[b]Alina![/b] Before you leave, Cassian takes the time to inspect his absolutely broken nose in the mirror. With very satisfying whimpers and squeaks, he pushes it back into place, and then a pale light plays at his fingertips. His face goes even paler, almost snowy white, as he runs one finger along his bridge. “Good as new,” he sighs, before sponging at the nosebleed and reapplying his blush. Ah. That’s why Oberon keeps Cassian close. He’s a [i]healer,[/i] a great big... a goblin battery, that’s what he is, to charge his father when he’s out of energy. The fight against Oberon will be a lot more dangerous if something doesn’t [i]happen[/i] to Cassian beforehand. Given the slightest opportunity, he’ll learn exactly what you think of his advances. But you’re a little distracted by Ourania. She was holding it together for you, and now that she’s being called upon to be ready for the wedding, well... when Cassian started helping her into her wedding dress, you could see just how extensively the black-purple veins have spread across her back and shoulders. It’s possible that when she suggested you use Argossa, she was trying to make her own sacrifice in your stead. Ourania... She’s not having to hobble her way up the stairs onto the tea veranda, now a wedding stage. She’s limply being carried in the pincers of one of the Garthim, her wedding veil hiding the flawless black pearl set between her lips (to avoid inconvenient objections), her normally lustrous and shining hair bound into a dull, severe bun. If any half-respectable fox saw this, they’d call the whole thing off in horror and spend the rest of the day letting Ourania lie in the bath while preparing hot chicken noodles and tea, and then soundly spanking the would-be groom while dangling him upside down and lecturing him on how! you kidnap and marry! a queen!! As for the wedding stage itself... the sky is slate grey, and snowflakes dance down, reminding you of Ilumina. Your home, freed. You have to keep it safe, no matter what. No matter the cost. Garthim line the aisle. Of course, like any good invader, he has to set up a gaudy, lavish wedding. Hyperborea’s intimate, loving promises made before a few family and friends, and the exchange of clothing and jewelry, is so much better than this extravagance. It’s a display of Oberon’s power, his will to dominate, his army of magic sea parasites, and Cassian’s gaudy decorating sense. You follow Cassian down the aisle with those ridiculous, mincing, hurried steps, waiting for the moment to make your move. Until... oh, no, Adila! [i]Cassian, no!![/i] *** [b]Adila![/b] Hornet squeezes the badge, and follows that lifeline with you back to the present. To the time that is Now. To be with her friend, who is you, and you swell with pride as you come back to yourself, and stare into a nightmare. Garthim feed on magic, and also on magical creatures. Magical creatures deep in the sea often object to being swallowed, and do their best to slip out of that awful mouth, which is why the mouth (surrounded by waving, barbed maxillipeds) is lined with bony teeth, all the way down the neck. And you’re staring down one right now. The Garthim (plural) surrounding you and Hornet are trying to pry the two of you apart, but it was an uphill battle even before Hornet lifted her feet off the ground and wrapped you in a full-body hug. She’s little more than a snack for them, while you’re the main course they want to feast on, digesting you and your magic for... who knows how long it would take. Why are they suddenly so active? You see the smug smile of Cassian Fleet as he glances over his shoulder at you, and know: they’re being directed. He [i]told[/i] them to eat you. And suddenly becoming huge might risk squishing Hornet, who’s standing between you and that nightmare mouth, forced down by walls of ersatz muscle into the dark furnace at its heart. And, ridiculously, over the awful chittering you can hear the ominous, dirge-like wedding march. Things have already started. You saved your friend, but at what cost? *** [b]Kazelia![/b] You’re the ringbearer! Congratulations! These rings, he must have commissioned specially. On one of his journeys across Hyperborea, he doubtless stopped at Hobling Keep and slipped in as... someone. Not a peasant, not a shepherd, perhaps some rich Jedadi merchant or a dour Deep Hollow dandy, someone who could afford these interlocking serpent rings. Ouroboros, leashed. You stand there in your stockings and squeaky-polished Mary Janes, and a dress the exact color of sunless ice, so ostentatiously precious and frilly and poofy that it is attempting to annex everything around you. There is a hair bow. It is enormous and easily gets caught on things. It is proving to be very difficult to hold both spear and ring cushion, and fighting in this is more likely to end with you face planting than anything. Too bad Asteria’s wardrobe ended up being useful for your father one more time. And too bad that everything’s falling apart around you. They have Alina and Cassian’s trying to get Adila eaten and the dress has its own center of gravity, and you still don’t know how your father is poisoning Argossa or where it’s hidden... But before you can think that it is hopeless, Mother Void takes the thought apart. [i]Lies...[/i] Then there must be hope. Somehow. Somewhere. Even in the dark... Be a light.