[h2]Talderia[/h2]

"Nobody stays dead here, that's not all that special. Tyaethe's killed Ed at least a dozen times," Florian supplied, shrugging before patting the disappointed and pouting Randon on the head.

"Your words suggest that you are not [i]copies[/i], or... whatever much of the population here is," the prince added as a shadow passed overhead, "If you were, then you would undeniably know this. Nor would it be likely that the chance to leave would be held in front of your face, nobody has ever been offered such a thing."

Once again, a shadow briefly passed over and, if someone were to look up, they would see a shammer of red-gold--

Before the ground shook under the weight of a dragon landing before them, its position visibly awkward for some seconds as it adjusted to one more comfortable that still avoided crushing the gardens. Or any of those present, for that matter. Quite unlike the usual presence of a dragon in a populated area, there wasn't a panic, or anyone reaching for their weapons--Prince Erion was even smiling slightly at Thrinax's arrival.

[b]"Erion is correct. None in this place with an analogue in the world proper have [i]ever[/i] been without an awareness of whatever their original self is experiencing,"[/b] the dragon stated, the bassy rumble of his voice an odd contrast to the perfect, [i]modern[/i] accent of Aimlenn, [b]"I can tell you that it is, for example, raining across southwest Ithillin."[/b]

Thrinax leant forward, breath [i]uncomfortably[/i] warm as he inspected the assembled knights. [b]"Disappointing. If you wish to leave, you will improve; I know not what your second obstacle will be, but I shall be the last."[/b]

[hr]

While the journey to the city had uncovered some important information--two thirds of their obstacles, along with the regular occurrence of festivals--it couldn't be considered entirely good news. Prince Erion's retinue might not have the individual prestige of the Iron Roses' forebears, but it [i]was[/i] a group renowned for its teamwork and managing to form enough of an armed force on its own to contain Talderia's initial destruction.

And the less said about "we have to defeat a dragon", the better. At least it wasn't Volkstraad.

The information available within Candaeln was [i]less[/i] useful for any immediate plans to leave, although Lilette could not only confirm the information about the nature of those living here in detail, she also had some understanding of the nature of its inhabitants. That was, as far as she or any other healer, or even random scholars, could tell, everyone was [i]physically[/i] identical to some point in their life, even if their memories carried on until death. But on the spiritual level... in many regards, it looked and acted like a soul, yet it undeniably wasn't [i]quite[/i] a duplicate--and the slight texturing to any mana used by the place's inhabitants showed that there was some other influence.

General diagnostics in that regard indicated that everyone there should have been wasting away and dying rapidly, though, so maybe it was for the best they were confined here.

The one thing the scholars [i]could[/i] agree on was that even if the 'how' wasn't clear, there were plentiful theories that were all possible under the auspices of normal magic--nothing Merilia was displaying was witchcraft in and of itself. Except, of course, the utter [i]scale[/i] of the place. That had to involve something else... but they hadn't answered that question in thousands of years, it wasn't likely to end any time soon.

Still, at least the knights were willing to train them. Or the rather grumpy-seeming one-armed rabbit that had taken up a room nearby.