[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/316071861521874946/525463806567251968/ambra2.png[/img][/center] [i][center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCd9Z6cc_6Y&ab_channel=TessaViolet]This tasteless haze of mine[/url][/center][/i] [hr] [right][sub]“[color=darkseagreen][i]What did you agree to?[/i][/color]” [i]“[color=thistle]To fetch Puck the Fomorian Blade. Three pieces to collect for three answers.[/color]”[/i][/sub][/right] [hr] [b]Time: [i]Fifteen Months Later[/i] Location: Paris, France[/b] Crickets sounded over the open fields leading to the mysterious, mist-covered copse of Yew trees outside of Paris. Scorch marks, scars lashed across the fields of grass. Midsummer greens encroached on the scars, creeping to retake what was lost. The moon had shone with silvery light casting long shadows over the darkened, charred areas of Paris. Construction crews slowly put back the missing pieces. Looming kilometres away sat the meteorite that was to blame for the blaze that had eaten away at the city. Taped off with plans to remove it. A light fresh breeze brought with it a familiar sooty smell of smoke. Deep in the small forest at its heart stood a tall, old Yew. Dark and unassuming. Twisted in the bark was a door polished to shine, with a golden knob and hinges to match. Its copper armoured guards nowhere to be seen, dead leaves gathered at the base undisturbed. Then...The wind shifted. Light began to filter through the threshold of the door, the grains of wood glowing. The knob twisted, with a sudden burst of energy the door swung violently open with a slam. Stumbling through it, appeared what could be mistaken as an apparition. Scrambling just behind the ghostly figure was a darker figure, the pair pulled the door shut and slammed it. Four hands on the door - waiting one, two beats before relaxing. The pale-faced creature turned, breathed heavily with the rise and fall of her shoulders. What little light there was from the moon reflected off of her [url=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b2/84/3a/b2843af6f3d49d742ef0ffb3f9f458f4.jpg]dress[/url]. Tattered white dress, strips of fabric of various lengths, sizes and material made up the skirt while the white bodice was sewn with bits of jewellery both genuine pearls and plastic rhinestones. Tightly wrapped around her chest and torso, exposing her back - the tattoo of the very same tree they stood by now. Down the length of her arms was the similar make up of jewellery, long strings of pearls wrapped between the webbing of her fingers. Long mousey blonde hair, tipped with a faint bit of blue was wrapped only in a small bun at the top of her head to house the spider silken veil draped delicately behind her shoulders down to the small of her back. The picture of a runaway bride. Turning about, the doll-like face of Odette Favre looked skyward, bright and pale blues searching.. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she turned to her pact partner and the only company she had kept for three long years. Bach with his bright yellowy greens found hers and he grinned, letting out a long sigh followed by a few chuckles of relief. A hand brushed through his wild hair, leaves falling free landing on the shoulders of his green blazer. “[colour=thistle]We’re home,[/colour]” She breathed in French - taking relief in freely speaking her own tongue once more, taking a long moment to stretch her bare toes into the dirt. Bach found himself doing the same. He turned his forehead against the bark of the Yew. Hanging her head down, she spied the costume jewellery - with a curl of her lip in disgust she clawed at the strings on her arm ripping them away. Next to be pulled was the veil, soft gossamer ripped to shreds. She looked around patted her hands free of the threads, finally she noticed the lack of guards greeting them. “[colour=thistle]Where are the guards?[/colour]” She asked aloud. “[colour=thistle]There are always two here.[/colour]” Bach pulled from the tree, looking around listening with his pointed ears. Tugging her purse around, she reached deep inside of it for her unused phone. Conserving power by keeping it turned off in the years since she had to use it. Even resisting the urge to use it as a mirror or peer wistfully through the photos. She held the power button and watched the screen only for it to respond with a red battery icon. She tsked. “[colour=thistle]Come, Bach. Some time has obviously passed, we must find out how long it has been here.[/colour]” She dropped the phone back into her purse, stepping away from the portal heading out of the copse. Sure feet guiding even through the dark, unaware of the piles of bodies littered just beyond the trail overtaken by the magically maligned foliage. As she walked, she spoke, “[colour=thistle]I can only hope time did not speed by here, knowing our luck it was only a few days that have passed against our three years.[/colour]” Bach shrugged easily, the passage of time not nearly as much of a concern for a Fey like himself, “[colour=darkseagreen]There is no way we could know.[/colour]” They broke through the line of trees, Odette nearly tripping over the armoured body of a long-dead alien. She stared down at it, registering what she saw then searched the horizon for the notably dimmed light of her Paris. Panic coiled in her belly, she threw her hand out rapid-fire French spoke the incantation for a new portal. The powerful wisps of the Arcane stream came to her in an icy blue glow. Briefly smiling at the return of magic, like a rubber band snapping back into place. [center][colour=thistle][i]”Grand et beau flot d'âmes, fais-moi voyager, dis-moi la sécurité, offre-moi tes plus beaux cadeaux. Volontiers, ne viendrez-vous pas à moi? Ouvrez-vous, ouvrez-vous à la volonté de l'Ambassadeur du Folk. Proche seulement de ma volonté en tant qu'Ambassadeur du Folk!”[/i][/colour][/center] She closed her fist and out of the line of bright light came a door, stepping through it she appeared instantly at the heart of her beloved city, appearing before the ruins of what was once her apartment building. The charred wood and stone, roped off for its property owner to clean up. Her mouth popped open with shock, even Bach’s reaction was genuine in its dismay. The loss of his beautiful garden, the knowledge, the- he dragged a palm over his face as he gritted his teeth turning away. Odette’s hands pressed against her temples, she tried and failed to control her breathing. Emotions roiling, descending into rage. “[colour=thistle]What happened![/colour]” She seethed through her teeth, “[colour=thistle]What happened to [i]my[/i] city![/colour]” Her hand snapped out again, another portal appearing. In her fit of rage, she travelled to all corners of the scarred city - portals brightly lighting up the night. Her ghostly visage terrifying the surprised locals both mortal and immortal. She appeared briefly at the edge of the Seine, a couple of Selkie heads breaking through the surface just in time to see her disappear back into the portal. She appeared by the base of the Eiffel Tower, the tower itself notably missing its top - cleaved off. Hissing she turned on her heel, another portal flashing in the night. From tops of buildings, running barefoot down cobblestone streets, whisking past every place she’s known and only arriving at the one place she dreaded its destruction - the Opera House. A fire had torn through it, leaving about half the building hollowed out, from where she stood and could see by streetlight. It’s history eaten up and with it, her sanctuary. Visibly sweating, breathing heavily from the magical exertion she kneeled down. A squeaky grocery cart wheels followed by a whistle caught her attention, what kept it was the Common Fey, “[i]Ein’t that a sight.[/i]” The sorceress jolted, her head snapping to the owner of the voice. Standing beside a beat up grocery cart full of odds and ends was the small goblin stature of Mara. Her unmistakable glass bottle glasses perched on the end of her long pointy nose, mismatched clothes small enough for children, with a pair of green pointy ears to match her nose. She removed her glasses delicately placing them into the cart allowing her deep red eyes to examine the sight of The Ambassador. “[colour=thistle][i]Mara…[/i][/colour]” “Bonsoir.” She greeted, warily she approached the Ambassador, “[i]Now, I imagined you had reason to be gone but eloping ein’t one of the reasons I thought.[/i]” “[colour=thistle][i]What happened.[/i][/colour]” She ordered. Mara pressed her lips at her tone but shrugged one shoulder, knowing better than most when to complain about barked orders, “[i]Aliens, my Lady. The invasion started with a rain of meteors, one didn’t hit Paris directly, but close enough-[/i]” “[colour=thistle][i]Is it still there.[/i][/colour]” Mara stopped, then nodded slowly, “[i]Aye, I believe so. Heard the mortals talkin’ about memorializing it or somethin’. Lotta other things took priority over getting rid of it. Meteorites still fetch a pretty penny so they roped it off with some guards.[/I]” Long nails brushed under her chin, “[i]Fires were put out a long time ago.[/i]” Mara made eye contact, trying to puzzle out The Ambassador’s intentions. The Ambassador pushed herself up to stand, her breathing had returned to normal. She pulled a handkerchief from her purse to dab at her forehead. Recomposing herself she asked, sweetly, “[colour=thistle][i]Where might I find it, Mara?[/i][/colour]” The sudden shift in her tone unnerved Mara, she responded immediately, “[i]Near Versailles.[/i]” Smiling a little, she bowed her head respectfully to Mara, “[colour=thistle][i]It is good to see a friendly face, if Bach arrives would you be so kind as to tell him I will return shortly?[/i][/colour]” “[i]My Lady-![/i]” Another portal opened, making the goblin squint painfully against the harsh light. The Ambassador clicked her heels then bounded through the door. Out the other side, she appeared above the site where the meteorite had left such a devastatingly large crater. Kilometers above it, she hovered momentarily before gravity brought her down, the wind blowing her skirt past her. Her bare feet touched down on the meteorite, magically assisted to softly land. The ground surrounded the meteor in a sloping wall. On the surface, there was a small tented area, soft yellow light glowing from one. Small roads were constructed to reach the bottom, some equipment already set up near the base of the meteorite. It seemed the government was ready to start mining it to extract all the valuable raw materials. Unfortunately, a sorceress’ petty bit of revenge took priority. Years scrounging for sources of magic to get home, scavenging in all intents and purposes. Storing power, carefully using spells when it was needed most. Now - having direct access to her wellspring of power, the abundancy truly excited her. Even enraged did her eyes sparkle with [i]delight[/i].Willing the Arcane Stream to come, she beckoned it with her Words of Power. A sliver of light began to form in the sky well above her, stretching in a singular line over the crater. The wind shifted once more, strong gusts kicked up ash, dust, and threatened to blow away the tents. Guards appeared from the tents, shielding their faces and eyes against the light. The sliver of light widened, the energy that flowed from that tear breathed life into its surroundings. Grass grew, roots jumped free from the soil, weeds pushed through the charred earth. Soil cracked with the movement of the plant life, water began flowing free from all sides. The Arcane Stream’s energy flowed down into The Ambassador’s outstretched hands, blue light formed around her body - enveloping her. Her hair floated free from her back, her dress becoming ethereal. Her Words of Power rose in pitch and strength. Slowly she brought her hands down to the meteorite, where the blue light spread surrounding the space rock. It creaked, then groaned as fissures snapped across it - loud bursts of sound following with every break. Shouts from the guards above barely reached her ears as she tore it apart. Large chunks broke away floating above her, every layer she broke through joined the collective swirling above her. Her body disappeared in a thick haze of broken meteorite, but the light shone on through it. Two feet planted on the large core, surrounded in a whirlwind of what she had broken. Bending her knees she jumped through the haze straight up to the tear. It shrunk in size, being pulled inward small enough to accommodate the size of a portal door. For a few moments in the chaotic winds, she was still. Her leg stretched out on an invisible platform, a tiny circle of light appeared at the tip of her toe. Her arms floated down in the same direction. A swing of her other leg spun her into a pirouette, standing en pointe she danced in a circle in midair - little circles of light for each step she took. Berry stained lips reciting the incantations, displaying a powerful control over earthly elemental magic even on something not of this world. Dancing around the formation of a portal door, she took her time. As blood dribbled down from her nose over her upper lip - she finally focused on the door. She twisted the golden doorknob, the scene that appeared before her was the wedding she had just escaped. Fey were visibly surprised to see the runaway bride once more so soon. A delicate flourish of her hand directed the deadly metal haze to fly past her body through the portal, raining down upon the wedding. The faerie present gasped in the poisonous cloud, the door slammed shut after the last particle found it’s new home in the faraway dimension. A terrible, unprecedented farewell to a place she had grown to truly loathe. Tonight they bore the blame for her disappearance, the meteorite repurposed as her weapon. From the ground, guards held up their cellphones trying to capture what they saw, in the grainy light-flooded videos, cameras saw the figure turn to peer over her shoulder down at them. Below where she levitated the crater filled with water, green sprouted where the fire had destroyed and the core of the meteorite was left behind. One more portal appeared beside her, she stepped through it and all light followed her in an instantaneous blink.