[i]I’m not safe for you.[/i] Narda raised her brows and looked at Daryll. ‘Interesting’, the scholar mouthed. Was her situation similar to that of the camp of potential fire-wielders of the forest-town? Though given the mother’s bruise, perhaps it was something else. The mayor’s description of ‘queer’ now made more sense, though whether or not his accompanying accusation about her being the source of the sleepiness was another matter. They kept silent, watchful as Ysaryn attempted to coax the woman out of her seclusion, with Narda grunting in agreement at the elf’s assertion that nothing about the woman would frighten them. They weren’t being attacked yet, so Narda assumed that whatever the girl was capable of, she only unleashed it as a means to defend herself. If she knew how to control it. Judging by her behavior, she did not. 

The Amrians looked around at Lyta’s room, wondering if the mess was her doing. While Narda looked with pity at Lyta, concerned at all the blood from her injured foot and from the state of her, Daryll only gaped in wonder for a few moments. [i]It’s her.[/i] Like seeing something step straight out of a dream. “It’s you…” he murmured, stepping forward even as Ysaryn did—and almost got himself turned into a pincushion for the glass shards. Narda had grabbed him by the collar, yanking him back as she shielded herself with her other arm. 
“You both alright?” Narda asked, brushing the shards from her cloak. She turned to Lyta. “You have nothing to apologize for. But if you keep yourself cooped up in here, you won’t learn to control—whatever that is. You’ll keep apologizing your whole life. Which,” she added, gesturing around her, “doesn’t seem to be much, as it stands.”
“That is magic. It can be a wonderful thing,” Daryll said. “I—think we were sent here to get you for a reason. I don’t put stock in fate or gods or the like, but know that we’ll be your best chance. This isn’t a punishment, we promise.” 

Narda extended a hand. “Come with us. Like Ysaryn said, we’ve faced many great threats.” She grinned. “And if you come, you’ll meet the Empress herself.”
Daryll still stared at her, fascinated. He wanted to ask her if she had seen him before, if there was some sign of familiarity. But she was clearly not yet in the proper state to be interrogated about visions and prophecies. So instead he took a couple of careful steps forward, hands raised. He fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and extended it to her. 

--

Kire watched as the strange scene unfolded before her eyes. The dragon, the light, and the gate. Always these three. It seemed to her then that she was caught between two gods, and as she saw the earth that cradled the falling star turn to sand, fear settled in her heart. She coughed at the hot, scorched air that filled her lungs, sinking onto her knees until the vision faded completely. She dug her fingers into the soil, breathed in the smells of the forest. [i]And no sign of Envy.[/i] This….what was she to do with this? At least even in exile, her mission was clear: defeat Ikegai, regain her honor by taking the throne back. In all her other struggles, the goal was solid and sharp in her mind, and the sword of her Will knew what to do, where to cut. But this? “[i]I don’t know what to do[/i],” she said in a whisper, and hearing herself say it out loud deepened that fear in her heart. 

Standing up again, Kire looked around her, hoping for some other sign, some other voice, [i]anything[/i] that would help point the way forward. But she knew there wouldn’t be any. She rubbed her Ringless finger again, the absence of the jewel reflecting the uncertainty that weighed heavily on her mind. Now she had to walk out of the forest, to Ruli who had lost his foster father, and to her own people, now seemingly beholden to some unknown, omnipotent presence. She may have the crown again, but it felt more useless than ever. But she was Empress. And, whether she felt it in her heart or not, Kire had to go back out there and show them she knew what she was doing. 

“I don’t know what you want,” she said, looking ahead of her. “Help me understand. You speak to my people now. And I am loyal to my people. I want what is best for them, and—and if this is what you want as well, then help me see it. But I need my friend back.” She frowned, the next word sitting heavy on her tongue. “Please. What do I need to do in exchange? Show me.” She let the silence hang in the air for a few moments before she sighed and turned around, feeling very much like a dog retreating with its tail between its legs. As stubborn as Kire was, she knew there was no other recourse, for now.

When she stepped outside, she still wore a frown on her face. She looked at Ruli, debating between words of comfort or being Empress now. She glanced at the villagers, then back at him. [i]Just say it.[/i] Comfort could wait; what he needs, what they all need, were actions. “I can’t trace him,” she said. “But I’m not giving up.” She turned to the villagers. “She speaks to you, doesn’t she? Is she—” she gestured vaguely behind her, at the forest, “—is she asking you to worship her? Is she your patron god now?”

The villagers looked at each other. The man who had spoken up earlier said, “We—we’re not sure. But. We wish to understand, Your Grace. And for that, we wish only for the freedom to commune with her, to see why she bestowed these gifts to us. Right now, she wishes that the forest be treated as holy ground.”

Kire looked at the forest again, and then at Ruli. “If I do that, will we have our friend back?” she asked them. 
“I truly don’t know, Your Grace. But if this is what you have thought of in your heart, then maybe She is speaking to you, too. I—we know it is a lot to ask, especially for lowly people like myself, to an Empress like you.” He placed his hand over his heart. “We feel she will keep your friend safe. We can’t explain it but—we have faith.”
“Faith.” Kire tried not to scoff aloud at the word. She took a deep breath. “Give me time to think about it. I need to confer with my—I need to think it over. But you would have to come with me, and stay in the camp with your other fellow villagers until you have my answer. So much as a spark is lit in attack, however, and you will be cut down, no questions,” she said. The villagers nodded. 

Gavin had returned with Myka and reinforcements, and after Kire explained the conditions, the villagers were escorted back to the camp. Kire remained at the edge of forest. Once she was alone with Ruli, she turned to him, swallowing the urge to reach out and hold him. “I’m sorry.”