[center]The Crystalline Chamber was a little known construct beneath the Vaaldian Palace, wrought of countless Runes and Words that Crosos Granz could never see but always [i]feel[/i]. There was something within the mirrored surface that carried an air of whispering lips lingering just beyond a tattered veil. There were few uses for a room such as this; rarely did those who possessed power to necessitate its unsealing live to see the hauntingly reflective Crystalline Chamber shiver to life with the lingering essence of Mages centuries-dead. It was what he had expected, but not what he had wanted for Elise. She deserved better than this place and its golden chains. Better than the cold reflection it presented to the interred; the cold meditation or madness it would demand of them. Twice in the forty nine years of his life had this room been unsealed by those few Mages who knew of its existence; those practiced in the same whispers that composed the place. Once, it had been used to contain his creator. Now it contained one of his components. Guilt always came with seeing Elise, even in the best conditions, knowing that she had sacrificed part of herself to aid in his creation. Of course, he would always remind himself, his creation was necessary. What he had originally been created to do was [i]necessary[/i], despite its momentary nature. What he was, however, did not feel as though it had been in his creators' plans. Perhaps that was the point. Having a soul was not something that Golems were often gifted with. Crosos Granz may have been a momentary plan that lingered well beyond his usefulness...far beyond his crowning moment. [color=FFA500]"You're terrifying as always, Granz,"[/color] the emaciated form of the Silver Glint said with a voice surprisingly lucid, drawing him from sad recollection, [color=FFA500]"but even your visage is welcome when it obscures my own."[/color] She was one of the few who would indulge Crosos Granz's grim humor, even if it reached the self-depreciating realms that were so close to truth. This was one of many things that had made kin of the Silver Glint and the Golem Knight. He offered a lopsided grin, though Granz wished he had the capacity to force a frown; there was little warmth in this place...and Elise's condition made the Golem mildly uncomfortable. [color=FFA500]"You're always staring..."[/color] she sounded somewhat sad, tilting her head to obscure her face behind a veil of white hair, [color=FFA500]"even though most in Aedrasil have you outnumbered..."[/color] That was enough to draw a laugh from him, even though there was a mounting discomfort in it...a tension. Elise laughed along, far less hollow, though she did not reveal her eyes to him, again. In truth, he was staring; struggling still with his guilt...the overwhelming sea that came with seeing. Serpera had been right. Coming here would do nothing but cause harm to the Golem. He had none of it, though, arguing vehemently until the Councilor had relented. The mention of the Crystalline Chamber had stalled him, but there was little on Aedrasil that could deter a determined Golem. [color=778899]"And you're always hiding your face. It's unsightly, Elise."[/color] It was the best he could do to return her good nature, the sincerity in his voice a mockery of truth, [color=778899]"I..."[/color] he lowered his head, as if in prayer, [color=778899]"am sorry that only I am able to come."[/color] Many of the Unsung Heroes were dead, their time of glory only lasting a short while after Kanys' death. Two of eight remained, if his count remained current, and three if you were to count Elise among them; which Crosos did currently not. Awaiting death and dead were interchangeable in his book. [color=778899]"Seralle of the Shadowed Countenance,"[/color] this elicited a snicker from Elise, who swayed slightly within her bonds, [color=778899]"and the Firebrand have had no contact with the Vaunted Council in some time."[/color] [color=FFA500]"Of course...I would not travel so far, and open old wounds, just to see a friend executed."[/color] Eyes peered out to him from between slightly-parted locks, silver halos amidst a field of snow. They were feverish, simultaneously complacent, but aware and focused on the Golem. [color=778899]"Nor would I; though it seems by some ill fortune I am to have a better view than any but yourself."[/color] Her lips trembled for a moment, her breathing growing deep without an increase in rapidity; though he could not tell from what. Tears formed on the edges of half-hidden eyes and Elise seemed to bite back something, twitching slightly somewhere that set her whole frame into a barely perceived motion. [color=FFA500]"Tell them that I love them, when you see them, Granz. Please, do me that mercy. If I can not tell them, I must pass that burden onto you...who I love as much as any of the Unsung."[/color] His heart rent in two, but he did not speak. Crosos Granz had not the strength for utterances, only the strength to accept a last wish. [color=7CFC00]- - - - - -[/color] [color=FFDAB9]"Don't consider yourself honored, just yet, Dodger,"[/color] Isyph Al-Delad said with a derision pointed at her own heart, [color=FFDAB9]"I've done nothing to honor anyone, you or myself. If anything, I'm a fool girl for singing my songs in an alleyway instead of on the streets and an irregular fool at that..."[/color] She thought back to the day's events and quietly despaired that the Lunar Festival had yet to begin. That would put the thought of failure from her mind. [color=FFDAB9]"I don't plan to be here, next year,"[/color] it was a thoughtless admission, but one that was strangely poignant to her, one that demanded further release, [color=FFDAB9]"I'll probably be a merchant, around this time next year. That is, if there isn't a Guild that...takes..."[/color] Somewhere along the line, Isyph had shouted that Dodger was a genius and had darted off with a new goal in mind; weaving through crowds with a practiced ease. The busy streets, deep in their preparations, became more clogged as she moved along. [color=FFDAB9]"If that's what it takes, I'll take them all. I won't become a merchant, like my father. I'll become my own kind of professional. I won't go back to Silverbrook and I won't apologize."[/color] She spoke to herself, but figured that Dodger would hear if he happened to be following along. Honestly, Isyph hadn't glanced back since leaving the alley. [color=FFDAB9]"Why didn't anyone tell me that I could do this?!"[/color] Frustration spurred the Uquii girl into even hastier steps, toward the Guild Center. Earlier, she had been pointed to the building; but had decided instead on trying her luck with the Enlistment kiosks. It was a foolish move, but twilight had yet to fall upon them, and Isyph intended, fully, to correct the injustices afflicted on her by countless others. Snide comments, outright dismissal...all of it would be met with a smile, once she was atop Aedrasil; swimming in good fortune. All it would take was some paperwork, she hoped. Now, its shadow lingered over her; the simplicity of its boxy shape nearly laughable compared to the bizarre Guildhomes she had seen, earlier. The Guild Center was a place that saw many come and go with each day, their business brought here for review or approval...though Isyph didn't quite understand how most of it was sorted or handled. In fact, she doubted that even with a detailed explanation that she could fully grasp the expanse of the bureaucracy involved a Guild's daily activities. It was daunting, but not so much so that the Uquii girl would balk. Certainly she would have to accept a few extra responsibilities, but they were easily dismissed shadows in the light of a ripening opportunity. Irregulars, Dodger had said, earlier. The word had rolled through her mind a hundred times since, almost haunting her as the derision of her early foray into Guilds and their mysterious ways. Despite its negative connotations, there was something alluring to it that demanded she acknowledge it. [color=FFDAB9]"Irregulars,"[/color] she mumbled, placing her foot down on the first in a long series of steps to follow, [color=FFDAB9]"there are probably hundreds of irregulars in Vaald, alone."[/color] [color=7CFC00]- - - - - -[/color] Wraith was not used to interacting with people so often and becoming 'Lucia' had placed a large strain on her patience. The act was not simple to keep up, in front of the Aedrasilians; who would, still, on occasion pick up the slight strangeness in her accent. Three years had not been long enough to unravel the mysteries that had presented themselves; the largest of which Wraith considered to be the affliction which had been eating away at her people...the more tertiary being the nuances of Aedrasilian verbal communication. That had inspired her to include the stutter in her words, making Lucia seem as though she were naturally inclined to oddities of speech; perhaps even endearing her facade to some of the natives she dealt with. Their strange names and customs, however, were fascinating...but, unfortunately, were largely outside of what she allowed to be Lucia's purview. As such, as Lucia, she could not ask the question on her mind...nor simply turn the man aside. Instead she allowed herself to project a wan smile, as though she had not been listening carefully; as though Lucia's mind was somewhere filled with flowers and flowing streams, far from the city that surrounded her. The tattooed man smiled, the bizarre lines on his face twisting and contorting beyond their seemingly possible boundaries. [color=FF1493]"So-sorr-sorry, sir, I didn't hear you!"[/color] Lucia called out in a voice that Wraith found to be somewhat nasal, a world removed from her own surprisingly husky tones. [color=FF1493]"If you wouldn't mind repeating it, I'll make sure that it gets into the right hands!"[/color] He grinned more widely, showing filed teeth that may have elicited a more repulsed response than what Lucia gave and nodded. [color=DC143C]"I seen you with the masked Eclipse, moving smooth with they numbers. You one of them? Look to be, though looking not to be."[/color] She wondered if his simplified, off-kilter speech was the product of some unlucky bludgeoning or whether the man thought Lucia a dullard; or, if he saw something more than he would say. He looked down on her, expectantly, cocking a non-existent eyebrow...then, seeming to understand that she would not immediately reply, proffered further information; albeit crookedly. [color=DC143C]"I know a Scratch, down by the Pools. He on his way to slow sleep, but his feet got wind of where his heart be afraid."[/color] [i]That[/i] Lucia understood with perfect clarity. There was a Moonscratched, as the Deladish sometimes called the afflicted, by the Serene Pools; near the Palace. Given the tattooed man's words, she could only surmise that he meant that the afflicted was walking somewhere. [i]Why[/i] she could not understand, though she had seen the look that the tattooed man's words described. Lucia nodded and tried her best to look slightly off-put, then feigned regaining her composure. [color=FF1493]"Yes, I work with them from t-time to time. I can pass that information along, i-i-if you can give me more details. Who is the Scratch,"[/color] she rather liked that term, for some reason, [color=FF1493]"that you're talking about? What do they look like?"[/color] [color=DC143C]"Nameless and faceless is he, to me; know him by his raving, is all. Good night-sun's-wait to you."[/color] The bulky, absent eyebrowed, tattooed man before her began walking away; after offering a greasy smile. There was something so self-satisfied in the motion, in the smile, that made Lucia grin with her own smug amusement. Wraith had no intention of following the lead, by herself. There were others who would doubtlessly assist. Instead, she would find another to lend their hand to the acquisition of this Nameless Scratch. [color=FF1493]"Quite a fancy name,"[/color] she mumbled, though it sounded far more sincere when accompanied by Lucia's cheery tones, [color=FF1493]"and quite a bizarre informer. Was that man human? Surely not."[/color] While it appeared that Lucia fumbled with a small book, Wraith moved through the streets with purpose; avoiding coming so close to others that she would have to brush against them. Thankfully, there were some of the Order not too far from where she had been standing. Her original mission was to do just this, though it was but an excuse to idle about; after all, the Lunar Festival was at hand...and if last year was any indication, this year's spectacle would prove equally bloody. Truly, it was not the blood that excited her; but the idea that these people were willing to sacrifice themselves to avoid their reality. The Aedrasilian mind was certainly foreign to her, but so too were their problems. [color=FF1493]"Please find K, Wordan,"[/color] she said to a taller-than-most member of the Order of the Eclipse, smiling all the while, [color=FF1493]"I have something that he may be i-interested in!"[/color] Wordan shifted uncomfortably, having been recognized, and nodded. [color=FF1493]"I'll be waiting for him, here."[/color] The tall one moved with reluctance, but purpose; setting aside his sign, which Lucia took up instead...moving to be the only maskless member of the Order standing on that particular street. As people walked by, she would hold it higher; as though hope filled her with each passing person. [b]There is not only one answer[/b], it read.[/center]