[@SSW][@ManyThings] [@1Charak2] [@Sunglass] [@Cu Chulainn] [@Crusader Lord] [@King Cosmos]

[h1][u][b] Latin District - Alley-Hidden War [/b][/u][/h1]
[h2][b]Set End: Dawning Noon[/b][/h2]

The strike was strong, but her guard was surprisingly robust. He had used plenty of magical energy, enough to strike down most, but her defense was enough to leave her whole in shape, if not fully untouched in condition. 

[color=f26522]“Ah… so it is.”[/color] he whispered after her as she retreated. Ywain mentioned his own conclusion of his fight and he simply nodded as both of his companions made their way to him.

Ywain came in with a surprising swiftness as only a Servant could. But Elaine... Elaine flew. The girl had shed her mask, a small little thing in truth. Normal modern wear was replaced with a a beautiful dress, and fluttering on her back was a pair of wings like those of a butterfly, sprinklings of sparkling dust dispersing into the air around her with each flap. She wasn't human at all. She was, along with Ywain, his familiar and companion.

Elaine the Fairy.

[color=6ecff6]“Scary, scary. You know, if they wanted to attack me I don’t think even I could be ok.”[/color]

[color=f26522]“Next time you’ll stay with me. But your eyes were a lot of help.”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“Of course, of course… Anyway what’s important is that you’re ok. She was pretty tough to take that wasn’t she? Ah, of course if she didn’t run you’d have beaten her.”[/color]

[color=f26522]“I’m not sure about that. There could be more that she didn’t reveal yet. She’ll be prepared more next time anyway.”[/color]

Noon moved to sheath his blade on reflex… only to note the rather large problem with that motion that he noticed during the fight. A fact that wasn’t important in the moment in a struggle to the death, but rather important now at the end of it.

[color=f26522]“...”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“What’s wrong?”[/color]

[color=f26522]“Logres is gone. I think… someone took-“[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“Whaaaaaaaa?!”[/color]

The girl’s mixture of a bombardment of questions and chastising remarks rained down on the young knight who simply stared at his blade in silence.

He’d lost it. Or worse, let someone steal it. Was he so absorbed in the fight that he lost sight of his responsibilities and duties? Was he just so unable and inept that someone plucked such a thing away from him? What would his father say? What would that man they aspired to be like say?

His thoughts looped together, waves of disbelief, plummeting gut-twisting guilt and confusion assaulting him. How could he lose such a thing? In truth their battle performance would not be harmed by the loss of Logres, but the mystery of the Glorypledge, and the pride of the Triswichs would be besmirched.

Was he truly a mistake as those around him called him in soft spoken whispers? A foolish tryst, a laughable result from a unsightly pairing. 

Ah, father. If duty was everything then why did you pursue such a silly love?

That thought flashed through his dark clouded mind for a moment and send a greater pang of pain through his heart. To berate his father and blame his circumstances was one thing. But to think anything close to the idea that the love of his parents, or that his mother was a mistake.

[i][color=39b54a]How disgusting.[/color][/i]

…

[color=6ecff6]“Well we’ll just have to go find it and get it back! It should be easy enough!”[/color]

[color=f7941d]“Huh?”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“You heard me. If something’s lost or stolen you just get it back. That thing’s older than you, and so am I. We don’t disappear all that easy you know! You’re going to win this war and get Paris right? So you shouldn’t worry even if you lose a leg or an arm, let alone a paperweight!”[/color]

[color=f7941d]“...If it’s just a paperweight then why bother getting it back then?”[/color] he croaked out. His throat felt a bit numb, but there was a hint of a amusement in the rough voice.

[color=6ecff6]“Nevermind that. We’ve got work to do. Why don’t we go home and take care of our business and get some rest first?”[/color]

[color=f26522]“Yeah.. sure.”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“Leave it all to me. Get some sleep and work on getting the sheath back. I’ll take care of everything. A hero doesn’t have to do the dirty work, and we’ve got enough help to make sure you don’t need to shovel dirt anymore.”[/color]

[color=f26522]“I don’t mind dirt… It smells nice.”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]“You’re still a bit of a dirty little boy aren’t you? Honestly, you, dogs and pigs. I’m not sure who’d enjoy rolling in mud the most. But I guess your father was fine with that stuff either. Still, you even like the smell of that dirt?”[/color]

The smell of death, the somewhat unsettling feeling it brings to most people. The dirt of a burial mound would surely be something that was notable to the senses of a magus.

[color=f26522]“I don’t mind it at all.” he said, now sobered up. “It smells like you, Elaine.”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]"Eh wha?!-"[/color]

The smell of death, the smell of spirits, the feeling and presence of lingering fragments and memories.

The girl turned into a fairy, a ghost made into a godmother.

He smiled at her.

[color=6ecff6]"Hmph."[/color]

She turned away.

[h1][u][b]Bois de Vincennes: Forest of the Dead[/b][/u][/h1]

The form of the forest was changing.

The sounds of harlots and excited, impatient men gave way. Yet the giggles and flirtatious cries did not disappear. A sickening sweetness, mixed in with a tinge of malice, both intentional and innocently inherit brought the leaves to sway. Dancing lights, strange hypnotic circles and trees that seemed to bend under the wind in ways that formed paths. To step in that forest was to be confronted with a fairytale.

How terrible, how sweet.

She flew among the skyline of the forest, watching as it expanded, slowly encroaching forward and also growing thicker. This was no longer simply a park meant to be a contained exhibit to stare at for city folks, but a genuine forest of the wilds and fey.

Dancing ghosts turned faeries bounced upon mushrooms in their moments of break. Mountains were colored with the cold and dark feeling of death as graves. The dead of the forest gathered and were painted anew. This was no longer a place for humans, no longer a place for man. The boundary between death and life blurred, between illusion and reality.

It was a place where she felt rather at ease at, but that wasn’t what she came to Paris for.

She dropped down onto one of the roads leading out where two other figures were waiting. Her wings disappeared and her dress was replaced with a simple outfit of a short, cap, overalls and a rather trendy and heelies. Apparently the fairy enjoyed skating when she walked as a more normal girl.

“Let’s go, ok?” she grinned before skating away, leaving a trail of sparking lights from her shoes and hints of leaking dust.

[h1][u][b] Northern Latin District: Meeting Place in the Streets[/b][/u][/h1]

[color=f26522]“Sorry we’re a bit late.”[/color] Noon declared as he walked in with a proper posture and confident yet relaxed gait. I had to prepare for a hunt after our meeting. There was a thief and I needed to make sure I could track him down.”

A few faeries taken from his in-Paris home wandered the cities. Giggling and laughing even as he wandered about alleyways and streets, unseen and yet certainly not unfelt. A prank or two played as they went, unable to resist. But with the guidance of the sword they slowly helped form the image in his head.

Yes, the thief is there.

But for now.

[color=f26522]“My lady. I hope that you are not too cold this evening having to wait for a knight that has foolishly kept you waiting.”[/color]