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[color=00F8FE]Time: Night
Location: Edge of Lover’s Lake-Roman Ceremony
Interactions:	[/color]

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Callum arrived dressed as a shadow, having combed through his closet for dark clothing devoid of royal ornament. Intentional, because as much as he wanted to spend the night only sharing in and celebrating Roman’s customs, he needed to use tonight to search for the secrets hidden in the shadows of his home. The forest, covered in darkness, would provide cover and the majority of attention would now lay on the Damien estate. No better night to search for dark and twisted secrets to drag into the light and watch them writhe from the exposure. 

In the moments before the ceremony began, he walked, followed closely by guards who hung about like preying hawks, and tried to see all the things Ari saw when she looked at the forests. He even removed his shoes and left them somewhere that would quickly be forgotten, as it seemed many here had foregone footwear for the celebration. 

The attempt only morphed, as shadows cast by trees swayed and danced beneath moonlight, he only looked for the best routes of escape. A plan slowly etched its way into his mind as any attempt to find enjoyment vanished. 

Soon Roman, clad in a kilt and adorned with the bones of a bear, stood high above the rest as the rules for the night were relayed. He listened and he scanned the crowd that surrounded Roman. Ana was here, and Cal took care to avoid her, not out of lingering animosity but why repair a bridge he would one day need to burn? He kept his head turned away from her; better to not have to talk, to not have to feel the burden of an unvoiced apology, and to let that connection die off naturally. 

As Roman and Mina prepared for the ceremony, Callum inevitably found himself holding a red cup offered by the Varian Shaman. Of course, he wanted to see, he wanted to experience as much of this as he could and there wasn’t a drink Cal wouldn’t try at least once. 

Laughter rang out in bursts, clear and sharp. He kept to himself, stayed inside his head; a better option than to risk ruining the good time of others with everything that lived inside his head with him. 

A fire ragged, its warmth full and bright. Callum drank of an earthy brew that unsettled his stomach even more than what he was used to. He watched people, from all walks of life, come together as equals and wished he could feel hope in seeing it happen even if for a night. 

Roman and the Shaman began a chant, conveying something beautiful that lingered just beyond his understanding but close enough to appreciate, with the simplest of words. [/color]