[center][h1][b][color=9354FF]Fritz "Ryn" Hendrix[/color][/b][/h1] [color=9354FF]Time:[/color] Late Morning
[color=9354FF]Location:[/color] Royal Gardens[/center]
A vibrant spectrum of magic energies moved through the air, brushing against each other, and sometimes merging together to create something new, only to dissipate before anything could manifest. The dance of auras emanating from each attendee mesmerized Ryn, but his fascination did not stop there. He also noticed the traces of magical imprints left behind on some surfaces and, in fewer cases, people. Though he knew not what that indicated exactly. Wayra once explained to him that magicae were like magical signatures, unique to each individual and ever-changing. While two people may possess the same color of magical energy, how the aura presented themselves differed from each other. Magicae told tales of their bearers’ innermost qualities—a blend of their experiences, emotions, and aspirations. Although he had the knowledge, Ryn did not quite fully grasp what Wayra meant until he actually saw it through the lens that was crafted using the knowledge gained from examining a magical spyglass.

[hider=Sola 22, 1739][center][h1][b][color=9354FF]Ryn[/color][/b] & Peter[/h1][/center]
Ryn slid the last book into place with a soft thump and adjusted the lamp until the light speared through the holes in the orderly row of bookmarks. Peter let out a low whistle as the bookcase swung aside to reveal a dark passage beyond. But the excitement slid from his face as they crossed the threshold into a modest room. “That’s… only, slightly, very, extremely disappointing.” The redhead turned in a slow circle, gaze sweeping the area. “Where’s the treasure? The deep dark secrets? The big revelation? I expected more from a hidden room that has a puzzle for a lock.”

[color=9354FF]“Don’t dismiss it just yet. It was hidden for a reason.”[/color] Ryn crossed to the bookshelf and trailed his fingers along the spines until he found the one he sought. He eased a familiar embossed spellbook from its place on the shelf, just far enough to reveal the cover. [color=9354FF]“Starcatcher. Amongst other things of value.”[/color]

“Like this?”

Ryn turned his head at the question. Peter was peering through a spyglass, the end pointed directly at him. [color=9354FF]“That… wasn’t here yesterday.”[/color]

“You should check it out then.” Peter held out the spyglass.

Ryn lifted it to his eye, breath catching as the value of the artifact became clear.  

What might he have seen if the spyglass had found its way to him sooner? Could Ryn have changed the course of events or was Udo’s fate sealed the moment he and Wayra cursed Ryn?[/hider]
[hider=Morning, Sola 21, 1739][center][h1][b][color=9354FF][abbr=△△△]Ryn[/abbr][/color][/b] & Udo & Wayra[/h1][/center]
[color=9354FF]“What?”[/color] was all Ryn could say as he stared into the blue expanse that was Udo’s unfathomably calm eyes.

Udo regarded him with the infinite patience of a father striving to impart wisdom to a child not yet ready to grasp it. He rephrased, speaking slowly, clearly. “I will be dead before this day is done.”

The repetition brought no further enlightenment. [color=9354FF]“What...do you mean?”[/color]

Udo smiled, pitying the poor child. “Nnenne came while we slept and revealed to me what is to come. The powers that be are angry and they demand blood as payment for my—” Here he paused, reconsidering the accuracy of the word before continuing on, “—our, offense.”

“And Nnenne has granted her blessing.” At this, Udo’s eyes took on a feverish glint, his smile stretched wider in naked joy, and his voice infused with a strange euphoria. “Nnenne will allow me to die.” The rapturous delight in his own impending demise was a knife to Ryn’s heart. He looked away, unable to bear witness.

A large, warm hand settled on Ryn’s head, tousling the inky strands. Just as he did when they first met, all those years ago. “Do not despair for me, Fritz.” Udo whispered, voice as familiar and comforting as his touch. “You know I have long awaited this day.”

Indeed, Ryn understood it all too well.

Ever since the day a mighty wave swallowed the Eastern Islands—and Nnenne claimed a handful of “chosen” isles as her own—, reunion with his family, claimed by the depths, had been his long-held desire. His faith, the tenets of Nnenne’s doctrine, forbade him from seeking them out himself. Only an honorable death would reunite them. For Nnenne taught her Grandchildren to never squander one’s life, unless it was spent to preserve another’s.

Who was Ryn to deny Udo’s deepest wish? Though it grieved him—Creators how it grieved him—to let Udo go, would it not be the blackest selfishness to beg him to remain? The warrior was tired, so bone-deep tired, weary of living… Ryn must let him free.

Restless, biting sadness spread within.

Sensing the shift in Ryn, Udo traced patterns in the air and prayed. “Fritz Hendrix of Erwynn. May you one day be free of your chains and find true happiness.” Ryn closed his eyes, savoring the cadence of Udo’s baritone while they shared their last moments together. “If you cannot free yourself, I pray that you meet someone who can.”

Udo’s breath was warm against Ryn's skin as he brushed featherlight kisses to each closed eyelid, and then to the center of his furrowed brow, bestowing Nnenne’s blessing. Suddenly his arms were around him.

Ryn caught the scent of the salty sea, felt the heat of the tropical sun, heard the hush of waves breaking on distant shores and the siren song of that place Ryn could not follow, calling Udo home. Just as quickly, the sensations slipped away.

“Forgive me for not seeing your journey to its end.” Udo murmured.

Ryn shook his head, sinking into the solidity of the embrace one last time. [color=9354FF]“You’ve done plenty. Thank you for sticking with us as long as you did. We’ll miss you…”[/color] His voice hitched, [color=9354FF]“Creators, I miss you already.”[/color] The two held each other tightly, wordlessly, before finally letting go.

“Live long and well, Fritz. If Nnenne wills it, we will meet again in my next life. Maybe by then it’ll be a safer world where you can tell me your true name.”

[color=9354FF]“Why wait till then?”[/color] If reincarnation was possible, it was [i]this Udo[/i] who wanted to know Fritz’s real name. Ryn had no desire to tether Udo’s new life to him again just to learn his name. No. Ryn would not have that. Udo should be free. Unburdened and unbound, ready to embrace whatever new life awaited him.

The wind whipped across the castle parapets, stirring Ryn’s dark hair and coat. [color=9354FF]“Like the rest of my family, I was given two names. One is Fritz Hendrix,”[/color] he began slowly, [color=9354FF]“the other is—”[/color]

A sudden cacophony of wings interrupted him as a shadow burst between the two men in a flutter of inky feathers. One of them brushed against Ryn’s throat, soft as a whisper. [i]Hush[/i], it seemed to say.

The raven alighted on the nearby merlon, fixing the pair with polished jets that glittered with uncanny intelligence.

[color=9354FF]“Wayra,”[/color] he breathed. They cocked their head to one side in response.

Udo and Wayra locked eyes. Then as one, they opened their mouths. “ᛚ̴̛̯͔̃ᚨ̷͙̆̾ᛒ̵̛̤̫̗̾ᚱ̸͚͇́͝͠ᚨ̴͎̫̏͆̑ ̴̹̌͝ᚾ̵̧̧̪̋̋ᛟ̸͇̅͜ᛋ̸̟͚͒̿̍ᛏ̶̥̅ᚱ̶̛͍̬ᚨ̴̗̳͎̑̍ ̶̨͍̠̈͝ᛋ̵̧͉̩͐̔ᛁ̶̰̌ᚷ̸̳̯̈́ᚾ̷͙̯͈̌ᚨ̵̠̘̅ᛏ̶̝̾͘ᚨ̸̹̘̌ ̷̥͍̣͌ᛋ̴̢̫̦́ᚢ̴̯͎͒̊̽ᚾ̸̼̤̣̀̿͘ᛏ̶̢̰̽̋͝,̶̛̘̝̘ ̵͇̀͜ᛟ̵̞͉͍͌̋̾ᚲ̴͙̊͛̅ᚢ̷̧̙̻̂͗ᛚ̶̪͙̿̾ᛁ̸͓̅̈́ ̷͈͓͔̈́̄͝ᚾ̷̙̉̿ᛟ̴̢̖͍͋͋͝ᛋ̴͙̯̃̿ͅᛏ̸̧̜̲͊̒ᚱ̵̖̉̃ᛁ̴̯͔̈͋̿ ̶̲̱͔͂ᚲ̸̢̦͌ᛚ̶̣̟̀͋ᚨ̵̨̳͉̊͌̃ᚢ̸̭͉̽̄ᛋ̷̛̞̱͇ᛁ̷̡̊͋̿ ̴͇̓̏͝ᛋ̸̛̼̄̑ᚢ̸̧̟͇̓ᚾ̷͍̈́ᛏ̵̣̀̕,̵͚̳̯̍̅ ̸̳͎̠̓̽͌ᛖ̴̦̎͛͜͝ᛏ̷̘̮̬̀̎̚ ̴̩͊̍͝ᚾ̴͖̘͈̌́̊ᛁ̸̝̯̈̋̚ᚺ̸͋̒ͅᛁ̸͉̄͋ᛚ̸̼̊ ̷̘͗̈́ᚨ̴͍̼͉͆ᚢ̵̲̪̫̾͘ᛞ̸̱̩̆̆ᛁ̶̦̭̇̋̽ᛗ̵̧̪̑̕ᚢ̷̣̝̤̆̇ᛋ̴͈̇̓̃.̸̧̿ ̸͚̝̳̈̂͠ᛏ̷̲̊ᛖ̶̛̻̑ ̵̼̩̩̋̚ᚾ̷̤͔͋̃̔ᛟ̶̛̘̙̐̔ᚾ̵̲̖͑̏͑ ̸͈̿̈́̕ᚲ̷͙̘͝ᛟ̷̣͔̆ᚷ̵̹͋͊ᚾ̷̹̉̀͠ᛟ̷̞̈́̚ᛋ̵̢͈̻̿͛ᚲ̸̛̦̹̏͠ᛁ̸̩̀͊̄ᛗ̷̩͚̓̓ͅᚢ̸̢͔̪͐́̔ᛋ̷̡̙̥͆͛.̶̳̺̳̓̾” Voices—not quite Udo’s and certainly not the raven’s—melded and multiplied like a wave of voices layered over one another, until incantation seemed to echo and bounce back from every direction. The words reverberated with power, worming its way inside Ryn. Magic entangled his thoughts and robbed him of something.

Of what, △△△ did not know until he attempted to reveal his name once more and found that he was unable.

He tried to speak, to give voice to the name on his tongue, but nothing came out. Even thinking it felt strangely muffled, the syllables jumbling in his mind. Both the names △△△ and ◆◆◆◆◆ sat just out of reach, hazy shapes behind the veil the spell had drawn across his thoughts. In fact, he realized with dawning unease that he could not so much as think of a single word or detail that would identify him… only the vagueness of their presence.

△△△’s mouth opened and closed mutely. He could say nothing to reveal who and what he was. Wayra and Udo had sealed them all away, just as they had hoped.

Udo gave a satisfied nod to the raven. “It worked.” Wayra shook their feathers, clearly pleased with their handiwork.

△△△ raised his eyes to Udo questioningly, [color=9354FF]“Why?”[/color]

“If my death was ordained because of those men I eliminated, there’s no doubt Black Rose is involved in magic. Considering the extent of their influence, we must assume they have access to powerful, dangerous magic. Including spells that can invade your mind.”

“We cannot risk your identity being revealed—” Udo grimaced as the curse took hold. When the moment passed, he looked at △△△, resolute. “I am a proud Grandson of Nnenne. I will honor the oath sworn, as you have yours. Your adversaries will gain nothing from me, in life or death.”

“Whatever happens, I will protect you.” And △△△ knew Udo meant it with every fiber of his being.[/hider]
The magicae surrounding the attendees flickered and guttered like a dying candle before vanishing entirely from view as the enchantment of the lenses wore off. Ryn lifted the spectacles from his face then lowered it into his handkerchief. With a subtle sleight of hand, he replaced the ruined lens for a new one, the motion hidden behind the pretense of polishing.

The spectacles were ordinary in appearance—simple wire-rimmed glasses with circular lenses. However, there was more to them than met the eye. An extra slot on each side of the frames allowed for a secondary, bespelled lens to be swapped in and out. It was these additional lenses that gave Ryn the ability to see what normally went unseen. The two-lensed spectacles were crafted by studying the spyglass they discreetly borrowed from the hidden room tucked away in the castle library. 

Ryn and Wayra spent hours analyzing the spyglass’s magical components before attempting to recreate the effect in a wearable form. Their efforts proved successful, if imperfect: the spell burnt out quickly, especially when exposed to strong magicae.

Still, the glimpses were worth it. Once the newest lens settled into place, the garden erupted into kaleidoscopic brilliance once more. Ryn spared a glance at the case that held the remaining lenses, mentally tallying the few left. He would have to use them sparingly if he wanted to keep observing the hidden energies that moved through this place. Until Wayra made more, that is. For now, he drank in the temporary sight. Soon this lens, too, would fade.

Ryn lifted the porcelain teacup to his lips, the surface smooth and cool against his fingers. Steam wisped up to curl around his cheek as he surveyed the auras of the Danrose members from over the rim, reading their magicae. He noted the variations in the auras of the Danroses present. Each color—blue, green, red, and orange—and the intensity in which each glowed, spoke volumes about the nature of each Danrose, betraying truths its owner never intended to reveal to others and perhaps even to themself.

When he saw King Edin’s magicae, Ryn hid his surprise behind another sip of tea. He had his suspicions, but he was still unprepared for the confirmation. Though it did not absolve King Edin of the atrocities committed against Ryn’s family or Caesonia’s people, Ryn pitied him. He wondered when the king’s magicae had first begun to take on such a coloration. Then another, arguably more ludicrous, idea surfaced: If Ryn uncovered—possibly even remedy—the cause, was there hope for a peaceful resolution? Could they all find salvation?

Ryn took another long sip of tea, turning away from the king. Across the garden, Lord Smithwood stood off to the side, not mingling with the guests as much as Ryn expected him to. The aura around the lord was predominantly white with a yellowish tinge. It pulsed slowly, rhythmically, reminding Ryn of the steady beat of a heart. The tempo was disrupted only when someone tried to converse with him. At which point, the pulse spiked and fluttered like a flock of sparrows startled into flight.

That was not, however, what disturbed Ryn.

At the fringes of Lord Smithwood’s magicae clung the faint imprints of someone else’s magical energy. The shadow writhed and twisted, shifting into anguished visages that opened their mouths in silent screams, eyes hollow. Even from a distance, their torment was evident.

Feeling his gaze, Ryn felt an odd sensation of the faces shifting their attention onto him. One after another they sharpened their focus until—

Nothing. The colors. The faces. All gone. The enchanted lens rendered into mere glass.

Ryn removed his spectacles from the bridge of his nose and placed them into their velvet-lined case with care. He should keep a close eye on Lord Smithwood.

[hider=TL;DR]Using enchanted glasses, Ryn sees the magical energies (and imprints) of everyone who attended the tea party at the castle garden. [@princess][@Helo][@Lava Alckon][@FunnyGuy][@Potter][@Mantou][@Tae][@Tpartywithzombi][@SilverPaw][@Infinite Cosmos]

[u]Flashback(s):[/u][list]
[*]Sola 22, 1739: Ryn and Peter enter the secret room in the castle library and find the magical spyglass (returns it the same day)
[*]Sola 21, 1739: Udo and Wayra curse Ryn to protect him[/list][/hider]