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Happy birthday me!
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That moment when you try connecting the mouse in the usb port and then being confused as to why you can't move the cursor with the USB cable....
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Also known as : Ashevelendar/Ashevelen/AsheTheReborn

Best compliment so far from @Tortoise

On the brilliant roleplay : Through The Gateways

Playing as the Goddess of Trade in Divinus 7



Playing as the Goddess of Shadowy-Trades in Divinus 7



Thank you!

Most Recent Posts


Emberweaver

The Ember’s Birth

One week later






As soon as Ashe left, they made their way to the future Emberweaver, determined to transform the unfinished building into the shop of their dreams. The structure was incomplete, with gaps in the walls and snow seeping through the cracks, but Ashe's mind was set on the vision they had for it. A place where their craft could thrive and from where a steady source of income would follow.

The true power of the blizzard started soon after Ashe began their work, but they barely noticed the biting cold outside. The heat radiating from their body was more than enough to keep the frigid air at bay as they focused on repairing and building. Unlike most of the town, Ashe was not confined by the storm; their powers allowed them to continue without interruption.

Instead of traditional wood, Ashe melted down the wagon they had arrived in—a relic of their journey—and combined it with whatever stones they could buy or scavenge from Dawnhaven. Using their molten touch, they shaped the metal and stone to reinforce the structure of Emberweave, fusing the materials into place with delicate precision. The shop began to take on an almost otherworldly appearance, its foundation strengthened with materials far more resilient than wood.

The process was slow but steady, as Ashe slowly finished the building, using their control over heat to shape the space exactly as they wanted it. Though the shop was still a work in progress, the core of Emberweaver began to take form. Sturdy and suited to withstand Ashe’s work.

During the storm, Ashe ventured out a few times, gathering what little stone and metal they could find in Dawnhaven. Each piece was carefully melted and shaped to fit the evolving structure, the walls now a blend of metal and stone rather than flammable wood. The vision of Emberweaver as both a fortress and a workshop was becoming reality.

As the storm finally began to ease after a week of relentless snow and wind, Emberweave stood partially completed but solid. The central hearth, built from stone and metal, was ready to blaze with the flame-threaded textiles which Ashe planned to display. There was still much to do, but the most challenging parts were done.

With the winds dying down and the town beginning to stir after days of isolation, Ashe took a moment to survey their progress. Emberweave was coming to life, and soon, the people of Dawnhaven would see the results of their efforts.

Dawnhaven’s Town Square

The Burning Gifts

A Royal Meeting






Ashe smiled warmly at Eris’s excitement, their fiery gaze softening with genuine gratitude. "Your words are kind—true, too, if I may say so. And don’t think I’ll forget that promise. I’ll be holding you to spreading the word about Emberweaver." Their tone was playful, yet the underlying confidence was clear. Ashe’s smile widened as they watched Eris pull the fiery coat closer, clearly enjoying her growing comfort.

However, as the speech started, Ashe’s expression grew more sombre. The news of Queen Anjali’s passing hit them harder than they had expected. Though they had never known her personally, Ashe had once been a citizen of Lunaris—a different life, before the blight took them. They had fond memories of Lunaris’ court, and there was one occasion when the Queen herself had complimented a finely crafted pair of gloves—one that Ashe had made, though she never knew who the artisan was.

As that memory resurfaced, Ashe felt the flames within them burn a little less brightly, their heat dimming as sadness briefly tempered their ever-present fire. The loss of such a figure, even for someone like Ashe, resonated deeply.

When the weather began to shift and snow fell heavily around them, Ashe found themselves at ease with the biting cold. In fact, the contrast between their internal heat and the chill air helped them feel more balanced. "I’ve always appreciated the cold. Helps me cool down a bit," Ashe remarked with a wry smile, clearly unaffected by the winter’s harshness.

As Eris began to return the coat, Ashe gently pushed her hands back toward her. "No, keep it for now. Return it when you’re home—I’ll come by and collect it later. This weather doesn’t bother me in the slightest." They nodded firmly, making it clear they wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. "Besides, I think you’ve grown attached to it already."

With a final glance toward the stage, Ashe’s demeanour shifted slightly. "My apologies but I need to speak with the Prince and Princess before they leave." They offered Eris a respectful nod before excusing themselves. "We’ll talk again soon. Stay warm, Lead Sage."

Grabbing the sack where the two statues were laying in, Ashe made their way through the thinning crowd, their path clear as people instinctively gave space to the living flame. When they reached the royal couple’s entourage, they bowed deeply but kept a cautious distance from them…and their guards.

"Your Highnesses," Ashe greeted them with a voice both steady and deferential, reflecting the gravity of the situation. "A moment of your time, if possible, please! I wish to offer my condolences for the Queen. And my thanks, for all you have done in bringing us together here."

Amaya was very quickly reaching the end of her rope. She was a raw nerve, wrung out by grief but unable to collapse until she was safely out of sight. She was tired of being looked at, and performing for strangers. That odd, ominous man that had crowed at their retinue had already set her on edge, though her placid mask never wavered. But the flurry of snow around them had grown thicker, as if to hide them. She tried to focus again on the warmth of Flynn’s hand curled around hers, that little flame that she had to protect from her magic.

But she was so tired.

So when a new voice called out to them, Amaya couldn’t help the way her fingers twitched. Her chest rose as she tried to take a deep breath to maintain her composure, but she couldn’t keep the frost from forming at her fingertips. Her eyebrows pulled together slightly, irritation turned inward as she tried to pull her magic back - at the very least, away from the hand held in Flynn’s.

The royal guards, already on high alert from the earlier encounter with the ominous stranger, visibly tensed at the sight of Ashe approaching, their fiery form instantly recognizable as blight-born. One of the armoured men stepped forward, voice gruff and authoritative. "Move along. The Prince and Princess need to be alo—"

Flynn raised his free hand, cutting the guard off with a swift motion. "Stand down," he said, his tone firm but calm. The guard hesitated, then stepped back in line, though the retinue remained watchful, hands near their weapons.

Flynn’s eyes locked onto Ashe, taking in their unique appearance and noting the way warmth radiated from their body, which was a welcome change. He hadn’t seen this blight-born before, and as the stranger bowed, he mentally added Ashe to the growing list of blight-born flooding into Dawnhaven that he needed to vet. It was becoming harder for him to keep track of them all, the waves of new arrivals testing the limits of his control and patience. Before Flynn could speak, he felt it—a frigid cold emanating from Amaya’s hand, seeping into his skin.

Without turning to look at her, Flynn gave her hand a gentle squeeze, a silent reassurance, hoping to be some sort of anchor for her. He knew how fragile her control over her magic had been, especially after everything that had happened today. They couldn’t afford for her to lose control here, not in front of the town.

Amaya wasn’t focusing on the large, eye-catching blight-born — she couldn’t spare the attention away from trying to wrestle her magic under control. She tried to concentrate on the warmth of Flynn’s hand, firm around hers, as ice crystals slowly crawled up the fingers of her free hand she had hidden in the folds of her dress.

Flynn's gaze remained on Ashe, steady and composed despite the biting cold from Amaya’s hand. "Thank you," he said, his voice calm yet firm, "It means a great deal to us in times such as these.” He paused, assessing the blight-born's intense form with a cautious respect. "I don't believe we've met before. Are you new to Dawnhaven?"

Amaya wondered if she should in fact stop trying to protect Flynn’s hand from her magic, if that would give him a better sense of urgency.

The snow swirled heavier around them, as if in response to Amaya’s fraying patience, but Flynn stood firm, protective of her while giving Ashe the courtesy of conversation. He didn’t let his guard down, but he needed to keep track of every blight-born in town—even if the timing was far from ideal.

Ashe straightened from their bow, offering a steady smile despite the tension in the air. "Emberweave. Ashe Emberweave, Your Highnesses, at your service." Their deep voice was respectful yet warm, much like the heat radiating from their form. "I’ve only just arrived in Dawnhaven from Lunaris."

They paused for a moment, their molten gaze flicking briefly between Flynn and Amaya before settling on the Prince. "A letter was sent ahead of me, announcing my arrival," Ashe continued, their tone calm, understanding the weight of responsibility that lay on Flynn’s shoulders. "But I imagine it might have been lost along the way... or perhaps you simply haven’t had the time to read it yet."

Flynn kept his gaze steady on Ashe as they introduced themselves, offering a respectful nod in response to their formal greeting. "Ashe Emberweave, pleasure to meet you. I apologize if your letter got lost in the shuffle. We've been... occupied with winter preparations as of late," he said, the wind now whipping his golden hair around as the cold nipped at his face.

Admittedly, Fynn had not expected winter to arrive so swiftly. Between his and Amaya’s hands, it was becoming difficult for Flynn to discern whether the icy chill he felt was from her magic or simply the worsening weather.

As they spoke, Ashe’s eyes softened slightly, sensing the strain in the air around Amaya. They didn’t pry or linger on the Princess’s evident distress, but the swirling snow and the slight frost creeping over her hand didn’t go unnoticed. Still, Ashe’s tone remained polite and steady, a reflection of both patience and respect for the gravity of the situation.

"I didn’t mean to impose, but I thought it best to offer my condolences, formally introduce myself, ask that you may allow me to claim a house which I will transform into a shop and offer both of you a gift.

As Ashe spoke, they rested a hand gently on the sack slung across their shoulder, where the two carefully wrapped statues lay hidden. They didn’t pull them out yet, waiting respectfully for the Prince and Princess to grant their permission.

Weighing Ashe’s request for a few moments, Flynn eyed the blight-born as he tried to make a snap decision about whether this one was a danger or not. Outwardly, they seemed threatening, yet their demeanor and respectful tone said otherwise. Flynn knew, however, that every blight-born was dangerous, even if they were well behaved. Not wanting to linger in the cold or allow Amaya to unravel further, he made a decision.

"I’ll grant you permission to claim a home for now, at least while we wait out this storm. However, we’ll need to revisit the matter. Our process includes an interview with my royal advisor to ensure the safety of all citizens in Dawnhaven and collect knowledge about your affliction," Flynn explained, his tone polite but firm on the matter—he would not be changing his mind on the process of things. “There are homes being built to the west of town and many that are currently empty. Take your choice.” Flynn continued, gesturing towards the road that led towards the developing residential area.

Amaya wanted to scream. The words the newcomer exchanged with Flynn were indistinct and blurry against the pounding of her heart in her ears, but from the slow cadence of their voice, they weren’t in a hurry either.

She tried not to focus on the icy bite of her magic as it travelled up her hand that she tried to hide. It crawled along her palm, encircling her wrist, turning on her own body as she refused to give it an outlet. To her horror, she began to shiver from the effects of her own frigid magic. She kept her eyes on Ashe’s face, though she wasn’t paying attention. Her expression was blank. But the signs were there for those who thought to look — the tremble of her slight body as she fought against leaning into the heat of either Flynn or Ashe. The way her breath became shallow and quick. Her hand tightened around Flynn’s in warning.

Feeling Amaya's hand begin to tremble, Flynn cast her a quick glance before returning his focus to Ashe, not wanting to draw attention to her growing discomfort. His concern for her grew and instinctively he wanted to pull her closer to him—to offer a hug for support and to share body warmth. Logically, he knew Amaya would rather kiss one of the livestock than be pulled into his embrace. Holding her hand had already been pushing the limit.

Subtly, Ashe allowed a gentle wave of warmth to radiate outward, the heat rising just enough to melt the falling snow as it touched the Prince and Princess. The warmth was enough to create a protective barrier, cutting through the frigid air. Ashe made sure to direct the heat so that it didn’t overwhelm but to offer a brief respite from the cold. The snowflakes sizzled as they met the invisible warmth, vanishing before they could settle.

Yet as the warmth spread, Ashe could feel the familiar strain of keeping their heat controlled, balancing between comfort and excess. Luckily, the cold storm helped ease the effort—nature itself cooling them just enough to maintain their fire without pushing them too far. There was no risk of overheating, for now.

As the warmth surrounding Ashe became more noticeable, Flynn’s thoughts pulled away from Amaya. Immediately, the Prince knew that this was Ashe’s doing. His emerald eyes locked with Ashe’s molten gaze for a few heartbeats, a silent shared look of understanding. Ashe may have thought that Amaya was simply cold, but Flynn appreciated the blight-born’s attempt to help regardless. Subtly, Flynn offered them a discreet nod of thanks.

Amaya blinked, surprise flickering across her face, as heat filled the space around them and began to seep into her skin. She still shivered — it would take a bit before her body realised it wasn’t going to freeze here, on this little road. But crystal by crystal, the ice coating her skin began to melt. Her magic still danced under her skin, too frenetic and great to be contained by her body. But as it searched for a seam to rip through into the world, as it leaked out of her fingertips, the ice couldn’t form. It instead coalesced into droplets of cool water against her skin. Amaya could feel the way the snow still fell in that same frantic blizzard, swirling around them. But when she finally let her eyes refocus, allowing herself to give attention to her immediate surroundings, she saw the snow melt away into faint tendrils of steam.

Her eyes flicked back to Ashe, and for the first time truly looked at them. They cut an intimidating, otherworldly figure, all charcoal and embers, with a large frame and glowing eyes. Amaya was still wary around blight-born, after eight years of horror stories and strife whispered into her ear by her father’s advisors. She didn’t know what made her more uneasy now — being so close to one that was clearly powerful, or that they had noticed her distress enough to apparently take it upon themselves to address it.

They made no mention of it. They weren’t even really looking at her. Somehow their polite discretion only made her more uncomfortable, in the same way Flynn’s patience had as he’d joked about the cracked bannister in their cabin.

The relief (and gratitude) that the new warmth provided was only a small part of the mixture of exhaustion, embarrassment, and frustration that swirled within her. Amaya hesitated a moment. Then she released her grip on Flynn, pulling away and drawing her hands behind her back. She tried to maintain her composure, unwilling to break any more than she already had.

As Amaya withdrew her hand from his, Flynn felt the emptiness of the loss, though he refrained from reacting, knowing she had already done enough for him by leaving the stage hand-in-hand. He turned his focus back to Ashe, eyeing the sack slung over their shoulder.

"The gift you mentioned—I appreciate the gesture, though it is not necessary. It’s my pleasure to grant you a place here." Flynn said, offering a faint smile, though the weight of the day hung heavily on his expression.

"It’s no problem at all, Your Highness. I understand how winter and other pressing matters might cause delays." They then glanced briefly at Amaya, noticing the slight tension still present in her demeanor. "Besides," Ashe added with a gentle wink in Amaya’s direction, "it seems winter has a way of distracting all of us."

Amaya had no idea how to react to a stranger winking at her – it had never happened before. Perhaps if she were less distracted by the many ways in which she was falling apart, she would’ve managed to do more than just give Ashe a startled look.

Turning back to Flynn, Ashe continued, "I’ve already found and claimed a house. Apologies for doing so without formal permission first, but it... called to me. Felt like the right place to begin Emberweaver." Their smile grew as they explained, "I’ll, of course, follow your process and agree to the interview. I understand why it’s necessary. After all, not all of us blight-born are as fortunate to have control over our transformations."

With a subtle shift, Ashe moved their hand to the sack on their shoulder, the faint glow of embers dancing under the cloth. "As for the gifts, they’re not just offerings. They’re a way for me to show what I’m capable of prior to the interview." With care, Ashe pulled out the first of the two statues—a radiant depiction of Aelios, the Sun Goddess, crafted from bright, golden flames. Her figure stood tall, her arms outstretched as if to embrace the world, the flames flickering around her. Every detail seemed alive, as though the fire itself had been sculpted to embody her radiant form.

Ashe extended the statue toward Flynn. "This, Your Highness, is the Sun Goddess in her full glory. Crafted over months, molded from flame itself." The golden flames danced along the statue’s edges but did not burn, their warmth subtle and contained. "For you."

After Flynn had taken the gift, Ashe reached into their sack once more, withdrawing a second statue—this one the depiction of Seluna, the Moon Goddess. The flames that formed this statue were a cool, silvery blue, reflecting the soft glow of moonlight. The statue of Seluna stood serene, her ethereal presence captured in the quiet beauty of the moon's radiance, her flames delicate and calming, casting gentle shadows. Ashe offered the second statue to Amaya with the same reverence.

The Princess couldn’t help but be captivated in spite of the raging storm she contained. She watched as the blue embers made solid still seemed to move and dance within the body of the Goddess – mirroring the flickering of her own magic beneath her skin. Something she couldn’t name seemed to loosen within her as she stared at it. Outside of their small cocoon of warmth, the blizzard slowed, ever so slightly.

"And for you, Your Highness," Ashe began, their voice softening with a touch of nostalgia, "the Moon Goddess, in all her quiet power. I spent years in Lunaris, crafting garments for the royal court. While they never bore my name, they were worn by many at your family's gatherings."

Her gaze shifted, her pale blue eyes meeting their vibrant orange. Amaya’s mind spun through fragmented memories of balls and ceremonies that seemed a lifetime away.

Ashe paused for a moment, the flames within their molten eyes flickering with fond memories of the past before their transformation. "It took months to perfect this statue. I wanted to capture not just the image of Seluna but the serenity and strength our kingdom stands for. I hope she brings you comfort in these difficult times, as a symbol of both Lunaris’ resilience and the quiet power your family has always embodied."

As Ashe presented the silvery-blue statue of Seluna, there was a reverence in their movements—a reflection of their own history intertwined with Lunaris, now offering a piece of it to the Princess.

Amaya hesitated, her hands tightening around each other behind her back as water beaded on her skin. She glanced up at Flynn, as if for confirmation.

She used to be so much better at this – at playing the role of the demure Princess, all charming glances and coy smiles, every vulnerability hidden behind a straight, poised spine. But she supposed that version of herself had lived nearly her entire life contained to the castle grounds. That version had perfected control over her magic. That version still had a mother.

Ashe’s molten eyes flickered softly as they presented the statues, standing respectfully as they awaited the royals' reactions.

When they present us with gifts, Amaya heard in her mother’s voice, it isn’t really for us. It’s for them, so they can honor a part of their identity.

Making a decision, Amaya flexed her control over her buzzing, overwhelming magic. Then with a flick of her hands, she cast the droplets from her skin, into the growing pool of melted snow behind her. Her magic surged at the release, flooding towards this small outlet. But Amaya was ready, using her waning strength to plug the dam and hold it back - even if the storm surrounding them intensified for a brief moment.

As the air grew colder and Amaya’s magic surged, Ashe instinctively let more heat radiate from their form, gently pushing back against the growing storm as if balancing her power. The snowflakes melted before reaching the ground, evaporating into faint tendrils of steam. Ashe could feel the strain of maintaining their warmth at such intensity, but they remained composed, not letting their control waver. The warmth extended toward both Amaya and Flynn, offering them a buffer against the cold without overwhelming them.

Before more water could pool against her dry hands, Amaya brought them forward to accept the statue. It was surprisingly light for something that spanned the length of her torso – and warm. Amaya felt the moisture in the air trying to pull towards her, only to be repelled by the statue’s heat. The colors flickered within, shades of blue and pearl mixing together in a swirling current. The dancing glow rippled onto her skin like moonlight off a lake as she looked back up at Ashe, lips parted.
Ashe’s molten eyes flickered softly, observing the royal couple’s reactions to the statues with the practised eye of a merchant. Amaya’s hesitation melted away as she accepted the statue of Seluna, the glowing flames reflecting moonlight onto her skin. Flynn’s expression, however, was more complicated. His gaze lingered on the radiant statue of Aelios, his fingers tracing the golden flames with a mix of awe and restraint. Ashe watched carefully, noting every subtle shift in their posture, their expressions, gauging the effect their work had on these two powerful figures. The reactions were telling—Amaya’s initial apprehension softening into admiration, while Flynn’s neutrality masked something deeper.
Before Flynn could fully process his thoughts, a loud gasp from behind startled him.

ASHE!

Amaya flinched. She shifted closer to Flynn unconsciously, their arms brushing as her hold over her magic strained.

Flynn turned to see Eris, the sage of Dawnhaven, approaching quickly, draped in a fiery coat of ember threads—the very same kind of intricate weaving that seemed to hold together the Goddess of flame he now held in his hands.

Amaya’s eyes widened as Eris entered their bubble of warmth. Her pulse began to spike, because no no no, absolutely not. It was bad enough that Flynn had seen her lose control of her magic when he could barely cast. She could not lose her grip in front of his Lead Sage.

“Did you make those too?!” Eris asked with wide-eyed excitement, her gaze darting between the statues Flynn and Amaya held. She turned to Flynn, striking a pose to show off her flaming coat. “Look!” she exclaimed, twirling slightly. “This—Ashe made this too! Isn’t it the most incredible item you’ve ever seen, Flynn?”

The Prince’s name slipped out before Eris even realized what she had done. Her eyes widened, and a flush of embarrassment quickly crept up her cheeks. She stammered, suddenly flustered. “Er—I—Your Highness, I mean,” she corrected herself, her voice faltering as she cast a nervous glance between Flynn and Amaya and bowed her head to them respectfully, mentally kicking herself for the formality slip-up.

Amaya’s fingers tightened around the statue, as she felt a sharp pang of… sadness? Envy? Self consciousness? It was hard to identify, just another ache added to this awful day. She returned Eris’ bow with a small nod as she desperately wished for Elara.

Surprised, Ashe’s eyes flicked briefly toward the source, finding Eris hurrying toward them, draped in the fiery coat they had crafted. The enthusiasm in her voice was unmistakable as she twirled, showing off the glowing garment. Ashe offered her a polite bow of acknowledgement, but they kept their primary focus on the Prince and Princess—after all, this moment was for them. Eris's excitement was infectious, and though Ashe appreciated her words, the royalty before them remained the priority.

Flynn blinked, taking a moment to study the coat, unphased by Eris’s familiarity. His eyes briefly shifted from Eris to the coat, its embers dancing yet causing no harm to her. It was incredible, just as Eris had said. There was no denying Ashe’s talent.

"I see my work is already making an impression," Ashe said with a faint smile, acknowledging Eris's enthusiasm but keeping their tone measured, still aware of the formality of the situation. When Flynn’s gaze returned to them, Ashe’s attention locked onto the Prince’s expression.

For a moment, Flynn's gaze lingered on Eris's coat, appreciating its craftsmanship. But then his eyes returned to the face of Aelios—the Goddess who had sentenced him to death. He couldn’t help but to think that every day from now on, he would have to look at this reminder—a cruel joke cloaked in beauty.

His expression remained neutral, though his mind buzzed. The statue was undeniably beautiful, an exquisite creation that radiated warmth both physically and emotionally. Glancing over at Amaya, who was now holding the cool, silvery-blue statue of Seluna, Flynn wondered if she too felt as awkward as he did with this new constant reminder of their fate.

Holding Aelios closer, letting its heat seep into his fingers, Flynn met Ashe’s gaze again. “Thank you, truly,” Flynn said, his voice genuine. “I’ve never received anything so thoughtful before. This is… remarkable. You seem to be quite the craftsman.”

"No, I thank you, Your Highness," Ashe replied, their voice deep and steady. "Your words are gracious, and I am honored by them." There was a clear note of pride in Ashe’s tone, knowing their work had struck a chord with the prince.

"As for my craft...my family has served as tailors for the court of Lunaris for generations, and I have been perfecting my craft for longer than you've been alive, Your Highness." Ashe’s molten eyes flickered with a mix of nostalgia, satisfaction and pride, their words carrying the weight of years of experience. "Even in this new form, I hold onto that legacy through my creations and strive to improve upon in."

Ashe’s gaze shifted to Amaya, their eyes glowing softly in the cold air. "And you, Your Highness? What do you think? Might this be to Your Highness’s satisfaction?" Their voice was respectful, but there was a quiet confidence in the way they asked, genuinely interested in the Princess's thoughts on their work.

Amaya blinked up at Ashe, caught off guard at being asked directly. She looked down at the statue of Seluna, the roiling color and rippling glow. Then something clicked into place:

A desperate need to not be here.

Amaya flexed old muscles, atrophied in the two months she’d spent away from the capital.

Her expression melted into a soft smile, stained with just enough exhaustion to seem genuine as she looked back up at them. Her heart still thundered in her chest. Her magic still threatened to tear its way out of her body.

“Your work speaks for itself.” It was the first thing she’d said since her mother’s eulogy. It was soft, but she thanked the moon that it didn’t sound as strained as she felt. “I’m sure we’ll see more of your craftsmanship throughout Dawnhaven soon. Thank you for the gift.”

An answer that was not an answer. A smile that was not hers. Amaya could do nothing but rely on muscle memory as she fought to keep her composure.

“But you all must forgive me,” she said, glancing at the other faces present. “I’m afraid I must excuse myself – it’s been a full day already, and it’s made me awful company.” She turned her attention to Flynn, with possibly the least hostile look she’d ever given him. “I’ll see myself to the cabin.” Turning back to Ashe, she gave them a polite nod. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” In a blizzard. After the proclamation of her mother’s death. While in the midst of several different types of breakdowns. As her talkative husband carried on with them like Amaya hadn’t been on the verge of freezing herself solid.

Ashe offered a respectful nod, molten eyes flickering with understanding. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Your Highness. I appreciate your words and understand that you’ve had quite a full day. I hope the statue brings you some comfort in these difficult times."

Amaya didn’t respond, instead giving Eris another nod. “Sage Hightower.”

She stepped away from the group, her nerves balancing on a razor’s edge beneath her careful poise.

As Amaya excused herself, half of the guards began to break off from their positions, following her steps to ensure her protection as she made her way to the cabin. Flynn stood frozen for a moment, his eyes darting between Amaya, Ashe, and Eris.

"Ah—" he stammered, the urgency of the situation finally catching up to him. He cleared his throat, turning to Ashe and Eris. "I, uhm… I must take my leave as well. Ashe, thank you again for the gifts. I’ll arrange your interview soon." Flynn’s gaze briefly flicked over to Eris, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I’m glad you seem to have made a new friend, Miss Hightower."

Without waiting for further reply, Flynn hurried off, the radiant Aelios statue held close in his hands.

Ashe turned their attention back to Flynn even as he was leaving, giving him a steady gaze. "Thank you again, Your Highness. I am at your disposal whenever you’re ready to arrange the interview."

Eris stood still, watching as Flynn and Amaya retreated into the swirling snow with their entourage of guards. The abruptness of their departure left her feeling momentarily out of place. Her gaze followed them as they disappeared into the snow, Eris’s mind running with ideas about how Amaya was currently feeling. Of course, Eris couldn’t know, but she could empathise. The Princess had been quiet since they had arrived in Dawnhaven, but Eris didn’t blame her—especially now.

Recalling Flynn’s comment, Eris began to smile. A friend? A blight-born friend?It felt too early to say. She had only just met Ashe, after all, but there was a certain comfort in their presence, despite the fiery blight-born’s intimidating appearance. Their calm demeanour, their ability to create such incredible works of art, and Eris’s thirst for knowledge had certainly helped ease her initial nerves.

“Those statues were extraordinary." Eris said softly, turning towards Ashe. “I’m sure the Prince and Princess will cherish them.” She paused, taking a moment to view the growing storm beyond the comfort of Ashe’s warmth. "I should get inside too. This warmth of yours is wonderful, but I don’t want to be a bother."

Once the royals had taken their leave, Ashe turned their attention toward Eris, a small smile crossing their lips at her compliment. "I do hope they cherish them, and with this storm out here? I can hold out the heat for days." they replied, molten eyes glowing softly as they watched the swirling storm outside the warmth of their flame.

With a final nod and a soft smile, Eris turned to leave, feeling the cold bite at her skin the moment she exited the warm pocket of air Ashe provided. “I’ll make sure to give this back to you—someday.” She called back to him, her smile turning into a mischievous smirk. “You might just have to pry it from my hands though!” she said playfully before turning back on her path, hugging the treasured coat closer to her body.

As Eris began to walk away, Ashe let out a warm laugh at her playful remark. "Pry it from your hands, eh? Well, I could always just melt them off." Their voice held a teasing edge as they watched her disappear into the snowy night, the fiery coat still wrapped tightly around her form.

As Eris walked, her thoughts lingered on the Aelios statue Flynn had been gifted. How much would a statue like that cost if she asked Ashe to make another? The idea swirled in her mind, a small thrill of excitement settling in her chest as she thought of all the places she could put it in her own home.

"Take care, Eris. Stay warm." Ashe called after her, their eyes following her retreating figure until she was lost in the flurries.

As Eris disappeared into the distance, Ashe stood for a moment, allowing the cold to swirl around them before turning on their heel. Their eyes scanned the town of Dawnhaven, the snow continuing to fall heavily, but the heat radiating from their body melted it before it could land.
With a purposeful stride, Ashe began making their way toward Emberweaver, the house they had claimed and would soon transform into a workshop. As they walked, the flickering glow of their flames illuminated the path ahead, casting soft light on the surrounding snow that was melting as they passed. The idea of setting up shop here in Dawnhaven filled Ashe with anticipation.
"Time to get some work done." they muttered to themselves, the weight of the day's events fading into the background as their focus shifted to the future—crafting, creating, and making their mark on this town. The familiar warmth of the ember threads they would soon spin into new creations lingered in their thoughts as they neared the door to their new home, ready to dive back into their craft.

Mentions: @The Muse's Eris and Prince Flynn & @c3p-0h’s Amaya


Dawnhaven’s Town Square

A Fiery Gathering

Business & Pleasure






Ashe’s gaze softened, a kind smile crossing their lips as they responded to Eris’s echo of their words. "Made by my own flames, yes. Woven from the fire itself." They nodded slightly, feeling a flicker of satisfaction at her wonder.

Watching her take the bracelet, Ashe couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. It was a moment familiar to any artisan—seeing their creation admired and appreciated. Their smile widened, and a glint of happiness danced in their molten eyes as Eris carefully examined the fiery accessory.

As she marvelled at the bracelet, Ashe tilted their head slightly, their expression thoughtful. "I must admit, it’s not entirely kindness at play here," they began, their voice warm but sincere.

"On one hand, I want to reward your bravery as I said. Most people wouldn’t come this close to me for obvious reasons. But on the other hand... I’m new to Dawnhaven. I need people wearing my creations, spreading the word. It’s good for business." Their smile softened as they reassured her, "But yes, I’m sure. Consider it my first ‘investment’ in this town."

At Eris’s remark about making a fortune in Aurelia, Ashe chuckled, the sound deep and rich like logs cracking in a fire. "Ah, I used to make a fortune long before I was reborn as a Blight-born. My craft was well-known back then, and it will be again, that’s for sure." They nodded, a confident spark lighting their eyes. "One day, people from Aurelia will come all the way to Dawnhaven to buy from me."

When Eris suddenly realised her lack of introduction, Ashe gave her a kind, understanding bow. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eris, Lead Sage of Dawnhaven." They straightened up with a welcoming smile. "Once my shop is set up, I think you and I will need to have a chat. I have a few questions about your work, and no doubt some things I’ll need answers for."





Mentions: @The Muse's Eris

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Ashe observed the group's heated discussion with a bemused chuckle.

"Fyr, calm down. We'll track down whatever that scoundrel stole from us and make him regret it. And Dallious, you’re right—thanks to us, you’re all free now. There’s no need to worry; I guarantee things will work out in the end. As for my mask, it stays on. Always." Her voice carried its usual charm, smoothing over the tension.

Turning to Arthur, Ashe nodded and said, "You heard correctly. The book belonged to Gwyn, and Cicero was a companion who saved me from a dangerous fall with those same slavers. I don’t forget a debt. We will find them. As for the book, I’m not sure of Gwyn’s full power, but I doubt it’s anything too formidable."

She stepped forward and drew out her dice, tossing them into the air. Both landed on 10-10, the highest possible roll.

"Ha! Just as I expected. I might not know exactly where the wizard took Gwyn and Cicero, but I have a lead. We’ll need to head to my homeland, the Isles. If we’re fortunate, we can not only find the information we need but also reconnect with my old teachers. They’re skilled in many arts, known and unknown." Her voice grew more confident with each word.

"Even if you decide not to join me, that’s where I’m headed. It’s time to settle some scores—personal and otherwise." With that, she began to walk away, her resolve clear.






Samara took a shaky breath, her hands nervously fidgeting with the strap of her bag. "Look, Ashe, I know I haven’t been with you all for long, and I was just trying to do a job, bring you to the village. But this... everything that's happened—it’s too much. I’m just a merchant. I’m not a fighter, and I’m definitely not made for whatever this is turning into.” She paused, her eyes darting around the group, guilt settling in her chest. “I had to kill someone, and... I can’t shake it. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep going with you."

Her voice trembled slightly as she continued, "You’ve got your mission, and I respect that. But I need to go back to what I know—trading, traveling, selling goods. This world of assassins and stolen heirlooms, it’s not mine. I hope you find what you’re after, but I need to part ways here. I just... need to get back to some kind of normal." Samara gave them a weak smile, a final nod, before she turned, the weight of her decision settling in as she began to walk away from the group.

She then stopped and turned back, looking at Arthur, her expression apologetic. "Arthur, if you decide to stay with them... I'm sorry. I know we’ve only just met, but I really thought this would be easier. If you do stay, I hope you can forgive me for backing out now. You’re strong—you’ll be fine with them. I'll look for someone to sell me a camel, find me in the village if you don't go with them. " Samara offered one last nod before turning away, her steps quicker now as she made her way toward the village, already thinking
Dawnhaven’s Temple Of Selune

The Chosen One Arrives

The Sermon begins


Lysander walked into Dawnhaven with a sense of purpose, his violet eyes scanning the area briefly before he moved forward. His robe of deep purple linen flowed around him, falling gracefully to his heels, catching the light in a way that made it shimmer as though woven from the night sky itself. A silver necklace adorned his chest, bearing the unmistakable crescent moon of Seluna, a symbol of devotion that now carried far more weight than it had in his past.

He didn’t stop to take in the crowded town square where most of the townspeople had gathered, their attention focused elsewhere. His destination was clear—the Temple of Seluna.

He moved with purpose, his feet leading him to the waters that bordered the sacred space. The exterior of the temple was made out of dark wood, almost blending into the forest, save for the warm glow of lanterns. The cool air hummed with a sense of peace, and as Lysander crossed the narrow bridge toward the temple, his heart swelled with the conviction of his divine purpose.

The temple’s sanctum was quiet, save for a few faithful who lingered near the moon pool at the heart of the holy place. A large open dome above allowed the glow of the crescent moon to filter through, casting a soft light upon the waters. The woodwork was warm with carvings of the moon’s phases adorning the walls.

Lysander’s arrival was swift, his steps reverberating through the hollowed chamber as the few believers turned to look at him. His eyes shone with purpose, and without hesitation, he made his way toward the moon pool, its cool waters glistening in the moonlight. The believers stared, wide-eyed, as if they had been waiting for something, or someone or so Lysander believed. He raised his hands, his voice ringing through the silent space, pulling their attention to him with effortless charisma, priming his emotional control powers as he spoke.

"Rejoice, faithful of Seluna! For the time of darkness has passed, and the chosen of the Moon Goddess has arrived in your midst!" His voice, melodic and touched with an eerie resonance, filled the temple.

"Through her divine will, I have been sent to guide you, to lead you from despair. I am her vessel, her chosen. The one that will show you the gifts which Seluna bestows upon us all!" Lysander’s eyes gleamed with intensity as he continued, every word calculated to inspire devotion.

"Seluna has not forgotten you, her light shines upon us even in this dark time. Her grace will save us all."

The believers, though few in number, watched in awe, their murmurs rising as they processed the words of this self-proclaimed chosen. Lysander lowered his hands, letting the silence fill the air once again, his eyes scanning the room for signs of doubt or resistance. But for now, there was none. His arrival had sparked hope where there had been little, and that was all he needed to begin.


Dawnhaven’s Town Square

A Fiery Gathering

Between Flame and Fear






" Ah, please forgive me if I’ve been too forward," Ashe said with a warm, flickering smile. "I merely made a jest to lighten the mood. I understand it can be a bit overwhelming to be near someone like me." as they said “lighten” their flames lit up for a brief second as if responding to their command.

Ashe took a moment to explain the garment’s nature, their hands gently tracing the coat’s intricate patterns as they spoke. "This coat," they continued, "is woven from threads of fire, each strand spun from my own flames. The heat you feel is part of their nature. It’s not magic but a physical manifestation of my gift. The flame threads are designed to provide warmth without burning—though it might seem counterintuitive seeing that this is fire, it’s all about balance and control."

Ashe’s hand moved gracefully, and with a focused effort, they plucked a strand of fire from their own form. The flame danced gently between their fingers, taking shape as they wove it into a delicate bracelet. The flame’s warmth was evident but not overwhelming.

"Here," Ashe said, extending the newly crafted bracelet toward Eris. "Consider this a gift, curiosity should always be rewarded. I hope it serves as a small comfort and as well, a sign of my appreciation for your bravery in talking with one of my kind. Also, please, wear the coat, the cold won’t affect me. I only wear it to show my future merchandise."





Mentions: @The Muse's Eris
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Dawnhaven - Town Square

A Fiery Gathering

Between Flame and Fear


Ashe felt the warmth of their own flames radiating outward, the familiar sensation almost forgotten in the crowd’s press. They hadn’t noticed Eris until her words cut through the murmurs around them. Turning their head, molten eyes flickered toward her, studying the small figure braving the proximity of their heat.

The moment their gaze locked onto hers, Ashe offered a smile—a brief flash of amusement mixed with the glow of embers beneath their skin. They recognized the tension in her stance, the slight hesitation, but admired her resolve to stay put.

"You’ve make a good point," Ashe said, their voice rumbling low and rough like a log breaking apart in a smouldering fire. "I’m probably to be the hottest thing in Dawnhaven, and that’s saying something considering the people in this crowd." They winked, a teasing edge to their words, though their smile softened as they spoke.

Seeing the nervousness behind her brave facade, Ashe allowed their internal flame to dim slightly, controlling the heat to make the surrounding air more bearable. The press of the crowd seemed to ease as people instinctively shifted closer, now less wary of standing near the living furnace.

With a graceful motion, they gave Eris a small, respectful bow. "Apologies if I was a bit too much. Sometimes I forget not everyone likes being roasted alive." There was a flicker of humour in their words, but beneath it, a genuine acknowledgment of her bravery.

Then, without hesitation, they unclasped the shimmering coat they wore—a radiant piece crafted entirely from threads of fire. The strands pulsed with a warm, fiery glow, a deep orange flame woven intricately into the shape of a garment. They held it out toward Eris, the heat from it comforting but controlled.

"Here," Ashe offered with a nod, extending the blazing coat to her. "It’s woven from flame, but it won’t burn you. It'll keep you warm, better than anything else in this cold place. I don’t mind the cold, but you look like you could use it more than I do right now. Consider it a temporary loan."

They met her gaze, their eyes glowing faintly as they introduced themselves, their voice smoothing into a more formal tone. "Ashe Emberweave, at your service. I’m new around here, just setting up shop in Dawnhaven." The flicker of a smile returned, softening their otherwise intense presence.





Mentions: @The Muse's Eris

Dawnhaven - Town Square

A Fiery Gathering

An ember in the crowd


Ashe stepped out of the bathhouse and walked with purpose, their form still radiating residual warmth from the hot springs as they made their way to the half-built shop they'd claimed as their own. The structure loomed just ahead—a large, nearly finished building that would soon serve as their storefront. However, with stone slabs missing and window frames bare, it still had a way to go before it would become a proper shop. For now, it served as storage and a quiet place to keep their things.

Once inside, Ashe took a moment to check the space. The moonlight filtered through the gaps in the walls, illuminating their belongings—carefully organised, though minimal. The bag they sought lay among a few other possessions, tucked away in a corner. They knelt, quickly rummaging through their things to ensure everything was still in place: supplies, notes, a few pieces of fabric, and most importantly, the two small statues of the goddesses—their gifts for the prince and princess. They wrapped the delicate figures in soft cloth before slipping them into the bag. Satisfied, Ashe stood up, slinging the bag over their shoulder.

It was time to head toward the town square.

Ashe’s footsteps quickened as they made their way toward the town square, the low hum of voices growing louder with each step, the crowd already thickening as townsfolk made their way toward the hastily constructed stage. The Aurelian and Lunarian guards were already in position, their gleaming armour reflecting the moonlight as they stood vigil beside the wooden platform. The sight of the two factions standing side by side made the gravity of the event feel even bigger than before.

The square was filling up fast, and Ashe needed to get closer. As they approached, they felt the press of bodies, the murmurs of anticipation. Without hesitation, they let their inner flame flare gently, increasing the heat around them. It wasn’t an aggressive move—just enough to make the air around them warmer, like standing too close to a fire on a cold night.

People in the crowd began to shift uncomfortably, some stepping aside as the heat became noticeable. No one wanted to be near the walking furnace, especially not when pressed together in such close quarters. Ashe moved steadily forward, using the natural discomfort to clear a path without confrontation, feeling the shuffling bodies make way as they edged closer to the stage.

Eventually, they found themselves near the front, just within the acceptable distance the guards allowed. Their eyes, reflecting the moon's glow, focused on the empty stage ahead, their bag held securely by their side.

Despite the tension hanging in the square, Ashe found a small sense of peace. Here, at the front of the gathering, with the cool night air mixing with their carefully controlled warmth, they felt like an ember among the townspeople—quiet but glowing, waiting for the spark that would set everything into motion.

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