The Muse

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Hot Springs

Kira smirked at Orion’s reply, her lips curving with sly amusement. “A night or two?” she teased, her voice carrying a sultry tone to it now. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” She let the innuendo hang between them for a beat, enjoying the light tension it created. It almost felt like old times. Finding herself next to another noble, whispering sweet nothings in their ear. Coaxing secrets from their lips.

But as Orion began to open up about the Prince and how Flynn had given him another chance—trusted him when others didn’t—the mischief slowly drained from her expression. She hadn’t expected Orion to open up about his past with the Prince, much less with such honesty. It was clear there was deep loyalty there. He wasn’t there just for show, then. They truly had a bond of some sort.

A flicker of something like jealousy stirred in her chest. Every position she’d ever held had been out of necessity, driven by obligation or survival—never because she truly cared for the one giving the orders. Instinctively, she was mindful about committing all his words to memory. Though, she did not know who she was being so meticulous for anymore. She no longer sold secrets in exchange for her soul, yet it felt natural.

Kira wasn’t one to bare her soul so freely, but what Orion described aligned with the version of the Prince she had encountered. Flynn had given her another chance too, despite knowing little about her beyond the surface. She had gone through with his little interview he conducted on all blight-born, but she had revealed only enough to satisfy him and make him believe she was trustworthy. To her, he seemed rather naive and idealistic, yet still kinder than any noble she had ever met—let alone royalty.

The royals and nobility in Lunaris were far from kind—cold and calculating was more accurate. Flynn’s warmth had been disarming at first, but Kira had learned long ago that kindness often concealed ulterior motives. There was always an angle. Always something hidden beneath the surface. Flynn’s efforts to build Dawnhaven as a haven for blight-born was admirable, but she could see desperation clung to him like a shadow. The prophecy levied against him looming overhead. She didn’t blame him, but he wasn’t doing this out of the pure kindness of his heart. Flynn, with all his supposed benevolence, couldn’t be exempt from suspicion. No one was.

When Orion turned the question back on her, asking if she had any connections from her past that she treasured, Kira’s body instinctively tensed. She didn’t care for questions like these, ones that probed too close to things she preferred to keep buried. In the past, she would have shifted the conversation with ease, steering it back into safer waters, charming her way out of answering. She could tell them a lie or five, fabricating another life she had never lived. She had been good at that—using her looks, her wit, her body language to disarm people, to enchant them. To keep them exactly where she wanted them.

But now, after everything that had happened, it felt harder to grasp that part of herself. Deep down it was still there, yet it would slip through her fingers when she needed it most.

Her amber eyes dropped to the water, watching the gentle ripples without really seeing them. She didn’t respond right away, her mind grappling with memories she’d long buried, feelings she’d shut away. Elara.

For a moment, she thought about how much isolation had changed her. Perhaps even more than the blight. It was as if the parts of her that had once been sharp and magnetic were dulled, eroded by time and solitude. She could feel herself clamming up, her usual defenses rising like an impenetrable wall.

Thankfully, Sya began to speak, offering a welcome distraction. Kira looked at her with a sense of relief, letting the conversation flow away from her, thankful that she hadn’t been pressed to speak first.

Kira listened quietly, though Sya’s story didn’t surprise her. It was a familiar one—entire towns swallowed by blight, bloodlines erased, families shattered. Kira had heard versions of it before, countless times across Lunaris. Even Kira had been a victim of a similar story, a village lost just as quickly. Royals turned a blind eye, whether out of indifference or malice, it didn’t matter. The result was the same. The loss was the same.

She grabbed the bottle Orion had set beside him and took another drink, her movements steady and deliberate, lacking the hesitation she had noted in Orion’s earlier. As Sya spoke about the stable boy she might have had a life with, Kira offered a closed-lip smile when their eyes met, one of feigned amusement and understanding. Sya was clearly trying to connect with her, but the effort missed its mark.

Kira had never understood the desire to talk about men in such a gossipy way, though she knew it was popular, especially within the noble circles. In the past she’d fake interest and indulge people if it got her the information she needed. But to her it was childish. Perhaps it was because she had never grown up with the same experiences as other teenage girls. Gossiping about boys seemed trivial—stupid, even. Sya’s attempt at bonding felt foreign, though Kira wouldn’t let her know that.

When Sya finished, Kira sensed the unspoken expectation in the air, as if Sya and Orion were waiting for her to share her own story. To spill her soul just as Sya had. Yeah, right. Kira wasn’t about to unravel her own scars for strangers, no matter how much she might relate to their stories. She wasn’t that foolish.

Sidestepping the question entirely, she reached inward and attempted to grasp that charisma she had once wielded with such ease. She shifted in her seat, leaning forward to offer Sya the bottle of wine. "You're doing a good job running the inn." Kira said with a small, practiced smile, trying to inject some warmth into her voice. "The Prince made a good choice in you." She shifted her gaze to Orion, adding, “In both of you.”

As Sya took the bottle, Kira settled back, hoping no one would press her for more. Still, she knew she couldn’t leave it at that. It wasn’t enough to derail the topic at hand. She needed to say something bolder, something that would disarm them and make them focus on themselves again. Although none of them were human anymore, blight-born still shared similar flaws—people loved to talk about themselves.

"Maybe you'll find another tall stable boy around here." she added, a teasing edge in her voice as she played off Sya’s earlier comment. Her gaze slid to Orion, her lips in a mischievous smirk once more. "And what about you? Are you in the market for a stable boy too?" she joked, her tone playfully casual. She knew he was treading dangerous waters—talking about loved ones with fellow blight-born who had likely lost everything—but Sya had been the one to bring up the topic, and Kira knew it’d work to shift the focus. At least for a moment. Anything to keep the conversation from lingering on her.

The past could stay where it belonged—buried. At least, for tonight.

---

_{Interactions: Orion @Qia, Sya @PrinceAlexus}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Residential Area - Outside

Eris trudged through the dark, icy streets, the frozen ground crunching beneath her boots. The torch lights flickered faintly along the path, guiding her toward the residential area on the west side of town. Wrapped snugly in her flaming coat, she barely felt the biting cold around her. The magical warmth from the coat radiated out, a protective barrier against winter.

Still, her thoughts refused to settle. Despite her best efforts, her mind kept wandering back to the tavern, back to Daphne, who was no doubt charming Nathaniel with her confident words and striking presence. What flirtatious words might be passing between them right now? Eris clenched her jaw, pushing the image out of her head. There was no point dwelling on any of that. She had more important things to think about.

She shifted her focus, mentally listing everything she needed for the expedition. Number one was this coat, of course. But what else? She wished she had Aurelian-made clothing that were better suited for winter, something sturdier for the harsh elements. Perhaps there were some warm Lunarian imports she could purchase in town. Or maybe Ivor could hunt down a fur pelt for her. That would help.

Then there was the matter of food. They'd have to ration carefully, especially if the group was large. How long would they be out there? What would they even find? Her thoughts flicked to weapons. She’d never been trained with a sword. She knew both defensive and offensive magic, yes, but without the sun, it would be extremely risky to rely on it.

A dagger might be a better option—lightweight, easy to carry. She could buy one from the local blacksmith and at least try to defend herself, if it came to that. But even the thought of wielding it made her nervous. Could she really stab someone—or something if it came to it? Her breath fogged in the frigid air as her heart raced a little at the thought of combat. She had never been much of a fighter. The uncertainty of it all made nerves bundle in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. She would manage. She had to.

Just then, her thoughts were interrupted by a voice cutting through the chilled air, calling her name. The sound startled her, and she stopped in her tracks. She glanced around the dark streets, eyes squinting as she peered into the shadows. The torches barely illuminated the area beyond a few feet, and most of the surrounding landscape was swallowed in darkness. Was she imagining things?

But then, in the distance, she spotted two figures standing beside a carriage. One of them... was that Nathaniel? She focused on them, trying to make out their faces. The silhouette seemed to match his stature, at least. Her heart fluttered unexpectedly. Had he really left Daphne to come after her? A foolish move on his part, but the thought brought a small smile to her lips.

She watched as the shorter figure—Nathaniel—called her name again, a conjured magical hand extending to shake the hand of the other person beside him. She hesitated for a moment, her mind reminding her of the work that awaited her in the Alchemy Chambers. But it would be so rude of her to keep walking away…

"I'm here!" she called back to him, carefully making her way over the icy road. She was determined not to slip and make a fool of herself again—especially not in front of Nathaniel.

When she finally reached them, she stopped, her breath catching slightly as she recognized the other figure standing with Nathaniel. "Oh!" she exclaimed, surprised. She quickly bowed, instinctively respectful. "Lord Raunefeldt. I wasn’t expecting to see you here in Dawnhaven."

She straightened, meeting Ayel’s gaze. She didn’t know him well, and they had never interacted directly, but his reputation preceded him. His family was renowned, closely tied to the royal family. Their connection to the royals was often discussed in noble circles, and her own mother had always held a complicated, if not cold, relationship with Ayel’s mother. Eris, however, maintained a polite facade, knowing the importance of such connections.

"My name is Eris Hightower, lead Sage here. I heard your family recently donated a large sum to the Research Academy," she continued, offering him a sincere smile. “Thank you so much. Your family’s support means a great deal to our efforts here, and I’ll do my best to ensure that the funds go to good use.”

She bowed again, deeply, showing her respect for his family's generosity. When she rose, she stole a glance at Nathaniel, who didn’t seem particularly thrilled, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. Was it Ayel’s presence that bothered him? She had heard about Ayel’s rather abrasive nature, so it wouldn’t surprise her. Had Ayel said something to upset him? Or was it her that upset him? Her mind raced, but she pushed the thoughts aside for now.

Turning back to Ayel, she offered a small smile. “There’s a feast at the tavern, hosted by the Prince. You should join everyone inside for food and warmth before you catch a cold out here.” She gestured toward the tavern, hoping to steer the conversation in a lighter direction as she tried to gauge the undercurrent of tension between the two men.

---

_{Interactions: Nathaniel @Echotech71, Ayel @Dezuel}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Eye of the Beholder / Aelios Temple | Time: 12pm

For a moment, Flynn considered pulling Amaya aside, his guilty conscience urging him to tell her everything. He quickly ran through several scenarios on how he might phrase it, but even in his mind he fumbled over the words. He needed more time to think it through. Now wasn’t the time. Plus, she was clearly busy.

His eyes narrowed, resting on the man on the ground, dark-haired and rough-looking. Concern etched across the faces of those around him, but the man’s attention laid fully on Amaya. The moment they locked eyes, the man’s expression shifted. He flashed her a sly mischievous smirk—small, but unmistakably suggestive—directed right at her. Flynn couldn't hear what they were saying, the conversation muted by the distance and the ambient noise of the tavern crowd, but the man's intentions were clear enough. He was flirting with her—boldly, and without a care.

A strange feeling coiled inside Flynn, a sharp irritation that he hadn’t anticipated. Civilians flirting with royalty wasn’t uncommon, especially when it came to someone as striking as Amaya. He had seen it happen with his sisters before, and encountered it himself countless times. Typically he would have brushed it off without a second thought. But this felt different.

The way the man looked at her, the easy confidence in his smile—it stirred something deeper. He tried to push the feeling aside, reminding himself that he had more pressing matters to deal with. And what right did he have in getting jealous? Hell, he didn't even know what the man had said and was jumping to conclusions. Yet, despite his best efforts, the irritation lingered, a subtle burn that gnawed at him.

His gaze shifted to Amaya, who stood just a few feet from the man. He studied her expression, searching for any hint of amusement or familiarity between them. But her face remained as composed and unreadable as ever, cool and detached. A flicker of relief passed through him. At least this man hadn’t managed to crack through her icy exterior any more than he himself ever could, he supposed.

Reminding himself that he needed to focus on his ever growing task list, his mind drifted to the Priestess, Tia. Eris had told him that she somehow knew about Willis' blood. But how? The question nagged at him. Tia seemed to know more than she was letting on. He needed to ask her directly, but he had not seen her among the crowd earlier. He guessed she was likely still at the temple, tending to her duties. Tia didn’t strike him as the social type, especially with the scar around her neck that she did her best to hide. Still, after a week of isolation, he half-expected she might want some company. But if she wasn’t here, then heading to the temple seemed like the most logical step.

He hesitated for a moment, aware that he should tell Amaya where he was going. Though he often appreciated her company, the thought of her wanting to accompany him right now only added to his tension. He needed to be alone right now—to process everything that had happened. He intended to tell her about the blight discovery and Nyla, but later—when they could be alone. When he knew what to say and how to say it. For now, he’d have to keep the conversation short and sweet.

Flynn approached Amaya quietly, placing a hand gently on the small of her back to draw her attention as he moved to her side. And perhaps—unconsciously—he was subtly marking his familiarity with her, too.

She turned to him, and he offered a brief, apologetic smile before addressing the group. “Apologies for the interruption.” he said politely, as he overheard a woman offering to heal the man on the ground. Flynn’s eyes swept over the faces gathered around, bowing his head slightly in apology before he met Amaya’s gaze again.

“I’m heading to the Aelios temple to speak with the Priestess about something,” he said in a low voice meant only for her. “But I’ll be back for you in a little bit.” His tone was calm, offering her a moment of reassurance before he straightened and addressed the group again.

"I’m sorry I can’t stay longer," Flynn said, his gaze briefly meeting the dark-haired man. "But rest assured, we have skilled healers here who can see to you." His eyes swept over the rest of the group, offering a warm, apologetic smile again before he turned to leave. As he did, Flynn caught a glimpse of Gadez—Halcyon—slipping out of the tavern just as left the group. Flynn's pace slowed slightly, an unsettling tension creeping into his thoughts as he wondered if it was still safe to leave Amaya in his presence. Technically, Halcyon hadn’t actually done anything to indicate that he was violent, but… Flynn shook off the thought, reminding himself that the entire area was surrounded by guards who were trained to keep an eye on the Princess. Not only that, but he had witnessed Amaya’s magical strength with his own eyes. She could certainly handle herself, if she had to.

Rounding another corner that led toward the northern side of town, Flynn began heading towards the temple. The streets were relatively quiet, only the occasional guard patrolling in the distance, and Flynn found the stillness soothing in contrast to the chaos inside his head. It seemed most of the town was still gathered in or around the tavern, the warmth and camaraderie pulling them in after the week-long blizzard.

Flynn's mind churned as he made his way through the icy roads, eventually settling on Halcyon—the strange man with that unsettling grin and mischievous blue eyes. He couldn't quite get a read on him. Ally? Enemy? Maybe both, whenever it suited him. Something about him felt dangerous but useful—Flynn would have to ask Orion to dig into the man’s background.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling Halcyon always left him with, Flynn approached the temple, where the warm steam from the hot springs behind it rose in the distance under the pale light of the full moon. His thoughts drifted to his last conversation with Tia—the way he had guided her hands to his body, showing her exactly where to strike if his time ever came. If he were to ever speak to Aelios again, he’d pray that the memory would stick with Tia too, so that she could make his death a swift one.

He had been so hopeless then, certain he’d face an early end. But now, he had a glimmer of hope. He had information that could lead them to a cure, or at the very least, stop more deaths. Somehow, Tia had known where to look before anyone else.

Entering the temple, Flynn was greeted by the warmth of the eternal flame inside. His boots creaked against the wooden floor, snow melting off in little puddles as he made his way toward the flame. He glanced around the temple, expecting to see Tia tending to the flame, but the place was eerily quiet.

When he reached the brazier in the middle of the room, Flynn stood there for a moment, letting the heat chase the lingering cold from his bones. He glanced down the nearest corridor that led to the private rooms. Was she really still asleep? Enough time had passed that it must be well into the afternoon by now, yet she hadn’t stirred? Then again, he had no doubt people's sleeping schedules had been thrown off with the absence of the sun. Still, Flynn frowned. The idea of waking her seemed wrong, yet waiting for her felt just as awkward. It wasn’t often that royalty sat waiting for anyone, and it usually made people uncomfortable when he loitered for too long as they felt the need to cater to his every need.

With a sigh, Flynn found a seat on one of the pews near the eternal flame. For now, he’d wait. At least it was quiet here, the kind of quiet that allowed him to organize his thoughts. He stared into the fire, his mind drifting to the upcoming journey to the blight lands that he'd need to plan out. There were so many decisions to make—who to bring, what to prepare.

Flynn rubbed a hand over his face, trying to push the weight of it all aside for just a moment. He had to focus. How he felt didn’t matter. When had it ever?

---

_{Interactions: Vellion @Dark Light, Amaya @c3p-0h
Mentions: Halcyon @Dezuel, Aurora @BlackRoseSiren, Valthyr @Fetzen, Elara @Qia}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Hot Springs

Kira’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she caught Orion’s gaze, mirroring her thoughts on Ayel’s rather hasty exit. The corner of her lips curled into a small smirk. She didn’t know who the mystery woman was that the nobleman had fled from, but Kira would certainly need to seek her out and thank her for her service.

Keeping her eyes on Orion, she shook her head and opened her mouth to respond, ready to admit that she had no idea who the woman was. But before she could speak, Sya slithered closer and began explaining who the Aurelian man had been. Kira listened quietly from her seated position, pulling her knees up and covering her chest, just barely visible beneath the steaming water.

She made sure to remember the details Sya provided, filing the information away within her mind for safe keeping. Ayel of House Raunefeldt. A Marquess. The Prince’s supposed friend. Kira frowned slightly, somewhat surprised that the Prince would associate with a man as haughty as Ayel. It wasn’t surprising that nobility flocked together, but it was hard to imagine the Prince, with his more humble demeanor, associating closely with someone so insufferable. The thought gave her pause—perhaps there were sides to Flynn she hadn’t yet observed. Her eyes shifted to Orion. Was he hiding a similar side of himself too? He didn’t seem to be close to Ayel, despite his close connection to the Prince. That, too, was interesting.

“Kira.” she introduced herself quietly to Sya, her eyes moving to the bottle of wine offered. She hesitated for a moment before deciding that after everything that had transpired, she could certainly use a drink. She tipped the bottle back, savoring the sweet taste, the warmth settling into her chest. Although human food no longer brought her comfort, at least there was still this.

Silently, she extended the bottle towards Orion as he settled beside her, dipping his feet into the warm water. The quiet between them was companionable, understandings communicated in only glances and feelings. Strangely, it was the most comfortable Kira had felt in another person's presence in… she couldn’t remember how long.

Still, the aura of Sya’s emotions lingered in the air. With her practiced skill in psychic magic, Kira was always aware of people’s emotions—more so than most. Sya’s emotions were spreading through the air like ripples across still water. Now, as her magic subtly reached out, she felt the pulse of Sya’s inner turmoil. It wasn’t intentional, more of a natural reflex she couldn’t quite turn off anymore, but it was uncomfortable to sit in. She caught herself tensing beneath the water, her fingers holding her knees closer to her chest as she considered retreating from the pressure of it. But Orion’s presence, steady and calm, balanced out the atmosphere, grounding her and easing the tension. Without him, she would have excused herself much earlier, escaping the feelings she didn’t know how to deal with. Isolating again, despite the way it only brought her sorrow.

As Orion took the wine bottle from her hand, Kira's gaze lingered on him for a moment, her thoughts shifting away from Sya’s emotional weight. A playful spark lit in her amber eyes, her usual guarded demeanor easing just a fraction.

“You sure the Prince is going to be okay without you watching over him 24/7?” she asked, her tone teasing. She wasn’t just poking fun, however, she was gently prying for more information about the inner workings of their relationship. The Prince had always seemed to hold a unique aura of his own, an enigmatic blend of authority and restraint, but it was clear that Orion played an integral part in the Prince’s life, more than just as an advisor.

---

_{Interactions: Orion @Qia, Sya @PrinceAlexus}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Inside Eye of the Beholder

Eris watched as Daphne appeared, her uniquely violet eyes set confidently on Nathaniel. The tall brunette woman had been the same person who stopped her earlier to talk about Sya. Eris furrowed her brow, wondering why Daphne was inserting herself, and even more curiously, why she had asked Nathaniel for a dance. Did they know each other? Eris's gaze flickered toward Nathaniel, searching for any sign of familiarity or warmth, but his expression revealed little.

When he leaned in to whisper his apology, Eris smiled softly and nodded, understanding the unspoken rules of noble decorum. A lady's request for a dance could not be easily refused, and Nathaniel was only being polite. Still, a small pang of something stirred inside her. Maybe she should have asked him for another dance before Daphne had stepped in. She pushed the feeling down quickly, shaking off the flicker of jealousy. This wasn’t the time for such things.

As Nathaniel rose and joined Daphne on the dance floor, Eris averted her gaze and pulled her coat around her shoulders. She stared into her mug of mead, feeling the weight of the drink in her hands. She toyed with the idea of leaving—returning to her notes, preparing for the upcoming journey to the Blight Lands. That was where her focus should be, not here, not watching Nathaniel dance with another woman.

She bit her lower lip anxiously, battling her instinct to leave, her eyes eventually wandering back to the pair. Daphne moved with ease despite her leather armor, her confidence evident in every step, and Eris felt a sting of envy. Daphne had no hesitation in asking for what she wanted, no second thoughts, while Eris had hesitated.

She sighed softly, her mind drifting back to the conversation about Sya. The guilt crept in as she took another sip of mead, feeling the alcohol warming her cheeks. She scanned the crowd, hoping to catch sight of her friend, but Sya was still nowhere to be found. Even though Sya’s transformation unsettled her, it didn’t excuse how she had reacted. She should have kept her composure. Her brother would have never let such emotions slip. She grimaced at the thought, taking another large gulp of her drink.

Returning her focus to Nathaniel and Daphne, Eris watched as he spun Daphne with the same practiced grace and charm he had shown to her earlier. She couldn't help but question the butterflies she’d felt during their dance—was she really so touch-starved that she had feigned some kind of spark between them? Perhaps she had been foolish and naive to think anything of it. No doubt Nathaniel had been trained in the art of charm, raised to be effortlessly charismatic. It wasn’t personal, was it? Yet, as she studied his face now, something told her that it wasn’t quite the same. To her, he didn’t look as comfortable as he had when they had danced. He didn’t wear the same ease or warmth that she had seen when they had been so close.

But feelings were impractical, especially in a time like this. In fact, why did she even care? Eris raised her tankard again, taking a long drink to drown the thoughts swirling in her mind. There were more important things to focus on—things that mattered far more than the butterflies still lingering in her chest.

Eris glanced down at the notes neatly stacked on the table, her mind still half-distracted by the dance happening across the room. With a small sigh, she finished off the rest of her drink and gently set the mug down on the table. One by one, she gathered her notes and folded the papers with careful precision before sliding them into the inner pocket of her coat. Somehow, the weight of them felt heavier now, like a reminder of the responsibilities she had been avoiding during this fleeting moment of social distraction.

Pulling the coat tighter around herself, she stood up from the booth, glancing briefly toward Nathaniel and Daphne still entwined in their dance. The soft music carried on, but Eris no longer felt part of it. Duty called. It was time to go.

---

_{Interactions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Nathaniel @Echotech71}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Behind the Eye of the Beholder

Cautiously, Flynn scanned the area outside, his eyes darting to the shadows beneath the inn’s roof and the thick forest behind the tavern. The back of the tavern was still, barely touched by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the trees. The distant murmur of the tavern patrons inside could be heard, but otherwise it was quiet, with no sign of anyone nearby. The absence of torchlight made it feel as if they were hidden from the world. Untouched snow drifts surrounded the area, creating a makeshift barrier between them and the rest of town. They were alone, for now.

His gaze shifted to Nyla, his chest tight, words trapped in his throat. Silence hung heavily in the air between them as they stared at one another. The pain in their expressions mirrored one another, a shared grief they both recognized but couldn’t address.

After a moment, without thinking, Flynn stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her against his chest with a sudden, desperate need. For a brief moment, Nyla froze, startled, but then she melted into him, pressing her face into the warmth of his chest, her arms slipping around his back. His heartbeat thrummed against her ear.

His scent, the solidness of his body against hers, the rise and fall of his breath—it all felt so familiar, and for just a moment, she let herself linger there. She closed her eyes, listening to the beat of his heart, but the longer she listened, the more she realized that the comfort it once brought her was gone.

This spot she once claimed didn’t belong to her anymore. His heart, the one she had once thought she could call her own, was no longer hers. Truly, it had never been. She had known that from the start, and had even told him so. Yet, despite all her efforts to guard herself, she had gone against her own better judgment, letting herself hope for something that was never meant to be. And now, standing here in his arms, she realized it had always been foolish. A naive desire.

Flynn rested his chin atop her head, holding her as she nestled closer to his chest. He closed his eyes, a deep ache settling in his heart as he allowed himself to savor the feeling of her in his arms once again—but only for a moment.

His jaw clenched and pain etched into his features, Flynn finally forced himself to pull away. His arms slipped from around her, and he took a step back, creating distance between them that he knew he needed to.

Nyla opened her eyes, the cold rushing back to fill the void where his warmth had been. She looked up at him, unsure, her breath uneven. His frown deepened as he met her gaze, regret and confusion battling inside him. After a moment of silence, he finally broke it, his voice low. "Why are you here, Nyla?"

Nyla’s gaze dropped to the snow, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Flynn. I know I shouldn’t be...” Her quiet voice wavered, as if she were unsure whether or not to admit the truth. She stared down at her boots covered in snow, the chill beginning to seep into her bones again. She knew what she should say, but the words seemed too heavy to speak.

“I didn’t have any other choice.” she whispered, her voice barely carrying in the stillness. When she finally looked up, Flynn’s expression was filled with confusion, his brow furrowed as he searched her face for answers.

She took a deep breath, as though preparing herself, and in that moment, the illusion she had been holding onto began to fade. Sparkles of golden dust fluttered around her, shimmering in the moonlight. Flynn blinked, watching in awe as her true form emerged—the black horns crowning her head, the sharp, elven-like ears, her skin glowing faintly with a golden, glittering hue beneath the surface. Monarch butterfly wings unfolded on her back, a vivid burst of orange and black, fluttering ever so gently.

Flynn’s face registered shock, confusion—but not fear. He didn’t recoil from her, as she had half-expected. “What happened?” he asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

She sighed, recalling her failings. “I... I tried to find my family after you left,” she confessed, her voice tinged with regret. “The nomads… I thought I could find a place with them again, but...” She shook her head as if trying to shake off the memory. “Well, this was the result.”

Nyla’s chest tightened as she stared at him. She could feel the flicker of the creature inside her stir, an ancient hunger urging her to call out his soul. Flynn—his ever-caring, patient, kind, strong and yet gentle soul—one of the best she had ever known. For a moment, her instincts clawed at her, the temptation whispering inside her mind. His soul probably tasted so sweet.

But she shoved the feeling down, hard. She refused to feed that hunger, refusing to even entertain the thought. She wouldn’t feed on him, not even consider it. Not him. Never him.

Flynn’s heart sank as he looked at Nyla’s new form. Guilt gnawed at him, clawing its way into his chest as if this was all somehow his fault. He couldn’t help but trace the lines of cause and effect, connecting the events that had shattered their lives. The clergy—their twisted prophecies and manipulations—had torn everything apart. They had stolen his life, Amaya’s life, and Nyla’s too. A terrible, cruel domino effect.

Anger simmered beneath the surface, a quiet but burning rage aimed at the clergy who had taken so much from them. Yet, as his gaze settled on Nyla, the anger was smothered by the ache he felt for her. All he wanted to do was take her pain away, to undo the damage that had been done. But there was no undoing it. Only the harsh reality of what they both now faced.

Flynn exhaled a long, weary sigh. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine…” He paused, struggling to find the right words. “You’ll be safe here, you don’t have to worry. I’ll make sure of it.”

He saw a flicker of relief in her eyes, but Flynn hesitated, the next words lodged in his throat like a stone. He tried to say it, to tell her that they could no longer be what they once were, but the words tangled, slipping through his grasp.

“But, I… We…” His voice faltered, stumbling over the words. “We can’t—”

They stood there in the silence, their eyes locking, the unspoken truth settling between them. He didn’t have to finish, they both knew. The message was clear, as painful as it was. The life they once shared, the bond they once had—it was dead. They walked different paths now.

He felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he fumbled for the words he couldn’t say. But Nyla understood. Her expression softened, a quiet understanding as she simply nodded. She had always known, deep down, that this moment would come. But knowing didn’t make it any easier.

“I know.” she whispered, a faint empathetic smile on her lips. “We both knew a long time ago, didn’t we?”

Flynn frowned, hating that she had been right all along. He wished he could say more, but there were no words that could make this right. So instead, he just stood there, fighting off the urge to take her in his arms and disappear into the woods. To kiss her like she was the only thing that mattered. To damn the world and live their lives as freely as they could before it all ended.

Unfortunately, he had always been a man driven by duty and responsibility.

Clearing his throat, Flynn took another step back from Nyla, widening the physical distance between them as if afraid to trust himself any closer. The space between them felt like a chasm, growing wider with each second. "There are homes... ones that have been built. You can take whichever empty one you like." he said, his voice quiet but steady. His eyes flicked toward the door that led back into the warmth of the tavern, needing something else to focus on.

"And,” he hesitated, the words feeling strange on his tongue now that they were meant for someone so close to him. “Well, there's a process we follow. Each blight-born undergoes an interview..." He looked at her again, trying to gauge her reaction. “My advisor and I will assign you a place in town to help out.”

As he spoke, he could feel the shift happening inside himself. Compartmentalizing—separating his personal feelings from his duties. It felt less like a choice and more like a survival instinct. He felt himself slipping into his Princely role, distancing himself from her, as if to shield himself from the ache that threatened to tear him apart. It was like watching it happen from outside his own body, something he had to do just to continue on.

Nyla nodded quietly, her face not betraying much. She could feel the shift too, the emotional distance widening between them. She tried to mirror it, pulling back, withdrawing into herself. A few more flickers of glowing fairy dust shimmered around her as her form gradually changed. Her human form returned, the one she preferred, the one she felt safer in—unseen, unnoticed by strangers who might pity her for what she had become.

The silence between them grew heavy, awkward. Flynn glanced at the tavern door, then down the snow-covered path that wound around to the front of the building. He didn’t want to return through the tavern, didn’t want to face the curious eyes inside after everything that had just happened.

“I… I’ll see you soon. For the interview.” he said quietly, both knowing full well that they couldn’t leave together—it would only raise questions.

He turned without waiting for a response, pushing his way through the snow, the crunch of his boots muffled in the thick white drifts. His mind raced as he pushed through the snow that reached up to his knees, not daring to look back.

Nyla stood there for a long moment, watching him disappear around the corner. It felt like something had been torn out of her, leaving a gaping wound. She understood why, but that didn’t make it any easier. With a sigh, she shook off the feeling as best she could and re-entered the tavern. She traced their steps back to the common room, the warmth and noise greeting her, though it did little to soothe the ache inside. She had never been one to dull her problems with alcohol, but today was different. She needed something to dull all this pain, so she headed straight for the bar.

Flynn rounded the corner of the tavern, his steps heavy as he trudged through the thick snow, feeling it cling to his pants and boots, the cold seeping through to his skin. He could still feel the faint warmth of Nyla’s presence, the echo of their conversation ringing in his ears. He hadn’t wanted it to end like this, but it had to. It had to.

As he neared the front of the building, his heart sank at the sight waiting for him.

Amaya stood with a group of people gathered around a dark-haired man who seemed to be in distress. Their concerned murmurs filled the air, and the tension was palpable. Flynn’s stomach twisted, but not out of concern for the man on the ground. No, it was the sinking realization that he was going to have to talk to Amaya about Nyla, about everything.

His chest tightened as his pace slowed and he watched her, her face painted with worry for the stranger. Guilt creeped into the edges of his thoughts.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Hot Springs

As Orion stepped in front of her, Kira’s fiery orange eyes stayed locked on the nobleman, her glare searing as she continued to bare her fangs. Ayel’s face was flushed, red with both fury and embarrassment, his trembling body betraying his barely-contained rage. His eyes locked with hers, and Kira could see he was on the verge of exploding, his arrogance fueling whatever bravery he thought he had. For a moment, she considered striking first, ending it quicker than he could even raise a fist.

But then her gaze shifted to Orion, the wall of muscle now standing between her and the nobleman. His crimson eyes met hers, calm yet firm, silently urging her to back down. His posture was commanding, as if he intended to intercept any blow she might try to deliver.

Kira narrowed her eyes, the tension tightening in her muscles as her mind weighed the odds. She knew Orion was no pushover; he was trained, capable of handling himself, and put in a position close to the Prince for a reason. While she had the power to easily handle the sniveling Aurelian behind him, going through Orion would be a different fight altogether—a fight she wasn’t eager to start.

Kira’s lips twitched, pulling her fangs back ever so slightly as she reined in her desire to lash out. She could feel the heat of her anger simmering under her skin, her instincts screaming for her to rip into the nobleman’s throat anyway. Who would even miss him?

Without saying a word, Kira forcibly tucked her animalistic side deep within. It fought to keep itself on the surface, clawing at her insides, but she was stronger—for now. The fight wasn’t worth it.

Her eyes flicked back to the buffoon behind the wall of muscle for a moment. Clearly, he was completely unaware that Orion had likely saved his little miserable life. Luckily for him, Kira had respect for Orion—and she had no intentions on getting kicked out of this safe haven.

Watching Ayel begin to fumble around, Kira’s expression dripped with disdain. The nobleman was a spectacle of delusion, drenched and babbling to himself about Aelios as he ascended the stairs. Had he hit his head during the fall?

Unsurprisingly, the pampered fool couldn’t even walk without stumbling into a wooden post. Kira’s lip curled into a faint smirk, her eyes still narrowed. It was too bad he hadn’t hit the post hard enough to knock himself out.

Hearing Sya begin to sob again, Kira glanced at her and shifted uncomfortably, unused to such raw vulnerability. Thankfully, the snake woman began to gravitate to the Priestess for an embrace. Sya’s emotional unraveling was far too much for Kira to handle in an appropriate manner. At least Tia would have a soothing presence, something Kira knew she didn’t have.

Sympathy did manage to stir in her chest as Sya explained how she had been treated for being a blight-born, though. Kira knew all too well what it was like to be treated as less than human for simply existing as they were. Truthfully, however, she hadn’t protected Sya out of pure compassion. Her instinct had been to put that insufferable noble in his place. The entitled, arrogant way he had spoken and looked down upon Sya had opened old wounds within Kira, igniting anger in whatever was left of her soul. Still, the outcome had been good for Sya, and that was something, at least.

Trying to distance herself from Sya’s emotions, Kira’s eyes found Ayel again, her eyes following him as he darted behind a tree. Confusion settled on her face as he attempted to hide, yet stood out like a sore thumb. How daft could one person be? It would have been a mercy to put him out of his misery. It almost seemed cruel to continue letting him fail through life like this. Obviously, the only thing he had going for him was his family name. It was sad, really.

“Pathetic.” Kira muttered to herself, shaking her head as she followed Ayel’s gaze to see what it was that he was hiding from. Another blight born had appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes set on Tia. Kira glanced at the Priestess, who seemed to recognize the blonde woman too.

Annoyingly, the hot springs were becoming far too active for Kira’s liking. The peace she had been seeking was utterly shattered.

Letting out a quiet, frustrated breath, she willed herself to calm down. No matter how much she would have liked to put Ayel out of his misery, it wasn’t the time or the place. She had to be on her best behavior here. For now, she would do as Orion asked.

Shifting her gaze to him, Kira raised a curious brow, taken off guard by the faint hint of smile lingering on his lips. She had rarely seen him display much of any emotion, let alone fighting back a smile or a laugh. Somehow, the sight of it was endearing, softening the serious edge he usually carried himself with. It felt like a rare peek behind the walls he hid himself behind, and it was oddly disarming.

At Orion’s remark, Kira smirked, her gaze flicking back to Ayel who still pitifully attempted to hide behind the thin tree. “You’re right. Too boring.” she agreed, her voice carrying a quiet but playful edge now.

Behind Orion, Kira noticed the Priestess beginning to ascend the stairs to approach the blonde woman. Briefly, she glanced at Sya, wondering if her mental breakdown had finally subsided and if she would—hopefully—leave Kira in peace here. Or at least share the alcohol.

Taking one final look at Ayel, she watched him peek around the tree trunk and narrowed her eyes again. “May the next puddle drown him.” She whispered with cold disdain, only partially joking as she returned her attention to Orion.

She could feel the knot of frustration in her chest loosen, almost as if Orion’s dry humor had helped to ease the tension that had built there. Now the only person still inside the hotspring, Kira let out a slow breath and sank down until the warm water reached her shoulders, her fiery eyes still fixated on Orion.

For the past two months, she had always known who he was. It was hard not to, given his closeness to the Prince. People spoke of him, fascinated by his stand-offish aura. Humans were scared of him, she could tell. And what better protector for the Prince than to have someone people were scared of without having to lift a finger?

Surprisingly, he had a calming presence she hadn’t expected, and humor she hadn’t realized he was capable of. From the outside perspective he had only been stoic, emotionless, quiet and unreachable. Then again, was she much different?

“By the way,” she said casually from her seated position in the steaming water. “I’m Kira.”

---

_{Interactions: Orion @Qia
Mentions: Ranni @Queen Arya, Sya @PrinceAlexus, Ayel @Dezuel, Tia @c3p-0h}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Eye of the Beholder | Collaboration with @Dezuel

Flynn forced a warm smile as Eris gathered up her notes, her enthusiasm still palpable as she turned to leave. She paused at the door and gave him an encouraging smile. He gave her a reassuring nod, but once the door closed behind her, the silence in the room felt heavy. He slumped into his chair, letting out a long, exhausted breath.

The weight of everything was crashing down on him—the discovery, the possibility that they could track the blight, the hope that maybe, just maybe, he and Amaya weren’t completely doomed to the prophecy’s fate. It was a flicker of light in what had seemed like a dark dead end.

But even as that hope flickered, his mind kept drifting back, irresistibly, to Nyla. She was here.

His heart ached with the thought, a hollow pain that echoed in his chest. The music from the common room grew louder, laughter and voices blending together in celebration, but all he could focus on was the woman who had haunted his dreams for the last two months. He had never expected to see her again, least of all here, in Dawnhaven.

Why now? Why her? And what was he supposed to do?

He knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t just sit here. He was bound to Amaya, by oath and duty, but Nyla’s presence brought everything to the surface again. He had to find out why she was here. He had to talk to her. Whatever turmoil her presence was stirring, he couldn’t ignore it. He needed answers.

With a deep breath, Flynn pushed himself out of the chair, finding the willpower to rise despite the exhaustion settling deep into his bones. His legs felt unsteady as he crossed the room, but his determination kept him moving. As he approached the front of the tavern, the music slowly began to fade and he expected that the bard would begin playing another song soon enough. He was glad someone had taken it upon themselves to entertain the masses and lift their spirits.

As Flynn stepped back into the common room, his eyes immediately scanned the crowd, searching for her. His heart hammered in his chest, and within moments, he found her—exactly where she had been before. Nyla.

She looked up, and their eyes met across the room.

Just as he took a step in her direction, a voice rang out, taking advantage of the break in song, demanding the room's attention.

"Ladies, gentlemen, children of any ages, the first act of the puppetry show shall begin shortly within the Eye of the Beholder!”

Flynn paused, his gaze catching the blonde man as he made a theatrical announcement for a puppet show—the same unsettling figure who had blocked his and Amaya's path home before the blizzard, and the same he had seen with Nyla earlier. Flynn raised a brow, eyeing the man curiously. He had never gotten the man's name, but he gave off the same eerie vibe as before, his presence prickling the edges of Flynn’s instincts. He had never been against bards, but something about this man set him on edge.

Flynn was about to brush it off, refocusing on Nyla, but the beginning of the tale grabbed his attention, pulling him into a story about a Prince with an eerily similar name to his father - King Auric. Reluctantly, Flynn shifted his attention to the small stage, his brow furrowing as the story unfolded.

As the story went on, Flynn crossed his arms over his chest as a growing discomfort settled in. This was no ordinary story. The man was telling a thinly veiled, fictionalized version of Flynn’s life—and his father’s.

The details, at first, seemed harmless—another story about royalty, kingdoms, and secrets. But as the tale unfolded, Flynn couldn’t help but notice the similarities. And then it became personal—too personal. Gadez’s words danced dangerously close to his own life, and even Amaya’s.

The mention of the fictional Prince—the King—with a secret child caused annoyance to rise in his chest. Was this stranger implying that his father, King Auric Astaros, had sired a child out of wedlock? Flynn’s jaw tightened. How dare this man spin such tales about his family? If his father had been here, he would have had this man reprimanded for such slander. But Flynn was not his father—he had to handle things more carefully.

As Gadez’s voice rang out, calling him on stage, Flynn felt every pair of eyes in the tavern suddenly turn toward him. He tried to keep his expression calm, relaxing his face as best he could. The children began cheering for him to join the act, their innocent excitement impossible to ignore. At first, Flynn shook his head, raising his arms in protest. He had no desire to be a part of this absurd charade.

But soon enough, even the adults—emboldened by mead and music—began joining in, encouraging him with playful cheers. The energy in the room shifted, and Flynn realized he couldn’t just walk away.

Feeling the weight of their expectations, he sighed heavily. He couldn’t let them down, not when morale was already so fragile in these dark times. He was their leader, and sometimes that meant doing things he wasn’t comfortable with. Reluctantly, he weaved through the crowd, making his way to the stage.

As he approached Gadez, the tension in his chest grew. Standing beside the puppeteer, Flynn felt like a child again—paraded around by his mother for show, expected to perform for the sake of appearances. His neutral expression belied the nerves swirling inside him, but he refused to let them show.

Meeting Gadez’s pale blue eyes, Flynn leaned slightly toward him, his voice low but controlled. "What exactly is this about?" Flynn asked, keeping his tone even. What game was this man trying to play?

"That's the spirit, that's our brave prince, not dreading any challenge!" Gadez spoke out to the crowd as Flynn made his way up.

The blue-eyed man mused and then softly replied to Flynn as he had leaned in. "A tale of the past and possible futures, Red Star. Let's see how you can handle the pebbles along the way…" He smiled and backed away in a butler-like manner, before reaching up his hand.

"So tell us, oh brave Prince Ruddy! Are humans and those who have taken the extra step to become something more all equal in your kingdom? For what else could this place be than just that? It is the people which makes a place a home, and it is people which makes a king a king. Are you prepared to defend your small kingdom against any seeking to cause it harm?" The blue-eyed monk turned jester asked aloud, as he began to wander across the stage back and forth.

As Gadez paced, Flynn watched him carefully, listening to the ongoing monologue. Though the man had posed several questions, it became clear that he wasn’t expecting Flynn to answer—he swiftly shifted from one point to the next with barely a breath in between. A subtle prickle of irritation rose when Gadez referred to Dawnhaven as Flynn’s “kingdom." That was a claim he didn’t dare make. The Lunaris King would never stand for it for such an insinuation. Dawnhaven wasn’t Flynn’s kingdom; it was a project, a mission to bring people together. But that didn’t make him a King.

Gadez’s odd references—“Red Star”, “Prince Ruddy”—left Flynn baffled, but he did his best to keep his expression neutral. He wasn’t about to let a stranger visibly rattle him in front of half the town. Despite this man’s manic state, the crowd seemed to eat up every word he uttered, their eyes bright with enthusiasm. Flynn’s mind whirled as he tried to make sense of what was happening, and briefly, he wondered where Orion was should he need to apprehend this unnerving individual.

"Let me tell you, Prince Ruddy. The cure you seek for the ones whose changed their form is already here! Within all of us. It is called acceptance. For there is no other cure for death, but accepting that all things one day will go down that path. But do not worry children, death isn't the end, it is just another transition, another door we all must open. Perhaps all you've ever wished for lies behind that door? We ought not to hurry towards it however, just letting it greet us like an old friend when the time finally comes.”

Amidst the theatrics, there was one thing Flynn found himself agreeing with: the value of acceptance. Pride welled up in him as he reflected on what Dawnhaven had become—a place he had built to foster equality, where humans and blight-born, Lunarians and Aurelians, could coexist safely.

Then, a strange thought slipped into his mind, almost like a whisper. Amaya is beautiful. the thought seemed to pulse. The memory of her striking eyes, a sharp contrast to her dark hair, flashed in his mind as he recalled whispering in her ear, trying to soothe her.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar thought, he agreed with it, but it felt strange and intrusive. Why now? In the middle of all this chaos, why was he suddenly thinking of her beauty? And why did it feel as if the thought wasn’t entirely his own? If he were not so overwhelmed at the time, he might have recognized it for what it was—Psychic magic being forced upon him—but for now, he brushed the distraction aside, believing it might’ve been his own guilty conscience.

“And to have people close to you is an important thing! Especially for a prince! But what Prince can go at it alone? He needs a Princess! And thankfully we have that here! No, no. Not you two. You are special guest-princesses." Gadez motioned to the two children by the stage. “And an honorary prince." He pointed at the boy.

"But we need someone a bit older! Someone like- Ah! There we have her!" Gadez proclaimed and pointed straight at Nyla. "Come up, come up, upon the stage of history and destiny!" The blue eyed man began to clap his hands to try to get the crowd to urge Nyla to get up on it.

"Come up here, princess Maise. Come and join your prince of dreams, the Red Star himself." He said in an enthusiastic voice, trying to get a rise out of the crowd.

When Gadez motioned to Nyla, Flynn’s heart sped up as he locked eyes with her from across the room. He saw the hesitation on her face, the light flush rising on her cheeks as the crowd urged her to come forward.

Nyla’s pulse quickened as Gadez pointed straight at her, the word “Princess” hanging in the air like a bad joke. Her? Up there, on stage with Flynn? The sudden attention made her feel like the walls of the tavern were closing in. She quickly glanced around the room, half-expecting to see the real Princess glaring at her from the corner, offended. Surely, if she was here, it would be an insult to not allow her on stage instead. But no matter how hard she looked, there was no sign of her.

The room around her grew louder as the crowd began clapping and cheering. Every eye seemed to fall on her, urging her to step up. Her face felt flushed, warmth creeping up from her neck to her cheeks as she glanced at Flynn—already roped into this strange show—and then back at Gadez. She was no stranger to performing in front of an audience, but this was a far cry from the controlled elegance she usually commanded on stage.

Flynn glanced back at Gadez, his eyes narrowed slightly. What exactly was this man playing at? What did he know? How did he know? Why had he dragged Nyla into this spectacle, out of all people? Was this all just a coincidence? If so, then surely the Goddess was toying with him.

Swallowing her nerves, Nyla hesitated for a long moment. The pressure from the crowd built with each passing second, and, reluctantly, she gave in. Taking a deep breath, she began to make her way through the crowd, her stomach in knots. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she approached the front of the room, where Flynn and Gadez waited. When she finally reached the stage, she threw a brief glance at Flynn, feeling more out of place than ever. What in the world was happening?

"Now all here are no doubt curious, Prince Ruddy! Do you truly love the Princess?" Gadez asked, his hand outstretched towards Nyla, his palm facing upwards.

Flynn took a breath, keeping his cool exterior despite the growing tension. His patience with the man was wearing thin with every passing second.

"I believe you have me confused, sir. I'm no thespian..." He flashed a playful smile at the crowd, slipping into his charming Princely self as best as he could despite everything. “My rigid stance up here speaks for itself, I’m sure.” The crowd chuckled, agreeing with him as he attempted to lighten the mood. He did not want to engage with whatever narrative Gadez was trying to write. “I think someone else would be far more fitting for the role of Prince Ruddy.” He glanced around, hoping to spot someone willing to step up and take his place. “We want to give the people a good show, don’t we?”

Gadez laughed and held out both his arms. "As we can see, his highness is certainly humble and truthful. But this is why you, your highness, is the best possible choice to act the role of this deceived prince. For Prince Ruddy is someone who has been carefully tended to like a rose in the garden, surrounded by other roses, to just one day be plucked and tossed on what some may regard as a coffin. A sacrifice. A fallen star. Whose entire life has been shaped by the one behind the state of this land of fairy tales. However dear people, this story isn't over just yet! For what do all who are ill desire? To be healthy. What do all bearing chains crave? To be free. There is more than one path along the labyrinth! The best show is the one which has a mix of truths and lies, the important part is being able to discern which is what, your highness." Gadez bowed his form to the crowd and then moved over to Nyla, giving Flynn a look which was clearly sly and with a slight upturn at his lips.

"This princess is most fair, however, does she not deserve your love, Prince Ruddy? Then perhaps another ought to give her the respect she deserves..." Gadez raised his hand slightly to try to cup her chin and leaned closer to Nyla, before whispering to her. "Play well and you may get what you wish for..." Before momentarily letting go, to see what Flynn would decide to do.

Nyla instinctively recoiled from Gadez’s hand, pulling her face away from his touch. Her skin crawled at the unwelcome contact, and for a moment, she feared she might lose the illusion she was upholding to appear human. The whisper he left in her ear only unsettled her further, but she bit back any retort, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she remained silent, standing tensely on the stage.

Her eyes darted to Flynn for some kind of reassurance, confusion evident in her expression. For a fleeting moment, their gazes met. To the untrained eye, he seemed composed, maintaining his outward calm and nonchalant attitude. But Nyla knew better. She could see the flicker of irritation in the subtle tightening of his jaw, the steely focus behind his eyes. A quiet ember stoked behind those green eyes. It was the kind of restrained annoyance only someone who had spent extensive time around him could detect.

The crowd seemed oblivious to the silent exchange, caught up in Gadez’s theatrics. But as Nyla stood there, she couldn’t help but wonder how much longer either of them could keep playing along with this absurd performance.

"But a sir? I am not. But the role which I play, was once sired. A long time ago. By a then young man with a desire for freedom and love, but later forsaken it for power. Forgetting the reasons why he wanted it in the first place. A liberator and a tyrant are just one step apart from one-another. Hnn hnn..." Gadez said in a dark tone, he twisted his cloak slightly to make it seem more dramatic.

"I am Halcyon, the untamed. A sin made flesh, a child lost to time and fire. The path you've been set upon is the path which was originally meant for someone else. A sacrifice. For the golden death. Which would see the Nova Kingdom flourish and the kingdom of the night... vanish among the light. Alongside any creations which people believe are just fairy tales." He said softly, blowing some air out his mouth as he motioned with his hand, creating a small fire in his hand before snuffing it out.

"Red Star. I am the golden star. But you simply call me..." The blue eyed man smiled.

"Brother." He said with a fierce tone of voice, his ghostly blue eyes staring right into Flynn's, walking closer to the prince, then circling around him. His blonde hair swaying as he did, the cloak flickering to every movement.

Flynn furrowed his brows as he listened to each of Gadez’s—no, Halcyon’s—words. He’d realized he had heard this tale before, and suddenly things were beginning to make sense. Flynn had seen it plenty of times before, desperate people weaving stories of connection to gain favor or influence. This was far from the first time a crazed citizen had claimed to be part of his bloodline, some distant relative vying for a sliver of royal recognition.

His gaze hardened as he continued to listen to the man's dramatic tale, unimpressed. If this stranger was trying to get under his skin, he’d have to do better than that.

"Deny it if you wish. I wouldn't want to believe it either, but unfortunately it is true. Now the question remains, will you play the role granted to you since birth, or shall you shatter all the things that bind you like I did? If you cannot remain true to your own heart, then why do you even live? For whose purpose and what cause? Be true, or begone. For this third kingdom desires a leader with a heart, not a puppet!" He kicked one of the wooden puppets on the stage.

"Two hungry wolves, one covered in fire and the other in frost seek to devour each other and this kingdom in time. When that moment arises, what will you do, Red Star? Will you fight for your people and your own cause, or the life selected for you, by the malevolent force that has set all things into motion? If you will not have the heart. Perhaps she will." He said sternly.

"Choose wisely, for no greater ally do you have for your kingdom come, than I. All you need to do is listen to what I have to say. Of the future that otherwise will devour this world entirely. Would you choose the grim truth, or the sweet poisonous lie before you, little brother?" He said softly, his smile looking less threatening than before, but he still awaited Flynn's answer.

After a moment of silence, Flynn began to slow clap. The sound echoed in the tense air as he flashed an amused smile at Halcyon. Though he was far from entertained, it was easy enough to pretend. He had been doing it all his life.

“What a great storyteller you are.” Flynn said, his voice carrying just enough enthusiasm to be believable. “Really, a performance worthy of applause. Don’t you all agree?” he asked the crowd as he turned to them, his clapping growing louder and faster. Awkwardly, Nyla began to clap along with him, forcing a smile upon her face as well.

The crowd, caught up in the moment and confused, hesitated only for a moment before joining in. The onlookers began to clap more fervently, cheering in agreement. They loved the spectacle, even if they didn't fully understand it. “Great job, Halcyon!” one of the children yelled, a big smile on her innocent little face.

Flynn nodded, still smiling, and turned back to Halcyon. "Thank you. Truly, a grand performance." he said, meticulously keeping his tone light. "But I'm afraid I have matters that require my attention, so I can’t stay for the encore."

Gadez gave a smile in return to Flynn, it was genuine, he was highly amused and offered a deep bow in his typical butler fashion. "Ah such praise! But to tell a story is one thing, to listen and understand it is another! So for playing the role of Prince Ruddy, the inexperienced and naive prince, you played it flawlessly, your highness. An applaud for the golden child, Prince Flynn." His eyes and following smile was setting on Flynn even as he bowed before clapping his hands. His eyes momentarily closing as he did and his almost catlike smile decorated his face.

Turning to go, Flynn paused just as he caught Nyla’s eyes. His heart thudded in his chest, a sudden rush of awareness flooding him. He couldn’t just leave her here. Without a second thought, he extended his hand toward her.

Nyla hesitated briefly, but then she placed her hand in his. Without missing a beat, Flynn gently pulled her away from the stage. “Thank you again.” he said over his shoulder to Halcyon—Gadez, whoever he really was—before pulling Nyla through the crowd behind him, their exit masked by the applause and cheers. Nyla’s touch made him feel so electric, he hardly even noticed her absence of warmth.

"Pleasure is all mine, your... majesty. All for the haven of the new dawn." He replied in a playful tone to Flynn, hoping his words would find its way to the prince's core. The more reactions he would receive from the prince the better he would understand him. A thing which the gardener thought was of most importance, it would dictate the near future. Or should one say... which future?

"And a thank you to all of you who came to hear this little tale, perhaps in part two, Prince Ruddy will give the answers to the questions posed. Unless fear grips his young heart! Will he rise to the call and become the saviour of all or shall he become the villain of this tale? You are all invited to witness the second part of the play when it is time, it will have battles and much more thrill. It's simply to die for." Gadez bowed playfully to the crowd, his arms spread widely as he did.

'A story is not over til the epitaph, let us play again soon, child of evil. Let us see if you can overcome your nature like many of these blighted ones have... like I did. Break free of all strings which bind you and become the King you could be. There's more than one future, now which path will you take, oh prince of gilded promise...' He thought as he watched Flynn walk away with Nyla, before they vanished in the crowd. All things considered, it had gone quite smoothly. Albeit a tad shorter than he had expected, it had nonetheless yielded him valuable knowledge about what kind of man Flynn was.

Flynn’s heart pounded in his chest as they weaved through the onlookers, the noise fading into a low hum as they slipped toward the back of the tavern. His hand gripped hers with a strange mixture of urgency and tenderness as he guided them through the kitchen and made a beeline for the backdoor.

Once they reached the exit, Flynn loosened his grip on Nyla's hand, finally letting go as he pulled open the door. A gust of cold air swept in, but he barely registered it as he met her gaze, holding it for a moment longer than necessary. Without a word, he gave a slight nod, silently urging her to go ahead.

Nyla stepped out into the frigid night, her breath visible in the air as Flynn followed close behind, quietly shutting the door behind them. The muffled noise of the tavern faded into the background, leaving them in the stillness of the cold. Flynn’s mind raced, unsure of what his next step was. He only knew that he needed distance from that strange puppeteer—and he needed to speak with her. Alone.

The blonde monk slowly moved over to pick up the puppets he used in the show and moved over to give the children one each, showing them how to use them. "Take good care of these, and remember that the best story is the one you live in. The real story that matters." He smiled softly to them, patting them on the head before he excused himself from the crowd to go and dismantle the puppet-theater and carry the pieces out of the inn, perhaps the pieces could be used as a makeshift home later. He would live like some beggar or homeless person if that was the case. Not to mention a bit cold. But surely no matter what path he would choose to take, the goddesses, if they truly were listening, wouldn't allow him to end in such a manner. No. Only a golden death would do.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Hot Springs

Kira was momentarily startled as Sya entered the hot springs in a hurry, the innkeeper bringing a chaotic energy with her and disturbing the peace that Kira so desperately wanted. Kira’s eyes widened slightly as she watched her shed her clothing, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings. Sya’s top half appeared unchanged—still relatively human with that striking cyclops eye—but it was her lower half that left Kira in disbelief. The sleek, shimmering tail of a snake had replaced her legs. Had she walked into blight and changed once more? How?

From the opposite corner of the hot spring, Kira continued to watch as Sya slithered into the steaming water with a bottle of wine in hand, the ripples radiating outward. Kira’s heart sank as she witnessed Sya begin to sob, the rawness of her emotions palpable. The warm water enveloped her, but she felt cold and awkward inside, frozen by an overwhelming sense of discomfort.

Kira had never been good with other people's emotions, they often felt foreign and overwhelming, like a language she didn’t understand. Kira could hardly register her own feelings—how could she possibly comfort a stranger? Though she had known Sya since her arrival in Dawnhaven, they were far from friends.

As Sya sobbed, Kira awkwardly sank deeper into the water, hoping to remain unnoticed on the opposite side of the hot springs. She held her breath, wishing desperately that she could blend into the steam and shadows.

Thankfully, a sudden commotion from atop the stone steps caught her attention. Another figure quite literally stumbled in, pulling all attention to him before Sya had a chance to look around and discover Kira’s presence.

"Seize her!

A chill coursed through Kira as he blamed Sya for his fall, a heat rising within her chest sparked by anger. She narrowed her fiery orange eyes at the clumsy nobleman making a spectacle of himself. She could tell right away he was some sort of Aurelian, his mannerisms screaming privilege and entitlement. How dare he blame Sya for his own carelessness? It was infuriating, this ridiculous man with his fine clothes, assuming he could stride into this place and dictate as if he owned the world.

"Don't just stand there, help me out of this filthy hole! My boots are soaked!"

The way he barked orders at the Priestess and Orion only served to intensify her irritation. Kira had only seen this man for mere moments, yet she already despised everything this pompous fool stood for.

Slowly, Kira waded over to Sya’s side of the hot spring, her chest barely concealed beneath the steaming water. She locked her fiery orange eyes onto the soaking wet nobleman with a predatory intensity, as if she were the hunter and he the prey.

“I suggest you watch your mouth.” she said calmly, though her voice dripped with cold disdain. She positioned herself protectively between Sya and the nobleman, her stance exuding confidence, daring him to say another word. Perhaps she would get a free meal tonight.

“You’re unwelcome here. Leave.” she sneered, her razor sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight.

---

_{Interactions: Tia @c3p-0h, Orion @Qia, Sya @PrinceAlexus, Ayel @Dezuel}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

_{Location: Eye of the Beholder}

Nyla felt a wave of dizziness wash over her as she entered the warmth of the tavern, the familiar clamor of people, the scent of alcohol, and the hum of low voices filling the air. She quickly found a corner near a table lined with bottles of alcohol, folding her arms tightly against her chest, her breathing shallow. She focused on the wooden floor beneath her feet, her eyes tracing the worn lines in the planks as she fought to hold back the wave of panic threatening to consume her. Why did she do this to herself? What was she doing here? She knew what she’d find, who she’d find. Why had she come?

She was pulled from her spiraling thoughts by a voice—low and soft—speaking close by. She looked up, startled, to find a man watching her with an almost amused expression. His eyes, mirroring her own pale blue, seemed to look right through her. He spoke words that seemed more poetic than conversational, his gaze drifting towards the bottles of alcohol nearby. Nyla’s eyes followed his, and she bit back a retort, resisting the urge to snap at his assumption that she had come here to escape her reality with a drink. Normally, small talk came easy to her, but with her emotions so raw, she struggled to summon her usual charm.

She forced a faint, half-hearted smile in response to his advice, nodding politely. "It’s nice to meet you, Gadez." she said, though her tone was distracted, her mind still reeling. The mention of him being a "snake charmer" made her curious. Was he being serious, or was he referring to the snake woman she had seen outside? She had seen true snake charmers in the sands of Aurelia, but there were certainly no snakes this far north.

“My name is Nyla.” She introduced herself by first name only, keeping things simple. Long ago she had mastered the art of being a courtesan, and clients seldom sought conversation beyond discussing their own interests. Plus, she had no desire to be known on a deeper level.

Her eyes shifted to the wood planks balanced on his shoulder, and she couldn’t help but lift a brow at the mention of a puppet theater. The last time she’d seen one was in the capital, mostly for children, and there didn’t seem to be many of those in this frozen land. Who was he planning to entertain?

“You wear many hats, it seems—gardener, snake charmer, puppet master.” she remarked, attempting a lighter tone. Despite the strangeness of the interaction, Gadez’s presence was helping her feel slightly more at ease, a welcome distraction from the turmoil in her chest.

Just as she opened her mouth to ask him more, her words stalled in her throat. The door to the tavern opened again, and there he was—Flynn, standing just inside, his gaze sweeping the room. Nyla's breath hitched, her heart pounding even harder, her eyes locking onto his. Had he come for her? For a moment, everything else faded away. Her expression, despite her efforts to remain neutral, betrayed her longing. She wanted to go to him, to feel his arms around her again—but she couldn’t move.

Then, just as quickly as he had appeared, Flynn’s attention was stolen by the call of a brunette woman who addressed him by his first name. ‘They must be close.’, she thought bitterly, watching as the woman guided him away to the back of the tavern. And just like that, he was gone again.

She let out a shaky breath, her chest aching with the effort of holding herself together. Turning back to Gadez, she forced herself to focus on the present, on anything but the sight of Flynn. "What brought you to Dawnhaven?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, though it was clear that her mind was elsewhere. No matter what answer Gadez gave, Nyla doubted she'd fully hear it. Her head was spinning, and her heart was a tangled mess.

Nyla’s attention was instantly pulled to the rich sound of music filling the tavern. She turned, her eyes settling on a man, clearly blight-born, standing confidently among the crowd, a violin beneath his chin and a bow gliding gracefully across the strings. For a few breaths, she stood captivated, lost in the way the tavern lit up with his song—people clapping, cheering, their spirits lifted by his music.

Nyla couldn’t help but smile. This felt like home—music and laughter filling a space, the joy of people losing themselves in the moment. It tugged at her, a familiar urge bubbling up inside to dance, to sing alongside the notes, to be free and forget her worries if only for a moment. Her heart fluttered with the memory of all the nights she had spent doing just that.

As she continued to watch, something shifted in her gaze. Her smile faltered, replaced by a look of curiosity and then sharp focus as she studied the musician more closely. There was something about the way he played—the way his hands moved, the sway of his body, the passion in his music. She knew those movements, that style, and the energy that could set a room ablaze.

Her heart skipped a beat, this time not because of Flynn, but because of the sudden realization that this bard was no mere street performer. No, this was Aldrick Corveaux—famed bard of Aurelia. Her former friend, the man who once stood beside her on stage, their flirtatious banter as seamless as their duets. The one who had teased her with a smile that promised mischief and adventure.

Nyla’s eyes widened in disbelief. How could it be him? Her heart twisted as she took in the faint glow to his eyes, the red tinge of his skin, and the horns that sprouted from his head. He had transformed, much like she had. She had not seen him in over two years, yet here he was, a changed man, but still undeniably himself. She continued to watch in awe, lost in each perfectly executed note. He had changed, but at least he had not lost the magic in his fingers or the soul that poured out through his music.

Despite the ache in her chest from seeing Flynn just moments ago, Nyla felt a warmth spread through her. Aldrick had survived whatever fate had thrown at him, just as she had. And even in this distant, snowy corner of the world, his music managed to lift her spirits.

“Keep it PG, least until later, no Kissing booth ok. Maybe after the kids Done, got some odd idea's.”

Nyla’s attention was pulled to the tall brunette woman speaking to Gadez, her words ringing out with a confidence that couldn’t be ignored. She was clearly a Lunarian guard, judging by her attire and subtle accent. Nyla raised a brow at the comment, a mix of amusement and curiosity crossing her face as she wondered why on earth this guard would think that she and Gadez wouldn’t keep things "PG." People in Dawnhaven certainly had no reservations about speaking their minds—perhaps it was the Lunarian way of things.

She stole a glance at Gadez, gauging his reaction to the notion, half-expecting some witty or dramatic response given the way he’d been talking to her earlier. Feeling her spirit somewhat rejuvenated, Nyla smirked, "No kissing booth? That’s a shame. I thought Gadez was going to show me how he charms all those snakes he mentioned earlier." she said, giving Gadez a playful look.

The jab felt good, lightening her mood even further. It was like stepping back into the performer’s role, where every quip and laugh was a way to help people mask whatever turmoil churned below the surface. At least for now, the music and banter made her feel almost like herself again.

---

_{Interactions: Gadez @Dezuel, Daphne @PrinceAlexus
Mentions: Aldrick @SpicyMeatball}