The Muse

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Town Square

As Ayel tossed the torch onto the ground with casual disregard, Flynn’s eyes flicked up toward the night sky. Silently, he asked the Goddess, ‘Why?’ Of course Ayel would do such a thing. Flynn should have known to phrase his words better, this was his fault. Ayel had always taken things quite literally.

Thoroughly annoyed, Flynn bent to pick up the torch himself, ensuring it didn’t accidentally light anything on fire. He held it for a moment, suppressing the overwhelming urge to glare at Ayel and let out a frustrated sigh, then handed it off to a nearby guard who hurried to return it to its proper place. Dusting off his hands, Flynn forced himself to remain composed as Ayel launched into a frantic explanation.

As Ayel spoke, detailing a supposed attack, a murder, and—most horrifyingly—Amaya’s disappearance, Flynn’s chest tightened. His heartbeat quickened and his stomach churned. Taken? HOW? She had guards. Elara had been with her. She was in a crowd, surrounded by at least half the town!

Gadez had actually been telling the truth?

Guilt twisted in his chest, alongside growing fear. The blood drained from his face as Ayel’s words sank in, the weight of them suffocating.

As Ayel requested control to organize a search, Flynn couldn’t help but let out a sharp exhale through his nose, his patience thinning. Why did it have to be Ayel delivering this news? He had never liked Ayel and he had been plagued by the entire Raunefeldt family for most of his life. Flynn loathed the man’s pompous attitude, knowing full well his disdain for commoners, Lunarians and blight-born alike. And yet, Ayel was currently the only one he knew of who had answers, leaving Flynn little choice.

The Goddesses had to be playing some sort of sick joke.

When Ayel finished, Flynn inhaled deeply, forcing calm into his voice. "Thank you, Ayel," he said, curt but polite despite the storm brewing inside him. He could still hear his father’s voice, steady and commanding, echoing in his mind: “Never panic, Flynn. It does no good for the people to see their ruler falter. They look to you for strength.” His father’s lessons had been harsh at times, but necessary. A ruler who panicked was a ruler who lost control.

Turning to the guard who had taken the torch, Flynn issued a firm command. "Inform the Commanders. I want a search party assembled immediately. Go." The guard saluted and sprinted off toward the eastern gate without hesitation.

As Flynn’s gaze swept the square, he caught sight of Daphne exiting the inn with a man he recognized from the group surrounding Amaya earlier. Flynn’s voice cut through the air. "Daphne! With me. Something's happened."

His eyes narrowed in on the stranger next to Daphne then, noting the way he wore little clothing for how cold it was out. “You too.” he commanded, gesturing for the man to join him with Daphne and Ayel. “You were with the Princess earlier, weren’t you?”

Before letting the man answer, Flynn shifted his gaze back to Ayel. His instincts told him to send Ayel away, but he needed answers. Unfortunately, this irksome nobleman was his only lead. And if Ayel had been exaggerating or lying, Flynn wanted him there to face the immediate consequences.

“Ayel,” Flynn said, his voice steely, “you said you know where the body is? Lead us there. Now.”

---

_{Interactions: Ayel @Dezuel, Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Valthyr @Fetzen}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Hot Springs / Townsquare

Kira brushed strands of damp hair away from her face and tugged her coat tighter as she stole one last glance at Orion and Sya. Their conversation continued to flow with ease, and a small part of her hesitated, urging her to stay. Keep talking. Make “friends.” This was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? A chance at connection, at finding community after two years of solitude. Yet, the idea felt threatening and unnatural. Solace, isolation—they were familiar, safe. Despite herself, she turned away, her boots tapping against the stone steps as she climbed.

Halfway up, the world shifted.

Like a brick wall slamming into her senses, she froze mid-step. Her eyes dilated as every nerve in her body sharpened. A faint, metallic tang carried on the breeze—a scent she knew too well. Iron. Blood.

Her gaze flicked back toward Orion. From the stairs, she studied him, searching for any sign that he, too, had noticed it. But he remained engrossed in conversation, his expression unbothered. Then, she realized, Orion wasn’t like her. It was because she was a blood-fed blight-born that this scent called to her so strongly. Whatever type of blight-born he was, his instincts didn’t seem as attuned to blood as hers.

Tearing her gaze from Orion, she resumed her steps, a battle beginning to rage within. Every instinct screamed at her to follow the scent, to find its source, to sate the hunger that had been part of her existence for years. Yet her human side—the fragile piece that still clung to normalcy—wondered why. Why was she smelling blood? Why so close to town? Maybe it was just a hunter returning with a kill, the blood fresh from the field. No… She knew this scent didn’t belong to an animal. It was human.

Kira exhaled slowly in an attempt to steady herself as she slipped back into the temple. Quiet voices echoed down the halls, but she ignored them. As she passed, her eyes briefly caught the figure of Gadez speaking to the Priestess down a hallway. Out of curiosity, she raised an amused eyebrow. The Priestess sure did seem rather friendly with that man, but Kira couldn’t stay to find out why. The metallic scent lingered in her mind, pulling her towards the exit.

Without a word, she hurried back outside. The scent grew stronger, vivid and tantalizing. Her tongue flicked across her fangs as she nearly salivated, the hunger clawing its way to the surface.

Following a trail of fresh footprints, her boots crunched against ice as she moved further into town. Near the square, she spotted the Prince and that insufferable nobleman speaking, their exchange tense enough to draw the crowd’s attention. The air felt charged, a static tension rippling through the people around them. Kira’s gaze flicked briefly to the scene, but she didn’t stop to listen. Not now. Her focus was singular.

The scent led her westward, pulling her deeper into the outskirts of Dawnhaven, the town’s hum fading as she drew closer to the source.

---

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

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Town Square

To an onlooker, Flynn might’ve appeared calm, his expression neutral and composed, but inside, unease coiled tightly in his chest. His steps leaving the temple were brisk, though he did everything in his power not to appear rushed. Gadez’s cryptic words lingered in his mind, each syllable replaying over and over again. Resting atop his sword hilt, his left hand tightened its grip out of frustration. He refused to give that puppeteer’s words weight enough to visibly rattle him.

But the possibility, the mere suggestion that something might have happened to Amaya, gnawed at him. Despite his best efforts to ignore it, something inside told him Gadez wasn’t lying—this time.

As he grew closer to the town square, a frantic voice sliced through the air. Flynn’s steps faltered for a moment as he listened, his stomach twisting.

"Grab your pitchforks! Torches! Find the culprits! Hide your children! The monsters are real!"

Flynn sighed heavily as Ayel’s voice rang out with exaggerated drama. Unfortunately, he knew that voice anywhere. The voice that had grated him since childhood—one that he had been hoping to avoid for much longer.

"Find the blightborn murderers and I shall pay for your drinks for the next three days at the inn! I told you they couldn't be trusted!"

‘Murderers?’ he thought, his sense of dread growing. Had something happened or was this another one of Ayel’s dramatic meltdowns? Nonetheless, the insinuations were a disaster waiting to ignite. Ayel wasn’t just making a scene; he was stoking the embers of fear and suspicion.

"Prince Flynn in his goodness has tried to shield them! And they have exploited it! Spread out! Look for the lunaris princess! Leave no peasant home unturned! Find the guilty blightborn monsters! With me!"

‘Look for Amaya? Is she missing?’ His heartbeat picked up pace.

As he approached Ayel, Flynn tightened his jaw, forcing himself to maintain the calm facade he’d become so adept at projecting. Every instinct screamed at him to break into a run toward the tavern, to find Amaya, to confirm she was safe, but he couldn’t ignore the scene Ayel was stirring up. The townsfolk began muttering among themselves, a mix of confusion and unease rippling through the crowd as they warily eyed Ayel. This fire needed to be doused before it could spread.

"Ayel." His voice cut through the crowd noise like a blade, cold and commanding. The chatter of the townsfolk hushed, their wary gazes snapping toward the prince.

“What are you doing?” Flynn stepped closer, his posture straight, his eyes narrowed as he locked eyes with the flailing nobleman. “Put the torch down.” Flynn commanded, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken consequences. “This is not an Aurelian battleground. Inciting fear, chaos, and violence is not how we do things. Now—tell me exactly what happened.”

Flynn’s gaze bored into Ayel, making it clear that his antics wouldn’t be tolerated. The tension in the air was palpable, and the gathered crowd watched in silence, awaiting the nobleman’s response.

---

_{Interactions: Ayel @Dezuel}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Aelios Temple

Flynn's thoughts scattered at the sound of approaching footsteps. His eyes snapped up, landing on the blonde puppeteer from earlier in the day. Flynn narrowed his eyes, instinctively wary. What was he doing here? Stalking him? Ready with another round of cryptic nonsense? Flynn was in no mood for theatrics.

But then, Gadez spoke.

To Flynn’s surprise, his hushed, urgent tone carried no trace of mockery. The expression on his face was grim, with no sign of that menacing smile he so often wore. Despite Flynn’s best efforts to remain unaffected by this lunatic, a knot of anxiety began to form in his chest.

Princess Maize preyed upon by a wolf. The mere suggestion set him on edge. But was Gadez talking about Nyla, whom he brought on stage and called a Princess, or did he actually mean Amaya?

His mind flashed to his last interaction with Amaya, recalling the dark-haired stranger—the way he had smiled at her. The thought made his jaw tighten.

Flynn remained silent, untrusting but unwilling to dismiss the warning outright. When Gadez moved past him, Flynn paused, glancing back, debating whether or not to investigate further. ‘Why tell me this?’ He wondered. ‘What game is he playing now?’

Flynn frowned, his gaze flicking between the puppeteer and the door to Tia’s room, where Gadez stopped to knock. ‘What is his business with Tia? Do they know each other?’ The question added to his growing pile of doubts about the Priestess. What else had she neglected to tell him?

Deciding not to linger, Flynn turned away. ‘He’s just trying to get under my skin,’ he told himself, refusing to give Gadez the satisfaction of a reaction. Still… If there was even the slightest chance Amaya was in danger…. His pace quickened. He had intended to find Amaya after this anyway. Surely, he would find her back at the tavern, and this feeling of sudden dread would have been for nothing. And he would learn not to take this man's words seriously.

Without a word, Flynn continued back down the hall. His footsteps grew heavier as he descended the corridor, doubt creeping into the corners of his mind. Whether or not Gadez spoke the truth, Flynn needed to find Amaya.

Suddenly, a sharp pain at his temples made him wince. His thoughts, already scattered, grew muddled as a voice pressed into his mind—a woman’s prayer? As he rounded the corner, the source of the voice came into view.

There, standing over the brazier, was the blonde woman who had tried to hide behind Tia earlier. Her horns glinted in the firelight, tail flicking behind her. Flynn’s eyes narrowed slightly, observing the way she held her arm out over the flame, close enough that the heat would surely sear her skin. But she didn’t flinch.

As he listened to the prayer weaving its way into his thoughts, he couldn’t help but notice its elegance. This was not a desperate plea of someone borrowing faith for comfort—it was the practiced devotion of a true Priestess. It struck him then—the voice he was hearing was hers. Her words were not spoken aloud, and yet, they resounded in his mind with remarkable clarity. Somehow, she appeared unaware of her psychic projection, her focus entirely consumed by anguish.

His eyes swept over her again, noting the Priestess garb she wore, which he had thought to be a simple loan from Tia. But now, when she wasn’t hiding, he saw the way she carried herself, her posture, her familiarity with the flame. She wasn’t just wearing the robes—she belonged in them.

‘She must have come to Dawnhaven to aid Tia.’ He thought, his brows drawing together in empathy. Had the clergy sent a blight-born Priestess, or had she been taken by the blight during her journey here? Whatever had happened, it hadn’t seemed to strip her of her connection to Aelios.

He noticed the second woman then, golden-haired like the blight-born woman—the Champion of Aelios. The realization dawned on her face as she, too, seemed to hear the prayer. As the Champion moved toward the blight-born, realization settled on him—they were twins. Sisters, despite the stark contrast between them now.

Flynn watched as the Champion reached for the woman, pulling her arm away from the brazier before the heat could leave a more permanent mark. The interruption seemed to break the psychic connection, and Flynn’s mind began to clear, the headache fading into only a dull ache.

“You don’t need to repent for what you’ve become,” he said calmly, his green eyes softening as he took a few steps forward, revealing that he had heard her prayer. “I can’t speak for the Goddess,” he met her gaze, his eyes flicking to the Champion briefly before returning to the blight-born woman. “But, you are welcome here.”

He offered them a small nod before turning and leaving the temple, his mind racing once more. He’d need to ask Tia about this one later, as well as Gadez. And then there was the matter of interviewing the blight-born Priestess before their departure for the blight lands.

But first, Amaya. He would return to the tavern for her, just as he had promised.

---

_{Interactions: Gadez @Dezuel, Ranni, Dyna @Queen Arya}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Just FYI - I put in the Dawnhaven map below the world map in the characters tab :)

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Hot Springs

Kira barely had time to react as Sya’s embrace engulfed her, warm and damp from the water of the hot spring. Her entire body stiffened in shock, her arms awkwardly hovering mid-air as she froze, unable to process the sudden skin-to-scale contact. What was she supposed to do? Pat her back? Return the hug? Say something?

Before she could decide, Sya released her and slithered toward Orion. Kira blinked, part of her stunned at Sya’s boldness, the other half entirely fixated on Orion’s reaction. Her gaze darted to him, noting the way water slicked off Sya’s body and soaked into his clothes as she wrapped him in a similarly overzealous hug. It was almost comical, if only Kira could have shaken the discomfort that now overwhelmed her senses. This level of personal invasion, she hadn’t experienced in years, and was completely caught off guard.

Kira’s eyes flickered back to Sya, who now seemed utterly carefree, her mood lifted as she reclined with her drink in hand. The innkeeper's gratefulness tugged at something within—maybe guilt, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Kira’s defense of her had simply been incidental, driven by her seething disdain for that pompous nobleman. It wasn’t about friendship.

It wasn’t as if she disliked Sya, but she didn’t particularly like her either. She was nice enough, sure, but Kira wouldn’t go as far as to call her a friend. That felt… excessive. If standing up to an arrogant idiot was all it took to earn someone’s friendship, Sya’s standards were far too low. Or perhaps Kira’s were far too high. She’d always been careful about who she let close, wary of people’s intentions, and that cautiousness left her unsure of how to handle someone as open and impulsive as Sya.

The water suddenly felt stifling, and Kira realized with growing clarity that her time in the hot spring had run its course. She shifted, rising from the water with a quiet grace, “I’d better get going.” she said, moving toward the edge of the spring. The crisp air bit at her skin as she stepped out, her naked body quickly heading for her neatly folded clothes. With her back to the others, Kira hurriedly dried off and dressed, focusing on the motions as a way to push down the lingering awkwardness.

---

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

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Aelios Temple [Tia's bedroom] | Collaboration with @c3p-0h

Silently, Flynn followed Tia down the hallway, a sense of unease settling over him as he realized that she was leading him toward her own bedroom. Everything he had ever been taught told him that this was improper, especially for people of their station. Then again, he wasn’t quite sure what he had expected—there weren’t many private areas built into the temple that she could have taken him.

Once inside, he gently closed the door behind him, pushing any thoughts of lost decorum from his mind. The room was still faintly warm, with the remnants of a fire flickering low in the hearth opposite her bed. A single candle remained lit on her bedside table, casting a soft, amber glow. He walked toward the fireplace, unwilling to sit on her bed—there was something too personal about it—so instead, he stood before the dying embers.

Crouching, he grabbed one of the logs neatly stacked beside the hearth and carefully placed it atop the charred wood. With a subtle motion of his hand, he summoned a small thread of magic to the surface, igniting the log in an instant. The fire roared to life, casting a bloom of light across the room, illuminating Tia and giving him a better view of her.

He stood and turned toward her, studying her for a moment, noting the nervousness in her eyes and the way it seemed to pain her to speak aloud. His own expression remained steady, as if he were trying to find answers from the look in her eyes alone.

Tia tried not to fidget under his scrutiny, her fingers twisting around each other in front of her legs. She forced herself to hold his gaze. Her mind spun faster and faster with each moment that passed, concocting new reasons to worry.

Flynn took a breath, deciding to forgo the pleasantries of small talk before business. He had already pushed past formalities here, why stop now? The question he had been wanting to ask burned in his chest.

“You’ve already served the crown greatly, Priestess.” Flynn stated, his voice low and firm. The fire crackled beside him, its flickering glow casting shifting shadows across her face as his deep green eyes held her dark eyes, unblinking.

"Lady Hightower made a discovery about the blight." he continued, watching her closely, measuring every movement in her expression. "And it seems you are a key factor in it."

His eyes searched hers for any semblance of recognition or surprise. Was this news to her? Or had she known all along? His eyes narrowed slightly—not in anger, but in confusion, as if trying to piece together a puzzle.

Tia’s expression didn’t change for a moment. Her eyebrows pulled together slightly, not recognizing the name. And then – her eyes widened.

Eris.

That evening in the hot springs flashed through Tia’s mind. How she’d held Eris’ hand, drawing careful letters into her palm. Seek the violet flow. The words echoed in her mind without a voice.

“How did you know?”

Tia was suddenly very cold. Aelios’ fire crackled, casting the Prince in a flickering silhouette. She could only stare at him, frozen in place. Her dreams… they’d meant something. It was like waking up to that first midnight morning all over again, two days after a dream of eternal darkness. It was the realization that the world was unknowable and more powerful than she would ever comprehend – but it knew her.

_{…Tiiin…gaaaa…raaaaaa…}

But… maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions, and this wasn’t about Willis and his blood (though what else could it possibly be?) and her dreams were nothing. Tia didn’t know why, but she suddenly hoped they were nothing.

She’d been silent too long. The Prince was waiting for an answer. There was no warmth in his expression, none of that patience he’d had for her that first visit to the temple. Tia forced her lips to part. She closed them again. Finally breaking eye contact, she looked down at her hands. She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. Tia looked back up to the Prince.

“Know what?” The words were more breath than voice. They caught against her throat, and she tried to clear it as subtly as she could. But she needed to hear him say it.

Flynn’s eyes narrowed further, not quite buying her feigned ignorance. The silence had stretched between them for too long, giving him reason to believe she was giving herself time to come up with an alibi of some sort.

"How did you know that Willis’ blood would lead to a breakthrough?” he asked, traces of frustration evident in his tone now. “Eris—Lady Hightower—told me she never would have thought to look there, not without you.”

There was no accusation in his words—at least, not yet. What he sought was understanding. But the confusion in his gaze, those dark green eyes narrowed, spoke of more than simple curiosity. There was a growing sense of unease, of something not adding up in his mind. With every passing moment, whatever small amount of trust he had in her began to slip through his fingers like sand.

Tia’s heart was hammering against her ribcage.

It… it could’ve been a coincidence. Willis’ blood was purple, the same distinct shade as the blight she’d seen from afar two months ago. Perhaps her exhausted mind had just put the two clues together and…

But no, she realized, feeling more and more underwater with every breath. She hadn’t seen Willis’ blood until after she’d awoken from her nightmare.

Her prophecy.

_{Something lurked in the periphery.}

Her nerves rose with each degree of displeasure in the Prince’s voice.

“I—” Tia barely managed to cut herself off before she could start coughing. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on her throat. A hand came up unconsciously to slip under the fabric of her scarf and touch the scarred skin of her neck. When Tia opened her eyes again, it was to see the Prince still staring at her with his heavy gaze. She knew she couldn’t lie to him. Not just because she was an atrocious liar, but because she knew he wouldn’t relent until he received a satisfactory answer.

But what of the Arch Priest? He’d ordered her to not reveal her dreams, lest they prove false and do more harm than good. Her prophetic abilities were untested still. Untrained. Unreliable. And the thought of disobeying him, disappointing him again…

Tia spent another thunderous heartbeat staring at the Prince with anxious eyes. The raised skin of her scar was smooth and cool to the touch.

_{...It burned...}

Then she turned to the small drawer beside her bed, pulling it open. Careful stacks of paper filled the cavity, some filled, some fresh — and the book that held careful descriptions of her dreams sat beneath it all. It seemed to burn hotter than the fire the Prince had commanded into existence. Pressing her lips together, Tia pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and a pencil. She willed her hands to stop their trembling.

When she was done writing she turned back to the Prince, hesitating. Then she took three nervous steps towards him, not quite crossing the distance. She held the paper out to him. Her eyes stayed low, unable to meet his.

I did not know for certain. I just wanted to help.

Flynn read the note, his eyes skimming over the words, each one driving the sting of frustration deeper. He felt his patience wearing thin, his chest tightening. She wanted to help, yet here she was, withholding the one thing that could make a difference. His gaze hardened as he crossed his arms over his chest, meeting her eyes again. She flinched back at the cold steel there.

"You didn’t know for certain?" Flynn repeated, his voice flat, unamused by her insufficient answer. "You just took a wild guess, then?” he asked, studying her carefully again. Her lips parted, as if to answer. But no sound came out. “That’s quite lucky.” Disbelief dripped from his tone, though he never raised his voice. Tia felt herself withering under his words, her breath growing short and quick.

“It –”

“How could you want to help, and yet not explain further? If you know something more—don’t you want to help these people? Prevent more death?” The hardened look in his eyes softened for just a brief, pleading moment. Something broke in Tia at the sight – it was as if she’d struck him, guilt seeping into her like blood into soil. Desperate words bubbled in her chest, explanations, pleas, excuses… but none could make it past the ruined path of her throat.

For a few breaths, Flynn was silent, scrutinizing her again. Her breaths were coming rapidly now, audible as they moved through her. He thought back to what little he knew of her—how she had come from the Sunfire Citadel, highly recommended, how she was from the Ember Isles, a skilled healer, and yet... the wound on her neck. The fresh scar that should have never been there. How? How could someone like her have come to such harm, surrounded by those trained to heal? Things were not adding up.

He couldn’t let it go.

A question slipped from his lips before he could stop it, a blunt accusation. "What else does the Arch Priest know? Is that who gave you the information? Does he know how to stop the blight and yet he’d rather sacrifice Princess Amaya and myself instead?" His voice was quieter now, but sharp and filled with suspicion for the man who had sealed his fate with prophecy. Tia jolted at the questions, eyes widening.

For a moment, his mind wandered to his mother and her deep involvement with the Citadel. How much had she known? Had she been part of a larger plan? A pawn in their ploy, or had she also sacrificed him for some greater purpose?

"What game is the Citadel playing at this time? Are you all content to watch the world burn?"

“No! I can’t–” Tia’s voice cracked and shattered against her own jagged pieces. Air was a solid thing, tearing at her throat like claws. She coughed, curling in on herself. Her free hand went up to her throat again, as if her own magic could heal what was wrong with her. As if she was on that old dirt road again, hand against a gaping wound, trying to keep the life from spilling out of her. Her other arm lifted to cover her mouth with her sleeve. Her hand fisted, crumpling the paper.

The coughing fit wracked through her body, each breath another aggravation to her throat. Tears sprang to her eyes. She fought to remember the exercises the other healers had worked on with her – fewer breaths. Slower and longer. Relax the muscles in her neck and torso. But the air was like sand, grit against the mangled components that now made her. Eyes squeezed shut, she tried to hold herself together. She tried to breathe.

Flynn stood frozen, watching as Tia’s body convulsed with painful coughs, tears filling her eyes as she trembled. Each ragged breath struck him somewhere deep, where his Princely duties collided with the compassion he had always held for people. A fatal flaw that his parents had never quite been able to erase. His heart twisted in his chest. He had pushed her too hard, too fast, and now guilt consumed him like a tidal wave.

His finger twitched at his side, instinct urging him to reach out. Every fiber of his being wanted to come to her side, place a hand on her back, and offer comfort. Apologize. Tell her to breathe, to focus. He had always known what to do with his siblings, back when life was simpler, and they needed him in the ways only an older brother could be needed.

But he didn’t move. He forced himself to stay exactly where he was. Jaw tight, fighting against his inherent nature.

He couldn’t afford to give in to those gentle instincts anymore, no matter how badly it gnawed at him. This was too important. His life, Amaya’s life, the blight-born, the hundreds, maybe thousands who would die in the future if he didn’t find a solution—it all hung in the balance.

He needed answers. Real ones.

It felt like an eternity before the coughing subsided. Maybe it was only a moment. But when Tia could finally take a full breath, her throat was raw and burning. A dull ache radiated from her diaphragm. Her eyes were wet. She looked up at the Prince, embarrassed that he’d seen it all. But what would he do? Think less of her? Tia didn’t think his regard for her could get any lower at the moment, not with how he’d looked at her – like she was a person capable of summoning the blight herself.

The weight of his gaze was heavy as a brand.

_{It burned and blistered where it fell on her skin}

Tia pressed her lips together.

Despite his internal war, Flynn hesitated, his gaze softening for just a moment as he saw the raw vulnerability on Tia’s face. She looked so small, so broken, and for a moment, he wavered. He pulled his gaze away, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. His shoulders, once rigid with tension, sagged ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry.” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. He kept his eyes averted, unable to bear the sight of her in that moment. “I just—”

He faltered for a moment, considering his next words. “I need answers. We need answers.” His green eyes flicked back to her, but they were no longer as intense, no longer demanding—just pleading now. “If you know something, anything…”

She looked down at the crumpled paper she held – glimpses of words decorated the peaks and valleys she’d created. She looked back to the Prince. Raising the paper, she smoothed it out as best she could with shaking hands. Folding it was slow work. It felt meditative, almost. Align. Bend. Crease. Smooth. Align. Bend. Crease. Smooth. When she was done, she had a small, dense rectangle of paper, with only two words visible.

Tia allowed herself to hesitate for another moment. Breath scratched against her throat. Then she held it up to show him.

not certain.

Her free hand raised slightly, to stay any immediate reaction he might have, should he think this was another deflection or a lie. She held his gaze, desperately hoping he saw the truth of it. She tapped the paper.

‘Risky.’

There was no voice at all – just air in the shape of a word.

Flynn furrowed his brows as he read the note again, his eyes looking up just in time to see her mouth the word. Deep down, he knew she wasn’t wrong. If the Citadel knew something that she had been trusted with, then telling him their secrets was the most risky thing she’d ever do in her life.

But whose side was she on?

The Arch Priest’s many warnings echoed in Tia’s mind – how important it was to not burden others with the knowledge of her gift until she was sure it could be relied on. What if she couldn’t tell dreams from prophecies? What if she misinterpreted or misremembered things? Bad information was worse than no information at all, especially when she moved with Aelios’ light, drawing the trust and reliance of others. What if she mistakenly pointed them in the wrong direction, wasting time and resources they couldn’t afford to squander? What if she led to more senseless death, rather than prevented it? An ability of this magnitude couldn’t simply be wielded because there was the opportunity. It needed to be vetted and tempered, with discipline and training that Tia hadn’t had time to receive yet.

And now… Tia knew her resolve was a single push away from breaking, and the Prince wasn’t going to leave this conversation without his answers. She knew she was about to disappoint the Arch Priest here in this room, as surely as she knew the sun wouldn’t rise tomorrow. Any hope otherwise seemed foolish. But she needed the Prince to at least understand – the knowledge he sought from her might do more harm than good. Especially because Tia was the one providing it, without the Arch Priest’s guidance or discernment.

Flynn stared at her in silence, the tension between them thick as he considered her words—or rather, the lack thereof. His jaw clenched, a mixture of doubt and frustration weighing heavily on his mind. Time was slipping through their fingers, and every moment wasted meant more lives lost. Flynn could feel it in his bones, like the tightening of a noose inching closer each time the moon rose and fell.

The Citadel—its power and influence were undeniable. No one dared stand against it, not openly. But these were desperate times. Was it not time for the both of them to grow a spine?

Tia’s lack of explanation only managed to further cement his skepticism in the clergy. His ever present disdain for them burned hotter with every passing thought. These were the people who had sealed his fate, who had dictated his and Amaya’s lives with a wave of their hand. They had cast a shadow over his future, condemning him to death before he had a chance to live. But what if it was all fabricated? If they had known about the blight all along, then what else were they keeping hidden? And what exactly did they stand to gain?

A defiant rage stirred within as he stared at Tia for several long and uncomfortable silent heartbeats. A feeling he had managed to quell many times over. Snuff it out and move on. Ignore it and behave. Keep himself in line. But this wasn’t just about him anymore.

If the Citadel held knowledge about the blight—if they had used their influence to manipulate this prophecy to control him, to control the future—then everything was a lie. The thought burned through him like wildfire.

If they had manufactured his fate for their own ends, then Flynn would unravel every thread of their deception. He’d tear down the walls they hid behind and turn it all to ash.

His patience, the good-natured diplomacy he’d always catered to, had worn thin. It seemed that everything he had done to hold himself together—his family’s legacy, the expectations he had been bound by—were irrelevant compared to what they were facing.

Flynn could see Tia’s hesitation, the fear gnawing at her from the inside. Defying the clergy wasn't something to be taken lightly. He let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of his next words before he spoke them. His voice, when it came, was low, firm but not harsh.

“I understand,” he began, his eyes steady on her. “But we’re running out of time. I am running out of time.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. Then, his voice softened, but there was a fierce intensity behind it. “If you know something—anything…” his voice trailed off for a moment, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deception.

“I vow to protect you with my life, Tia.” His voice lowered further, more personal now as he purposely lost her formal title.

“Will you help me?”

Tia could only stand before him, stunned by his declaration – his quiet intensity, her name. The foreign thought that this man she barely knew would… would defend her, even now, when she’d only offered disappointment and frustration, when history told her that anyone else would’ve taken the opportunity to be rid of her. The sheer force of him seemed to radiate off of his body, furious and golden. She felt it burn away any last defenses she had. Giving in seemed as inevitable as the cycle of the stars across the sky.

But then… her eyebrows drew together slightly. ‘Protect’ her? From what? The blight? The blightborn who’d turned feral and vicious? Her throat was aflame with every shallow breath. Her face scrunched as she realized – he still didn’t understand. She looked up at him with her dark eyes, her own frustration finally building within her. It was a familiar feeling to turn inward – it sat in her burning throat, shards of glass cutting any words she could’ve offered in explanation.

She broke her gaze away from his. Looked down. Another cough tried to force its way through her, and it was all she could do to try and stifle it. Tia pressed her lips together again and looked back towards the small bedside table that held her writings. She looked back up to the Prince. His green eyes were nearly black in the flickering firelight of her room.

She walked to the table. Putting down her little folded rectangle, she retrieved her pencil and a fresh sheet of paper and scrawled careful words. Then she looked back into the open drawer. The dark cover of her book peaked out from beneath the stacks of paper. Tia hesitated. But she knew it was inevitable.

Flynn narrowed his eyes as Tia turned away from him, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. Was she truly more aligned with the clergy?

Moving the paper, she pulled out the book, flipping it open to where four sheets of paper were carefully aligned. She grabbed the top two and placed them on the table next to her note. Tia looked back towards the Prince. Somehow she couldn’t bear to put the knowledge in his hands herself. She couldn’t disobey the Arch Priest so directly.

Tia stepped away from the table, the papers resting innocently on the smooth wood. She waited for the inevitable as she clutched the book to her chest, its two remaining pages weighing down her arms.

When she finally looked back at him, her dark eyes filled with uncertainty, Flynn’s brow furrowed deeper. He shifted his gaze to the papers she had spread out on the nightstand, her silent invitation lingering in the air.

He took a few steps forward, his eyes settling the note she had just written. He picked it up, reading under the candle light. The words leaving him puzzled. What could she possibly mean by this?

I’m not the one in danger. I am the risk. I don’t know if my knowledge can be trusted yet.

His fingers brushed the edge of the paper as he stole a quick glance back at Tia, as if she might offer some kind of explanation. Her posture was rigid, clutching her book as if it were a shield, but she offered no expression, no words. Flynn's eyes shifted back to the other two pages she had laid out, the tension in him growing.

The first sheet was softer, more worn from handling. It was filled with careful, confused words – the paragraphs spoke of walking through a sea of darkness, towards a blinding, burning light. How that light crumbled apart bit by bit, shining dust littering the space around her – lining the path below her. It wasn’t the sea – it was a river. A glittering path that sparkled with every step she took, stardust glowing brighter as the burning light fell to pieces, until it was gone completely. All that was left was darkness – darkness that stretched endlessly, beyond any point she would ever reach, filled with only stars and the sounds of her breathing.

Flynn carefully read the hurried lines of writing, each word pulling him into a scene that felt foreign—vivid but abstract. Her words read like poetry, the meaning of it eluding him. He paused, glancing at the date written at the top, then read the words again, slower this time, as he tried to grasp the meaning behind it.

‘Was this a dream?’ He thought, though he couldn’t be sure. Nonetheless, the dream didn’t strike him as anything out of the ordinary. Flynn had plenty of odd dreams such as these. But why would she show this to him?

Finally, he gently set the page down on the table. Without a word, he picked up the final page. His heartbeat noticeably jumped in his chest, as if it instinctively knew that something was about to shift.

The second page was newer, the edges crisp and the ink bright. It told the story of her scar – or part of it, at least. Laying in the dirt. Desperately holding the shredded remains of her throat as blood leaked into the earth and her body numbed. The knowledge that she was dying. The river of stars, glittering above. But then the memory shifted. The stars coalesced into the blight itself, enveloping her as it fell. It pushed itself through her body, replacing the blood that had once filled her. The viscous purple ooze. The hunger. The silhouette with glowing eyes. The words that echoed with countless voices at once: In the eternal one’s veins, seek the violet flow.

Flynn’s eyes moved slowly across the second page, drawn into the memory Tia had captured. The imagery was brutal—a recounting of her near-death. Sympathy for what she had been through gripped him, though he questioned if this, too, was just a dream.

But then, as he reached the final paragraphs, things that had seemed grounded in reality started to become twisted—surreal.

‘The violet flow?’ He echoed the words in his mind, absorbing what Tia had written.

Both pages detailed the burning, unknowable presence that stalked her like prey. Both pages were dated – the first, six months ago. The second, the day she’d arrived in Dawnhaven.

His fingers tightened slightly on the page, and he could feel his heart start to race. The pieces began snapping into place, fragments of understanding threading together in his mind. The purple ooze, the blight. It had led her to Willis’ blood. These weren’t just dreams—they were something more. Visions.

Flynn turned to look at Tia, still holding the page. “You dreamt this?” he asked, his voice low but steady, the weight of realization sinking in. If she had dreamt this… if her dreams held any truth at all…

Tia watched the pages like they were snakes prepared to strike at her. Over the sound of her drumming heart, the Prince’s words reached her. She looked back to his stunned face as her grip on the book tightened. She nodded.

Flynn's gaze flicked back to the page, his eyes swiftly rereading the last portion, as if to reconfirm what he had just read.

He looked back to Tia, meeting her dark eyes. “If this is true,” he said, holding up the page in his hand, “then… you are in more danger than you know.”

He stared at her in silence for a few moments, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. His eyes searched hers, hoping to find some recognition of the peril she could be put in. Did she understand how deep this went? Had she heard about the things he had seen? Had she seen it for herself?

Tia blinked at him, caught off guard. Danger? Why on earth would she be in danger?

Then, bluntly, he asked, “Does the Arch Priest know?” He paused for a moment, but was unable to stop himself from asking the next question. “My mother?”

Confusion swirled within her, shown plain on her face. After a moment she approached the table – and the Prince. Trying to keep a respectful distance from him, Tia released a hand from its achingly tight grip on her book to pick up the pencil. She wrote a new message beneath her previous one, arm stretching to reach.

I came to the Arch Priest after my first one six months ago. He was teaching me to have better control.

Tia paused. The mention of the Queen reminded her of the burning letter still in her pocket. Fresh guilt filled her.

I don’t know if he told Her Majesty. He thought it would be dangerous for others to know before I had proper training.

Flynn read the words carefully, his brows furrowing as he processed what Tia had written. The Arch Priest was training her? His gaze focused toward the floorboards in thought, his eyes becoming distant. The world around him blurring.

An unwelcome memory clawed its way to the surface.

There she was—beaming at him, her fiery red hair catching the sunlight. The bustling noise of the market surrounded them, the kingdom alive with the scent of spices and the chatter of vendors and patrons alike. She laughed, her smile so full of life as she grabbed his hand and pulled him down the path. Her free spirited energy infectious. Abbi.

They were teenagers, carefree, weaving through the busy market. Laughter and the hum of life surrounding them.

And then, suddenly, darkness.

The warmth drained away in an instant. They were beneath the castle, hidden in the maze-like chambers no one ever spoke of. The air cold and damp. The walls pressed in around him. His heart raced. His mother’s hand gripped his own with a fierce, almost painful strength—anchoring him in place.

Abbi crumpled on the ground. She sobbed, her body trembling. The echo of her pain filled the small, cold chamber. The Arch Priest, younger then, stood over her, his face dark with anger. His mother’s face pale, but set in stone. Flynn’s pulse thundered in his ears. The Arch Priest lifted a hand. Abbi screamed.

The memory felt like a vice around his chest, squeezing tighter and tighter until he couldn’t breathe.

Flynn shook his head sharply, forcibly snapping himself out of it. His vision cleared, and the memory faded. His eyes refocused on Tia, grounding himself in the present. His heart pounded, but his face remained stoic as he stared at her. He couldn’t let it happen again.

"We should keep your dreams between us, for now." he said quietly, his voice guarded. “But please tell me if you have another. Your vision has been proven true, so far.” He paused, his expression darkening. “But we have to be careful.”

He looked down at the paper in his hand again, realizing he had been gripping it tightly. He offered it back to Tia, his eyes locking with hers. She reached out with a nervous hand. For a moment they both held the paper, gazes held heavy between them.

“The Arch Priest… he has not taken kindly to seers who’ve spoken up, in the past.”

Tia’s eyebrows pulled together, her head tilting in confusion. He was so… worried. Why? The storm that had passed over his features stuck with Tia, the memory of his eyes unfocusing, his countenance growing dark. Her hair stood on end. There was still so much she hadn’t told him. And he was demanding her secrecy, just as the Queen had, as the Arch Priest had. Whom was she to obey? The Arch Priest’s face flashed in her mind. His gentle demeanor, the way his skin wrinkled when he gifted her with an encouraging smile. How much it’d hurt when she’d lost his favor through her own foolishness. Her throat burned. She brought the wrinkled paper to hold against her book, before picking up the pencil and writing again on her notepaper.

Before the storm I wrote to the Arch Priest about dreams I’ve had here. He has only ever offered me guidance.

Flynn studied Tia’s words, his brow furrowing in thought. Had the Arch Priest had a change of heart after all these years? Time could alter even the most stubborn of men, couldn’t it? Perhaps the man who once towered in Flynn’s memories—sharp, domineering, and unrelenting—had softened, become someone Tia could trust. And yet…

Flynn shook his head slowly, letting out a faint breath through his nose. He glanced up from the note, meeting Tia’s gaze. “Guidance… for now.” he said, a warning laced in his tone, “so long as it suits him.”

Without another word, he straightened and turned, taking a few steps back toward the warmth of the hearth. He stood there for a moment, his back to her, one hand resting on the mantel as he stared into the flickering flames. Silence stretched between them, only broken by the occasional pop of burning wood.

His thoughts raced as he watched the flames flicker. How much could he trust Tia? Deep down, he knew he couldn’t trust her at all. No matter how much he wanted to believe that people were inherently good, she was still part of the clergy. She still held strong bonds of loyalty to them. She’d been sent here as the blade to their prophecy, after all. There was little that could be done for someone so indoctrinated.

It wasn’t surprising to him, she’d been nurtured by their teachings, sheltered in their halls. She had no reason to question their motives. And yet, it wasn’t her loyalty that unsettled him.

It was the way she always managed to peel back his defenses with nothing more than a glance or a carefully written note. With Tia, the mask slipped too easily. The layers he’d worked so hard to maintain fell away. She always left him feeling vulnerable, raw in ways he couldn’t explain. He hated it. ‘Stupid.’ he chastised himself. He had said too much. Felt too much.

Still, he needed her. Her assistance, her insight, her healing capabilities. If her visions held any truth, then she would be invaluable—assuming the Arch Priest wasn’t pulling all her strings. He had to tread carefully, to temper his frustration and keep his distance. Pushing her too hard could cost him, and that was something he couldn’t afford to lose. Not right now, anyway.

His jaw tightened as he finally turned back to her, mindfully steeling off his emotional ties this time. “We’ll be traveling to the blight lands soon,” he said, his words firm but calm. “The discovery must be tested. I’d like you to come with us.”

Tia watched the way the firelight flickered around the edges of his body, his face cast in shadow. She’d missed something, somehow – some opportunity had slipped away from her, and now the weight of every secret she was still keeping sat heavy between them. The Prince’s voice, cold and formal, only seemed to bury her deeper.

Her eyes widened at his declaration. His face might’ve been dark and hidden, but hers was not. Fear was stark across her features. But only for a moment. She looked away from him, like that might hide her thoughts.

Traveling to the blight lands. The memory of her last trek towards the blight was painted across her neck. It was the pale color of her hair. The broken shards of her voice.

Her grip on the book grew tight, her knuckles whitening. She couldn’t look at him as she nodded. Tia was nothing if not obedient.

Obedient to whom? To what end? All Tia had ever wanted was to help others – and now it seemed that any choice she made, someone was put at risk. The Arch Priest was relying on her. The Queen was relying on her. And now the Prince, so desperate for solutions… he still didn’t know about the two other visions she’d had. What if they were false, because Tia was still inadequate? What if he poured his resources chasing after a fantasy she’d dreamed up?

Tia looked back up to the Prince. She still couldn’t see his face clearly, but his eyes caught the light from the candle on her table. She nodded again, trying to seem more sure of herself.

She would tell him about the dreams, as he’d requested… after she could be sure they were worthy of his pursuit. Or perhaps the Arch Priest had replied to her by now, giving his blessing to freely share her visions. Tia prayed that was the case. But something about the way the Prince seemed so sure the Arch Priest couldn’t be trusted, contradicting everything she knew about him… Tia chewed the inside of her lip.

And as for the letters to the Queen… Tia felt the stiff envelope shift over the inner layer of her robe. It was an unanswered question bearing down on her.

Flynn's attention lingered on Tia's face, catching the fear that suddenly flashed in her eyes before she averted her gaze. For a moment, he wondered what the Arch Priest saw in her. What had compelled him to send her here to this desolate, icy wasteland? How could she be chosen to cut the thread of life for the former heir to the Aurelian throne?

Flynn had expected someone much more stoic, calculating and manipulative. Someone more molded for a task like this. And then, he thought—was this the Arch Priest’s way of being rid of her without getting blood on his own hands? There was something raw and uncertain about her, a vulnerability that made her presence here feel cruel. And yet, she managed to unravel him so easily. Maybe she was exactly the right person for the task.

For a moment, the urge to apologize, to acknowledge the weight he had added to her shoulders, tugged at him. But he forced it down, retreating behind practiced detachment. Sympathy wouldn’t keep either of them safe. Instead, he simply nodded an acknowledgement, his expression unreadable.

"I’ll let you know when we plan to leave," he said, his voice returning to formality, devoid of warmth. "Once I’ve finalized the details."

Without waiting for her reply, he made his way to the door. At the threshold, he paused briefly, his back to her, his tone colder than he intended.

"Thank you for your service to the crown."

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Hot Springs

Kira’s smirk widened as Orion’s dry retort hung in the air. For the first time in what felt like forever, a spark flickered to life within her—a warmth she hadn’t realized she’d missed so deeply. The rhythm of playful banter. The subtle dance of give and take. The unspoken challenge laced within words. A flicker of something stirring in her chest that she thought she’d long forgotten how to feel. For a fleeting moment, she felt alive again. Human.

“A stable boy? Mmm…” she mused, leaning into a teasing tone. “Not my type either, I’m afraid.” She paused, tilting her head and looking upward, as if weighing her words with exaggerated thoughtfulness. “I think I prefer something… more mysterious. Brooding, perhaps.” Her fiery eyes locked onto his, a mischievous glint in them.

For a heartbeat, the air between them felt charged, her words hanging there with a daring edge. Then, just as quickly, she shifted her attention back to Sya, whose bold and flirtatious words spilled freely—likely encouraged by the bottle of wine that she had downed more than half of.

At Sya’s flirtatious remark seemingly aimed at her, Kira arched a brow in amusement. Her gaze flicked to Sya’s blue scales, lingering there for a moment as she considered the comment. She had been with a woman or two before, but a half-snake? That would be a new one.

How would that even work? Did Sya only gain pleasure from her top half now? She blinked a few times, her lips pressing into a firm line as she yanked her mind back to the present. Clearly the alcohol was going right to her head, too.

Without another word, she grabbed the bottle Sya had passed around and took another sip. Placing the bottle down beside Orion, Kira chuckled lightly under her breath as Sya proposed “lightening their purses” for some of the Prince’s wine. “I might take you up on that offer sometime.” she murmured with a faint smile, enjoying the sassy energy that radiated off Sya now. Despite the turmoil of her emotions, Kira had to admit that there was something endearing about Sya’s unabashed nature.

Her mood shifted sharply, though, as Sya brought up Ayel again. A spark of irritation flared in her chest, and her amusement disappeared, replaced by a steely expression. Kira clicked her tongue. “Tch. Don’t waste your time worrying about him,” she said coldly, her voice low. “He’s just a weak little man who doesn’t know his head from his ass. Let him talk. You have more power in a single scale than he does in his entire being.” She seethed, her hatred of him palpable.

“He doesn’t get to decide who holds the power here.” There was an edge to her words—a subtle, dangerous undercurrent. At the end of the day, Ayel’s life existed here because blight-born allowed it. Because she allowed it. If not for her weak desire for community, Kira would have already drained every last drop of his life force.

The words hung in the air for a moment, edged like a blade. Her patience for men like Ayel was razor-thin, her sense of justice and her lingering rage a volatile combination. Kira’s gaze flicked to Orion briefly, half-expecting a look of disapproval or for him to chime in with some tempered wisdom to counter her aggression.

But then Sya shifted the conversation, her teasing directed squarely at him, and Kira’s expression softened. The fire of her irritation dimmed to a faint flicker, yet lingered like a dying ember.

Though she still felt the residual tension from the mention of Ayel, she tried to push it aside, trying to reclaim that spark of life she’d held so briefly. Her eyes flit between the two of them as she watched the interaction. The corner of her lips quirking upward ever so slightly as she watched Orion, curious to see how he would handle Sya’s brazen flattery.

---

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

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Residential Area - Outside

Eris furrowed her brows as Ayel questioned her on what the donation had been for. Certainly his family did fund many things, but this sort of thing felt like it should’ve stood out from all the rest. "The funding for researching a cure for the blight." She reminded him, her voice soft despite her confusion.

Suddenly, though, her memory recalled that she had heard it had been his eldest brother’s name on the donation. She would not mention that and risk embarrassing the Lord, though. Wounding Ayel’s ego seemed like a dangerous mistake to make. Still, the whole exchange struck her as odd. How could Ayel not know? Was he truly so detached from his family's endeavors?

Her gaze hardened slightly as Ayel began to speak of Sya in such a negative light. Sya was one of the most genuine people she knew, often wearing her heart on her sleeve, and hearing Ayel speak of her made something cold stir within. She knew the prejudice many held against blight-born, but it still saddened her that such venom could be so freely spoken in what was supposed to be their safe haven. They were still people. Sya was still a person.

Why had Ayel even come to Dawnhaven if he held such disdain for its people? She couldn’t fathom why anyone who hated blight-born would willingly enter a town so full of them. Did he have ill intentions? She even doubted his words about being Flynn’s best friend—his attitude clearly didn’t align with the Prince’s values.

Worse yet, it made her wonder if she had added to Sya’s burden by her reaction earlier that day. Guilt crept in closer, and she glanced quickly down, fighting the uncomfortable feeling that had settled in her chest. Had she been no better than those who held disdain Sya?

As Ayel moved on to speak of the Prince’s marriage, Eris’ discomfort deepened. The way he referred to Amaya as a "barbarian" was nothing short of disrespectful. Eris had limited experience with the Princess, but what she could tell, she had been nothing but kind, and her position as the Princess of Lunaris demanded respect. “Prince Flynn did marry Princess Amaya," she confirmed, her voice now a touch colder, "and from my experience, she’s been quite lovely. As has Sya, the innkeeper."

Ayel was bold, perhaps too bold for his own good. She couldn't imagine what the Lunarians might do if they heard him speak like this about their Princess. And what if the Prince were to hear? She had heard the rumors about Ayel’s ego, but seeing it in action was something else entirely.

Sensing a subtle shift in Nathaniel’s demeanor, Eris quickly stole a glance up at him. As he began to play at Ayel’s obvious vanity, she offered a small, mischievous smile. Turning her attention back to Ayel, she nodded along with the over the top compliments Nathaniel handed to him. The sarcasm seemed to go entirely over Ayel’s head, and she couldn’t help but find it amusing.

When Ayel confirmed just how charismatic and beautiful he thought he was, Eris almost laughed outright. Luckily, her training as a noble woman allowed her to stifle it and only allow the small twitch of a smile to pull at the edge of her lips. She didn’t have to try hard to believe the rumors now; Ayel's arrogance dripped from his every word.

As Nathaniel asked if they could head to the Alchemy Chambers, she turned to him, considering it for a moment. Was it odd or unladylike to bring him back to her home? No… it wasn’t just her home. He would be working there too, after all. It was only natural that he would want to see his work station… right?

“Of course.” She agreed, glancing back at Ayel who began to speak of his younger sister. “I did not realize Lady Anora would be arriving as well. I will be sure to look for her.” she said, genuinely surprised. Anora did not strike her as the type to venture to such a dangerous place—and she was so young. Did their family not care for her safety? Then again, Ayel didn’t seem the type to care for much beyond himself.

“It was a pleasure, Lord Raunefeldt.” she lied, bowing her head to him briefly and offering a warm smile. Turning back to Nathaniel, she caught his gaze as they both turned to leave.

Once they were out of earshot, Eris couldn’t hold it in anymore. She flashed Nathaniel a knowing look, her blue eyes sparkling with mischievous amusement. "He's, uhm… interesting, isn't he?" she said, barely holding back a giggle. She kept her voice low as they walked toward the Alchemy Chambers, boots crunching against ice and snow.

With a playful tilt of her head, she added, "So… why didn’t you keep dancing with Daphne? You two were quite the pair out there. I’m sure she was enjoying herself." She teased, her tone light, but her eyes flickered to him, trying to read what lay beneath his carefully composed exterior.

---

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

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Location: Aelios Temple

Flynn sat leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together as he stared into the eternal flame, lost in thought while the soft crackle of the fire filled the air. The flickering light danced across his face as he contemplated his responsibilities. At the sound of a nearby door creaking open, he was pulled from his thoughts. His gaze lifted as Tia entered the temple, her silhouette framed by the warm glow of Aelios’ flame. Two blonde women followed close behind her, both unfamiliar to him.

Tia seemed to freeze in place, obviously shocked by his sudden presence. Another woman snapped to attention the moment she laid eyes on him, wearing the recognizable armor of Aelios' Champions. It seemed Tia had received some reinforcements to help her tend to the temple and keep her safe here, which was a relief.

The second unfamiliar woman, however, seemed to shrink back, trying her best to blend into Tia’s shadow. Flynn's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the horns protruding from behind Tia’s blonde hair and a swaying tail behind them. A Blightborn. He made a mental note of another new blight-born arrival in town—one he'd need to interview in due time. Strangely, she wore priestess robes. Had Tia lent her a spare set? Flynn’s brow furrowed as his gaze lingered on the Blightborn woman, who seemed too terrified to meet his eyes.

An awkward silence filled the temple, none of them speaking a word for a few heartbeats. His father would have stood in rigid silence with glaring eyes, demanding formalities until those who entered bowed to him first. Instead, Flynn sighed inwardly and rose from his seat. He gave them each a respectful nod, bowing his head to the three women, a gesture of greeting that was not required of him but felt more natural.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” he greeted, his voice warm but formal. His eyes briefly passed to the Champion of Aelios, whose stance spoke of her strict discipline. “At ease, Champion.”

Then his gaze shifted toward the one hiding behind Tia. Flynn tried to catch a glimpse of her face, but it remained buried in Tia’s shoulder, her tail twitching with nerves. The way she hid reminded him of his youngest sister, shy and timid Lilliana who dearly loved her eldest brother. It pulled at his heartstrings, and he felt the urge to reassure her, to tell her she was safe here and that he held no judgment against her. “Welcome to Dawnhaven, both of you.” he simply offered instead, a faint smile reaching his lips.

Shifting his focus back to Tia, he hesitated, studying her familiar face. She still seemed surprised by his presence, as though she were bracing for impact. Did she already know why he was here? Had she expected him to confront her about the blight and had hoped to avoid it? He wondered how she was getting this information—or, more importantly, who was feeding it to her.

“Might I have a word with you, Priestess?” he asked, his gaze flicking toward the corridor that led to the private rooms, his head subtly tilting in that direction. “In private?” He added, meeting Tia’s eyes again, his expression not betraying any sort of emotion as he waited on her response.

---

_{Interactions: Tia @c3p-0h Dyna, Ranni @Queen Arya}