[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=F0DAE2]Myth the Muse[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://78.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m1ibj4AWR71r9n0vm.gif[/img][hr][color=F0DAE2][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Winking Duck Tavern
[color=F0DAE2]Personality: Adventurous - Conceited - [b]Charming[/b] - Meddlesome - Valiant - Opportunistic[/color][/center][hr]

Myth took out her lute and strummed it. She knew the song and she knew it well. Why she was asked to sing it didn't matter to her. She would be able to captivate the audience easily with her voice anyway. [color=F0DAE2]"You ask, I answer. The Song of the Four, sang by yours truly. Sit back and enjoy."[/color] She started the melody easily enough, allowing the notes to enter the audience's ears. The song itself was a beautiful story told from her homeland. It often was used in children's tales, but inspiration was often founded.

[color=F0DAE2][i]"Now come gather 'round, children and more to hear the tale of those of the Four. Their story is told from years that have past to now when we sing of when we knew of hem last. First there was Halley, the oldest of their lot, chaos she weaved, to whom it mattered not. Bruce came next, the only man of them all, the stars and the cosmos all heard his call. Astrid came next, animals she adored, she could move in a blink and could not be moored. Nova the youngest, the last of the Four, she kept them all living forever and more."[/i][/color]

Myth continued the story, telling of their actions and the lives they lived. She couldn't help but smile as she loved the story and used it often as an inspiration for her own adventures. Once she was done, she paraded the last of the chords out before she stopped, taking a moment and bowing. [color=F0DAE2]"Thank you, thank you. You've been wonderful."[/color] With or withotu applause, Myth knew she killed it. Figuratively speaking, of course.

[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=9F6D88]Fleur La Mallificum[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/87/21/f2/8721f2de8f1f5190e168f84c925a1973.gif[/img][hr][color=9F6D88][b]Location:[/b][/color] Port Witch Coven
[color=9F6D88]Personality: Brilliant - [b]Devious[/b] - Humorous - Hedonistic - Vivacious - Scheming[/color][/center][hr]

Fleur fiddled with the hairpin in her hands, feeling the power. If Nera spoke true (and why wouldn't she?) Fleur had a powerful tool in her hands. One she would have to practice and master. She glanced back at he ghost of Nera, realizing that if she were to move o another locaion, she would have to leave Nera behind. That pained her, but she also had to do what was best for those in her flock. She took the pin and placed it in her own hair. Turning back to face Constance, she spoke, [color=9F6D88]"Queen Valda will get her comeuppance, of that I can assure you. I may have lost Luna, but I do not plan on backing down. I will send them a reminder to not try this again. For now, we move the children. And have some of the experienced witches start placing protective runes and charms around the perimeter. The last we need is a surprise."[/color]

With that, Fleur left Constance to deal with that. She needed to stay behind for something important. Fleur motioned her hands and closed her eyes. She pictured the castle as she saw it when she arrived for the Coronation. She could see the outlay of it and noted the target. If they wanted to target her and her home, then fine. But they had to know that actions had consequences. That was the basics of [b]Magyk[/b] wasn't it? She summoned her power, sending forth her energy to the castle. Soon, it would take hold. For now, she faced Nera's ghost and offered her a subtle nod. Hopefully, Nera knew she had to go. But she would be back.

[hr]

So what did Fleur do? Well, a large fireball appeared in the sky and began hurtling towards the castle. It was coming in fast and hot (ha!). The target was not anyone in particular. She only wanted to send a message. The Hole in the Wall Tavern was in its path. The tavern was not home to anyone except the ghosts of the departed, however luck was not in favor of a small boy who had hidden there, away from his abusive father. It was a solace and safe haven for him. That is, until the fireball hit, engulfing the tavern in flames, and the boy was nothing but ash.