

Flynn’s lips curved into a genuine smile at Orion’s compliment, a brief but heartfelt moment of pride flashing in his eyes. “I owe much of that to your guidance over the last two months. Thank you.” he said, his voice warm with appreciation and his gaze held Orion’s, a silent acknowledgment of the advisor’s significant role.

Flynn's smile lingered for a moment before becoming serious once more. "Speaking of your guidance..." he began, his tone shifting slightly, "how was it with Willis last night?" There was a hint of insinuation in his words, suggesting that he knew Orion had likely needed to guide Willis to behave. "And where is he now?"

Orion’s eyes met Flynn’s, a hint of a strained smile playing on his lips.

“Willis is… a handful, to say the least,” Orion replied, his tone light but honest. “Last night was a test of patience, but we managed. We were together last at the blacksmith’s, getting his equipment repaired. But then we parted ways so he could take a look at the post office.” He shook his head, the hint of a smile from before making a full appearance, a rare moment of genuine amusement breaking through his usual stoicism. “Considering it still stands, I assume that the errand went as well as it could have.”

Flynn listened to Orion's account, nodding along at the mention of Willis’s antics. As Orion mentioned the post office, Flynn's expression shifted as realized he had nearly forgotten to mention what had happened with Pleiades.

"Actually, that’s another thing I need to tell you about.” Flynn said, his tone turning more serious. “Willis won’t be working at the post office. There was an incident with Pleiades earlier." He paused, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "I went to tell Pleiades that he would have a new employee, but Willis got there before I did and Pleiades refused to have him work there. He said Willis is a danger and he’s not wrong…” He sighed and shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know what happened between them, but I… let my emotions get the better of me.”

Flynn hesitated, his discomfort evident. “Octavia told me she was…cuddling with Pleiades in her bed yesterday. And she fell asleep with him in her bed.” Flynn’s brows furrowed as he glared down at the table, conjuring up images of Pleiades in his wife's bed while Flynn himself had barely been allowed in her room. “I suppose she felt guilty and wanted to tell me, and both her and Pleiades say nothing happened, but…” He looked directly at Orion, his unease clear in his eyes. “Truth be told, it... made me extremely uncomfortable." Flynn's voice tightened slightly, “I don’t know what to make of it… Maybe this is normal behavior for Lunarians?”

Orion did his best to hide his surprise, feeling a surge of empathy and concern tug at his undead heart. The prince’s vulnerability and the personal nature of his concerns were clear; each word was a window into the struggles he was experiencing. Orion thought carefully about how to offer both support and practical advice. He knew that Flynn needed more than just a strategic plan at this moment—he needed reassurance. After all, his role was not just to advise but to be a pillar of strength for the prince in these trying times. Resolving to be the steadfast support Flynn needed, Orion prepared himself to help navigate through the challenges ahead.

“I understand your…discomfort,” Orion began, his voice steady and reassuring. “As for Lunarian costumes, they can be quite different from ours, but that doesn’t mean we should dismiss your feelings.” He hesitated here, not out of insecurity but to really think over what he wanted to say to his charge before saying it.

“Regarding Willis, I think we need to find a suitable role for him that keeps him occupied and out of trouble. Give him…tasks that perhaps allow him to use his skills, not just in flying but other things,” Orion suggested. “As for Pleiades and Octavia….” He looked away for a moment, the heaviness of his own memories pressing down on him before he met the prince’s eyes again. “My wife and I….before our separation…well…” He sighs, the pain of his past still a fresh wound.

This was still difficult for him to mull over. His family, the memories of what once was and what could never be again, haunted him.

“Honesty and openness go a long way,” Orion began, his voice gentle yet firm, each word chosen with care, “When you have a good time, you should express how you feel to the princess, without accusation. Seek to understand her perspective as well.” A smile, a sadder one this time, graced Orion’s lips, a fleeting glimpse into the sorrow that lingered in his own heart.

“This is no rejection on her part. I promise you.”

Flynn listened intently to Orion’s words, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. He appreciated the guidance, but it didn’t erase the sting of Octavia’s earlier words. He looked away, frowning slightly as he recalled their last conversation.

“Octavia said she would have rather died than come to Dawnhaven,” Flynn admitted, his voice tinged with bitterness. “Hearing that from her…it angered me. I know she’s struggling with all of this, but I’m trying to save our lives. I’m struggling too.” He sighed, trying to release the flash of anger that built up in his chest again. “Maybe I was too harsh with her when we last spoke. I acted out of anger, not understanding.” He paused, his thoughts drifting to his father, a man who had never hesitated to punish harshly for even the slightest of grievances. “Still, I know my father would have handled it far worse. He never had patience for anyone who questioned his decisions. At least I didn’t—” He stopped himself, shaking his head as if to dispel the thoughts of his father. “I don’t want to become my father.”

He turned back to Orion, his expression softening slightly. “I’ll try to reach out to her again, to connect and see things from her perspective. I need to keep my emotions in check.” Flynn took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of resolve amidst his uncertainty. If anything, at least Orion had made him feel slightly better about the entire situation.

Reaching for the speech he had written earlier, Flynn folded it carefully and tucked it into his pocket. “Thank you, Orion, for your assistance and your advice, as always. I need to see if Octavia is back at the house before our meeting.” He rose from his seat, giving Orion a grateful nod. “I must take my leave, but please join me on stage for the town meeting. The guards are putting it together now.”

“Anytime, of course,” Orion said, giving a sincere smile. He rose from his seat with the same fluid grace as the prince, walking to the door and opening it for his guest out of courtesy.

With that, Flynn made his way to the door, his mind already racing with thoughts of what he would say to Octavia, determined to approach the situation with more patience and understanding this time.




Mentions: Octavia, Pleiades @The Savant, Willis @BOOM, Olivia @amorphical
@sly13 We're still accepting! We'd be glad to have you :)
Haha! Welcome! Feel free to hop in the Discord with us if you want - we're fairly active in there!
@GambolMuse Please PM me your character sheet first :)
@GambolMuse We'd be glad to have you! :) let me know if you have any questions

Location: Herb Shop
Kira listened intently as Gadez spoke, his words flowing with a mix of coldness and theatrical flair that piqued her curiosity. His boldness amused her, particularly when he described her as "short yet effective." It was a compliment she could appreciate. However, the insinuation that her herb shop was a mess didn't sit well. She felt a flicker of irritation but kept it well-hidden behind her calm, calculated demeanor.

Her eyes never left him as he continued his monologue, his gaze drifting over her and her shop with an unsettling scrutiny. She found him intriguing, but that intrigue was tempered by a healthy dose of skepticism. His words were too smooth, his compliments laced with subtle digs that made her question his true intentions. She had come across many similar types of people during her training as an assassin. Gadez was clearly no mere gardener, and Kira wasn’t one to take anyone at face value—especially not someone who so effortlessly mingled flattery with critique.

"Short yet effective," she echoed with a faint smile, acknowledging his compliment. "I’d agree with that." Her tone was even, almost nonchalant, but there was a sharpness in her gaze that conveyed she was not one to be trifled with. Tilting her head slightly, Kira’s expression turned thoughtful. "I wasn’t aware the Princess was in need of a gardener," she said, her tone mild but laced with curiosity. "I suppose it makes sense, given the state of things."

Kira let her eyes sweep over the assortment of herbs and plants she had painstakingly gathered and nurtured. "Gardening isn’t really my specialty," she said, her tone practical and matter-of-fact. "The land here is harsh, and the ground grows too cold for anything to survive for long. Most of what you see here has been foraged from the forest. The wilds still hold some life, even in this unforgiving place."

Kira’s gaze shifted back to Gadez, her demeanor calm as she explained further. "I manage with a few plants indoors where the environment can be controlled, but for the most part, it’s a matter of finding what already exists in the wilderness and making use of it. The forest provides, if you know where to look." Her words were straightforward, devoid of any embellishment. She wasn’t trying to impress him, only stating the reality of the situation. "I appreciate your offer, but my needs are somewhat unconventional. The ground may be too cold, but the forest—well, it’s resilient."

Kira studied him for a moment, weighing his offer. "If you truly want to be of use here," she began, a hint of challenge lacing her words, "you’ll need more than gardening skills. Foraging is what keeps these shelves stocked. It’s not just about knowing plants—it’s about understanding the land, knowing where to look, and being able to defend yourself against what dwells in the dark."

She regarded him with a sharp, assessing gaze and a brief look at the armor hidden beneath his cloak. "You seem capable, despite being a humble gardener. Do you know how to forage and defend yourself? Can you navigate the wilds and find what others overlook? If so, then perhaps you could be of some use to me, Gadez Paladice."

She repeated his name, tasting it as if weighing it for truth. Her slight smile remained, polite and controlled, but her eyes held a wary glint. She wasn’t fooled by his polished words, nor did she trust his intentions. But for now, she was content to play along, intrigued to see where this interaction might lead.




Interactions: Gadez @Dezuel
Heya everyone! Just wanted to mention here for the people outside of the Discord - please start wrapping up your scenes when possible. We are going to time skip to 10am for the town meeting soon.

I'll have another Kira post out soon, then one more Flynn post with Orion before the skip. :)

Location: The Royal Cabin
Flynn left the Seluna temple with a scowl, the echo of Desya's invasive presence still gnawing at him. He couldn't shake the unease that settled in his chest, a growing suspicion of the priest and his casual disregard for the sanctity of a person's thoughts. Desya’s claim that anyone entering the temple was, by default, agreeing to have their minds searched felt like a fabrication and a manipulation of trust. Flynn decided he would ask Octavia about it, needing to verify the truth of the so-called Lunarian custom.

As he walked, the memory of Octavia slamming the door after their argument resurfaced, tightening the knot of anxiety in his stomach. He wasn’t looking forward to facing her again, not with the way they’d left things. He felt a pang of guilt thinking about Sunni, who he’d left to handle the aftermath. The thought of what might be waiting for him at home weighed heavily on his mind, and Flynn couldn't help but wonder if his friend had managed to calm Octavia—or if things had only worsened in his absence.

Making his way back toward the cabin, his thoughts churned with a mix of frustration, guilt, and confusion. He knew he could have handled the situation with Octavia better, but it was difficult to navigate with the pressure of their lives hanging in the balance. The weight of responsibility bore down on him constantly, and for Octavia to disregard it as if it were nothing felt like a betrayal. He couldn’t understand how she could be so cavalier about something that kept him up night after night.

Then there was the matter of Pleiades. The image of Octavia comfortably cuddled up with the blight-born disturbed him, stirring a deep discomfort he couldn't shake. Pleiades had assured him that nothing had happened between them, but the reassurance felt hollow. In Aurelia, a woman in bed with another man was scandalous, a clear sign she was seeking a way out of her marriage, regardless of how innocent the situation might be. The impropriety of the situation unsettled Flynn, leaving him questioning why he had ever believed there was a chance they might grow to truly care for one another someday.

His emotions surged wildly, a storm of insecurity and resentment brewing as he continued down gravel pathways, his eyes staring ahead but clearly lost in his thoughts. He barely registered the path before him, his mind too caught up in the turmoil of what had become his life. All of it combined had left him feeling more lost than ever.

Finally reaching his cabin, Flynn eased the door open, the hinges creaking softly as he did. He carefully stepped inside, closing the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to alert anyone to his return. Pausing, he listened intently for any sign of movement, voices, or the faintest sound that might suggest someone was inside. The house was silent.

Flynn's brow furrowed slightly as he took in the quiet. It was unusual for Octavia to have left the house, as she had rarely ventured out these last two months. While part of him felt a tinge of relief at her absence, the unexpectedness of it stirred an unsettling feeling in him. The thought of how their last interaction had ended, and the guilt of leaving Sunni to handle Octavia alone pressed on his conscience. He couldn’t shake the nervous edge that accompanied the knowledge of her absence, as though it were another sign of the discord brewing between them.

Certain he was alone, Flynn peeked outside again, spotting a guard standing watch nearby. With a nod, he motioned the guard over and instructed him to have a servant fetch bathwater and fill his bath. Satisfied the message would be relayed, Flynn returned inside, heading to his study. The quiet of the house felt eerie, a stark contrast to the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. Settling at his desk, he began drafting the speech he would give at the town meeting in a few hours, his focus gradually sharpening as he put pen to paper.

Sitting at his desk, quill in hand, the soft scratch of ink on parchment filled the quiet of his study. For the next thirty minutes, he carefully composed his speech, each word chosen with precision. He felt the gravity of the message he was about to relay and wanted to ensure that it was clear and impactful. The quill dipped and swirled, the parchment slowly filling with his thoughts and intentions. Throughout his speech, Flynn had deliberately included pauses for Octavia to speak about the Late Queen. However, the anxiety in his gut suggested he might need to omit these sections. Octavia had expressed a desire to address the town herself, but her current absence from the house gave him a hint of doubt.

After what felt like a small eternity, Flynn set down the quill and leaned back, letting out a quiet sigh. He read over the speech one final time, his eyes scanning each line to ensure it conveyed the gravity of the situation. Satisfied with his work, he gently folded the parchment and took it with him as he made his way upstairs to his bedchambers.

As he entered, Flynn was greeted by the sight of a steaming bath, just as he had requested. The servant had done their job well, and the warmth from the water beckoned to him. Setting the speech aside, Flynn began to undress, the chill of the day clinging to his skin. He stepped into the bath, and a wave of relief washed over him as the warm water enveloped his body.

For a moment, he simply savored the sensation, letting the heat seep into his muscles and melt away the tension that had built up over the day. He then began to scrub himself clean, ridding his body of the sweat from his morning run and the nerves that had accumulated throughout the day. The water soothed his mind as well as his body, offering him a brief respite from the burdens he carried.

Flynn finished his bath, letting the last of the tension wash away with the water. He dried himself off and donned attire more befitting of his station as Prince. As he fastened the last button, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the challenges ahead. For a brief moment, he silently thanked Aelios for Octavia’s absence, appreciating the rare opportunity to find some solace and relaxation. Yet, even as he allowed himself this small reprieve, the lingering unease of her absence weighed on him, casting a shadow over the fleeting peace.

Forcing his mind to shift to the task at hand, Flynn thought of his trusted advisor, Orion. Flynn needed his counsel now more than ever—not just for advice on how to address the town, but also to share the burdens of everything that had transpired since they last spoke. With one hour left until the town meeting, Flynn grabbed his sword and left his home, setting out to find Orion and determined to face what lay ahead with the support of his advisor.

9AM




Mentions: Octavia @The Savant, Orion @Qia
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