[hr][hr][h1][b][i][center][color=pink]Cuyler Eysteinsson[/color][/center][/i][/b][/h1]
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[hr][center][color=pink]Location:[/color] The Palace Lawn [/center][hr]

He blew out a breath, looking over at Lyra. He remembered sitting around fires with her, well far from her after she tried cutting his finger off. Their fathers would take turns telling tales of the Land of Lost Nights, where they came from, how the gods came to be and how they created their lives. How people, descended from the gods themselves were more powerful than even the greatest Wizard, were born and came to walk among them all. 
[color=pink]”Baldur was a great god, loved most by all the gods so when he had children, they were no exception to that same love they held for him. But his daughter fell in love, with a human who possessed extraordinary abilities; a Wizard. Their union blessed them with four children, children who gained abilities that even the gods feared. The oldest, a daughter who commands chaos, a son who manipulates the heavens to his desire, the third a girl who adores animals and can travel to any of the nine realms in an instant.” [/color] At the mention of the third Cuyler’s eyes went to look at Lyra for a moment. His eyes drifted back to Ayra’s not very long after and he continued his tale. 
[color=pink]”And the youngest, with the gift to extend all of their lifespans, allowing them to have everlasting life, despite being half-human. If chaos is just beginning in the Castle, Halley won’t be far behind.”[/color] 
Cuyler believed in these myths, believed them deeply. They carried truth in every telling. True, over the years the tellings became more wild but the story remained the same. The Four would return to Earth and protect the people of the Castle, protect them all. It was surviving until that moment that was the problem. If they were truly involved, more death would undoubtedly follow. 
A great howl came through Cuyler’s thoughts and he frowned, turning his head to watch Thia jump up onto the stage. She barked once before turning and growled up at the sky. Cuyler knelt down, laying a hand on her back. Thia typically remained at bay in her day form, something must be amiss. There was a thundering sound and a great gust of unnatural wind. Cuyler looked up to see the sky black out for a moment before a dragon landed in their mists. 
[color=pink]”Is it another illusion?”[/color] Cuyler asked. His voice sounded small and soft compared to the great beast who now sat before them. A man slid off the back of the dragon, seeming to light a cigar of sorts before he looked around at the newly screaming crowd. 

[hr][hr][h1][b][i][center][color=#006400]Amarantha[/color][/center][/i][/b][/h1]
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[hr][center][color=#006400]Location:[/color] The Palace Lawn [/center][hr]

It all happened rather quickly. So quickly that Amarantha had to admit she was fairly impressed with the [b]Magykal[/b] being from the Snowplains. She had slid back on her heels, pulling out the dagger from her boot, ready to slice Malekith’s wrists for a quick way to drain his strength. The dark orb he released though, zoomed back and flung Malekith back where he quickly dropped and died in front of them. She cocked her head to the side. [i]What a shame.[/i] 
Her commander and master walked over then, shielding the body with his cloak. She turned her head, rolling her eyes to herself before sliding the knife back into her boot and stood. Everyone here had seen their fair share of death; including, that young apprentice. He spoke and walked like a kid from the streets and if Amarantha remembered anything from her time at the Port, it was that you may be able to take a child from the streets but you couldn’t take the streets from the child; even if you dressed him in wizard robes. 
She stood up and looked to Puck. [color=#006400]”We should move on the Port Witch Coven. They have most likely traveled back to their coven by now. If we hurry we may just catch them off guard.”[/color] Her prize was taken from her early and she was still itching to unleash her skill on someone or something. 
Her plans were shifted again when there was a great shift to the ground. A dragon rose up before them, much more real than the illusion casted previously. Amarantha shifted back, taking the dragon at her full size and admired her. What exsquisent colouring. Although she was not trained in dragon killing, her scales would make lovely boots. The Deputy Hunter turned her attention back to her commander, crossing her arms. 
[color=#006400]”Now what?”[/color] There was a annoyance to her tone, so slight that only Puck would be able to detect it due to having raised her for the past seventeen years.