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_{Location: Outside the Jail}

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A storm.

Ice like glittering lace, claiming every surface it could find.

An arctic, churning, tidal wave that bloomed into existence from the very heart of all that Amaya was, with snow capped crests and untamable force.

It spun around itself, wild and frantic and alive, as it slammed against the boundaries that made her.

Amaya’s steps faltered the moment she passed the threshold of the door, winter air greeting her inside and out. There was overwhelming solidity, as the empty space she’d been grasping at was suddenly filled with magic.

Her breath stuttered – and when she exhaled, slow and shaking, a cloud of frost passed her lips and billowed into the darkness.

She was whole.

Blinking, Amaya held the sudden thought in her mind – like it was a foreign object that she could raise to the moonlight and better see its patterns, its make.

A voice cut through her thoughts, and Amaya nearly jumped. Her head turned up towards the sound – the tall, female guard. The one who’d been standing sentry in the prison. Somehow, in the aftershocks of her own magic coursing through her veins, Amaya had forgotten that she wasn’t alone.

The Lunarian woman – and four Aurelian guards – had turned to her, eyes heavy against her skin. A matching force to press back against her magic. Held together by the threat each side presented, Amaya drew herself up again and forced a semblance of calm. All the while, her magic thrashed in familiar patterns as it tried to resettle into her.

Looking away from the guard’s soft face, Amaya turned her gaze down to find – a shred of dark, dried meat.

Ice blue eyes darted up to the guard, to find her already chewing. She blinked back down to the jerky.

…It was jerky, right?

Amaya had never actually had any. She’d seen it once before, drying on tall racks in the palace’s kitchen after one of her father’s hunting trips, salt and spices in the air. But she’d darted out of the kitchen before she could investigate any further – a small square of chocolate pinched between her fingers, two cups she hoped no one would miss, her pilfered supplies were damning in her hands as she heard footsteps echoing down the hall towards the kitchen. Amaya had darted away, back to where Elara waited quietly in her room, her heart pounding the whole way back. It had taken over a week before she’d finally convinced herself that no one had seen her that night.

Violet eyes watched her now. She couldn’t help herself – Amaya searched for hidden edges, sharp blades layered beneath careful actions and words unsaid.

Looking back up at the guard, her open expression, her simple offering, Amaya lifted a hesitant hand. She took the bit of hard, dried meat between two fingers.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Her stomach clenched painfully around itself. Amaya hadn’t eaten since this morning – and while she didn’t usually need much, the day had been a good deal more active than she was used to. Walking, riding, talking – hunger was often easy enough to ignore, but as she held the jerky and sniffed at it lightly, she found her mouth watering. Her entire body suddenly seemed heavier, her head less clear, as she remembered that she was exhausted.

Still, the foreign bit of meat in her hand seemed to stare back at her.

Movement caught her eye and she glanced up to see the Aurelian guards, tending to the horses a few feet away. One of them was looking back at her — the brown eyed man who’d watched her in the temple. He had one hand resting against her horse’s silver neck, the other on her reins, as he met Amaya’s gaze. His eyes flicked down to the jerky she held. Then back up. His eyebrows raised slightly. There was a question in his gaze as he waited for some cue for her, some sign of what exactly she was waiting for. Then something seemed to shift. The corner of his mouth twitched up in encouragement as he looked back down at the jerky before returning her gaze.

Amaya tore her eyes away, back to the Lunarian beside her. Finally, she forced past her hesitation and tore off a small shred of meat and slipped it between her lips.

Salt, smoke, and a subtle, earthy spice filled her mouth. She chewed slowly, eyes unfocused as she catalogued it all. The flavors, the texture…

The simplicity. Not just of the meat, but how it’d been offered.

Amaya chewed silently, watching the Aurelians as they saw to the horses. That guard wasn’t looking at her. But there was something soft in his eyes as he ran a soothing hand down the horse’s neck. Amaya watched him move, the way his eyes looked over the horse’s mane, her saddle, the buckles.

For a moment, she remembered him in the temple – standing across from her, two corpses between them. One nameless. The other, almost entirely unknown, but for the silent threat he’d represented for Amaya’s entire life.

Until he’d died for her.

The Lunarian guard was speaking again. Her voice shot through Amaya like the cold, that familiar armor again stilling her. Amaya looked up at her again, and it was like being back in the prison, reaching for the frigid storm of her magic and only finding emptiness. There was still no edge to her voice. No pointed reprimands or dismissals.

Just that simple openness as she asked Amaya what she wanted to do – where she wanted to go.

Something stirred in her, restless as her magic.

“That won’t be necessary,” she replied once she’d finally swallowed. “I just… needed to step outside.” And get the guard out of earshot of whatever Flynn was discussing with the prisoner.

Her stomach twisted around itself, nerves curling around her heart. Doubt crept in. The air around her hand was cold, the space beside her far too empty – too open, without Flynn’s warmth and shadow enveloping her.

She’d been so surprised when Flynn had allowed her to unwind her fingers from his, and pull away. Some part of her had nearly panicked at it – that he hadn’t held fast and kept her in place beside him. That he hadn’t kept her from making a mistake.

“But thank you,” she added, looking back up at the tall guard, “for the offer.” It surprised Amaya how very much she meant those words.

Standing in the frigid air, Amaya’s gaze traced over the five guards surrounding her – and all the open space they didn’t claim. Why had she insisted on coming out here, away from the shelter of walls and Flynn? Suspicion? An overabundance of caution?

The prisoner’s ghostly eyes flashed in her mind again, and his torrent of words. His tattoo. His smile. Bits of a puzzle, creating a picture Amaya couldn’t see yet.

She should’ve stayed inside. Listened. Been useful. Instead she’d abandoned Flynn to shoulder the conversation alone, because he was unconcerned with someone from a rival kingdom – her kingdom – listening to every incriminating thing the prisoner had to say about his family.

Ice crawled through her lungs, up her spine. A thin chill that numbed her skin. Amaya watched the shadows in the distant treeline grow deeper, seen through the falling snow.

Blinking away, Amaya tore another small strip of the jerky away to slip into her mouth. She tried to quiet the whirling, repetitive thoughts in her mind.

The two women stood like that for a time, silent as winter.

“May I ask your name?”

Amaya was caught off guard by her own question, soft as snow. She turned her head again to look up at the guard. Tall, imposing… but with a gentle sort of beauty to her features. Amaya took her in again, like she might find that distant coldness that she’d grown so used to from her fellow Lunarians – from those who wore a uniform and carried blade.

“I don’t believe I ever saw you at the palace.” Maybe that was why Amaya dared to ask – to engage. Maybe that was why this guard didn’t hold her at such careful distance.

A familiar fear crept up Amaya’s spine as she watched the guard, urging her to pull back – to be still and silent.

But she thought of Sir Abel, still and silent on the table. Something flickered in her, more potent than her fear. More painful.

She saw his face, a mask of death, and thought of all the conversations they’d never have. The rage she’d never hurl at him. The questions she’d never ask him.

“Where were you stationed before Dawnhaven?”

---

_{Interactions: Daphne Athenus @PrinceAlexus}

Daphne

Jail

Cell block Blues

Daphne glanced over at the 4 other guards present in their shining armour, Auralia Pattern plates, swords and so. They all stood about and she assumed they were the prior escort for the two Royals. she nodded to them as the Princess seemed to sample her food and did not spit it out or so, though after that cell block she would have eaten a lot just to distract from the feelings that sapped the magic and energy from her, disrupting her entire balance.

it was a surprised Daphne whom was questioned by the Princess, Amaya was not an recluse but she was known to be an reserved and quieter person than her Husband who was seen far more openly and actively involved in the towns business.

The woman was well dressed, warmly dressed and what you would expect from a woman at her station, she was friendly as much as she could expect from a Royal. Honestly . Daphne was not trained for this, she just decided she would be respectful and hopefully navigate based on reactions.

“It helps, not sure why, but it works.” She said as Amaya ate, Daphne had to find out by trial and error how to deal with the effects of the null Runes, the void that made you feel like your body was foreign to you. Some things just seemed natural to counter the feelings… This was one of them. The Princess definitely seemed to perk up though and she had become surprised … engaging with Daphne who expected Just to quietly guard and be given the polite nod or so and left.

“As I said mi lady , I apologise if I make a mistake, this is new to Me.” She said quietly and kept a close eye about her as they talked even with the 4, she was responsible and she took that seriously. She would keep Amaya safe until the Prince returned and probably recommend if ever asked they get warmth and a meal after the null jails effects that could throw a person's body off.

After a few quiet minutes Daphne her mind running through what she remembered described about the Princess and finding most of then to be false it seemed, she was reserved, quiet but did not strike her as a problem. “My name…” she repeated before her brain rebooted and turned slightly to face the shorter woman. “ Daphne, Squire Daphne Athena. Im not from a noble line, Cadian born.” She said and introduced herself, deciding to be more personal and leaving off some of the fluff and designations. Her Pruple eyes probbly where a dead give away of her heritage, somthibg about the town and the purple eyes.

OK. The former Orphan was out of her norm, the Princess was…being interested in her? Why had she not seen her? Well that was an interesting question to ask. How honest did she want Daphne to be? “Well my Princess, il risk being honest with you, and hope you allow me to be so. I cannot know what you saw. You never met me as my lord, his troops and others, so, with the darkness, long winter, securing food, markets, keeping control, ending bandit uprisings, it was bad, I was trained and rushed into service, court , ceremony was a luxury.

When the darkness never ceased, it got desperate, people were scared and … We had to fight our own people. It was not a proud time. Eventually we got orders to Dawn Haven.” Daphne finished, she might get in trouble from some for what she said but decided to be honest, she had no reason to lie this far from CapItal and she had an odd feeling she did the right thing. She would not lie that it was a glorious time, having to fight her own people who just wanted food for their children was not honourable.

Where was she stationed…that was a little complicated, she was a trainee, recruit, Squire… She had spent a long time not in the formal ranks. “If You wish, I shall say. Training mostly, Cadia, CapItal, Squire, My ability matched my Lords and eventually he made me family and Household. I've been in his special unit since. ” Daphne kept it short as her service was hardly the longest or grandest of the guards, she had no great victory or heroic stands to claim.

“Mi lady. .. I must ask, and I .. please keep my words safe, i place my trust, and some are hurt by truth.” She said softer than expected from a guard, a hope she would respect the trust she placed in the Princess. She had a odd feeling about Amaya… not that feeling she had for Kat, she doubted the Prince would appreciate her kissing his Princess.

Maybe she made a mistake but she asked, and Daphne gave her the honest and clear answer, without the fluff and general half truths of the court. She did not lie to a priestess, so a Princess…. Lunarian And one of her people and her country got the same.

Well she might be damned for it, but right now looking at the endless Darkness, glow of purple of blight… they were damned already. It was not Cadian Purple but a sickly...darker... peverted colour that made her shiver and not because of the cold.

Mentions
@c3p-0h

Eris peeked out from behind Charlotte’s shoulder, breath still caught in her throat—until she laid eyes upon the tall figure standing beyond the doorway.

Zephyros!

Relief crashed over her like a wave. Her fingers loosened their grip around Tia’s hairpins, the tension in her chest began to ease, the sputtering embers of her magic quieted.

"Guard Hale?" she breathed, the words escaping in a soft exhale. The name grounded her, steadied her pulse. A tentative smile bloomed across her face as he met her eyes and gave her an easy smile in return, casual and reassuring as ever.

“Apologies… something… something just happened and you gave us a scare,” she added gently, half-laced with a laugh that never quite surfaced. Her eyes shifted to Charlotte, still tense, blade unwavering. “It’s okay, Miss Hawthorne. This is Mister Hale—I know him. He’s another guard.”

Zeph’s attention lingered on Charlotte, quietly sizing her up. Thoughts seemed to shift behind his hazel eyes, yet he let it pass without comment.

“Is there something we can help you with? It sounded quite urgent.” Eris asked, her tone more composed now, formal instinct kicking in like muscle memory. Her gaze drifted over him—no armor, no uniform. Just boots and simple winter clothing. She’d only ever known him as a sentry. It struck her as odd, seeing him like this.

Zeph turned his full attention to Eris, a lazy smile still faint on his lips—though it softened at the edges, concern flickering behind it.

“I was passing by,” he said, tone light, like he didn’t want to stir more alarm than necessary. “Saw someone drop from one of your balconies and take off into the trees.” His brow creased faintly. “I tried to follow, but…”

He paused, then lifted his left hand halfway, a sheepish grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. His wrist was already purpling beneath the cuff of his jacket sleeve, swollen and stiff.

“Slipped on some ice in the process. Think I might’ve broken something.” He flexed his fingers carefully, then winced. The grin faltered slightly. “But I wanted to check to make sure you’re alright.”

As much as Zephyros—Guard Hale—had clearly assessed her, so had Charlotte done to him. Her steely-blue eyes darted up and down his figure, then met his gaze once more. She, much like Eris had, noted that the man before them that was supposedly a guard donned no armor.

Yet the name was known to her.

This was the man that she’d most recently been assigned to.

A smirk crossed her lips as she kept her blade in place, gently prodding his chest with its tip. Not enough force to cause any harm, but enough to be noticeable.

Zeph’s gaze slowly drifted away from Eris, flicking briefly to the blade poised just beneath his sternum, then back to Charlotte. A slow smirk curved across his lips in response.

“Your arrival is convenient, Guard Hale,” Charlotte glanced to his wrist, her tone not quite one of accusation but certainly laced with doubt. Eris’ eyes nervously darted between the two—the relief she’d felt moments ago vanishing in an instant. Against Charlotte’s better judgment, she lowered her blade and planted it between her feet. Confident enough to lower it, wary enough to keep it drawn.

“Why aren’t you in uniform?” She raised a brow, “Surely you weren’t granted leave with all that happened yesterday. Especially given that there was a certain Zephyros Hale’s name written above mine on the assignment sheet.”

Amusement flickered in the golden flecks of Zeph’s eyes as he held her hard stare—interest sparked.

“That can’t be a coincidence, Guard Hale, can it? Because if that happens to be a brother of yours, I’ve got a bone to pick for leaving me alone in the cold.”

Her expression now hinted at the annoyance portrayed in her voice, Eris’ presence behind her almost completely absent from her mind. Zephyros clearly looked capable enough to have been their mystery assailant, and Charlotte wasn’t buying a broken wrist from slipping on ice for a moment.

“You Aurelians truly are bold, aren’t you?” Zeph chuckled, slipping his hands into his coat pockets—ignoring the sharp pain that shot from his left wrist and up his entire forearm. His gaze briefly shifted to the Sage, still standing silent and rigid behind the taller woman. That bright smile of hers nowhere to be found.

He almost felt guilty.

“I was pre-scheduled for a day off.” He offered at last, eyes returning to Charlotte—almost surprised that he didn’t have to look too far below his own eye level. She was shorter than him, as most people were, but taller than the majority of women who’d glared up at him countless times before.

“No one briefed me on having a new trainee until this morning.” He continued, carefully omitting the fact that no one had even been able to find him the night before. “I was actually on my way to find you. Figured Lady Hightower might’ve known you—being Aurelian and all. Turns out I was right.”

“Apologies for leaving you out in the cold, though, Hawthorne.” He added, a faint half-smile returning. “Lack of communication between our two commanders, I’m sure. I’d never leave a lady out in the cold otherwise. I’ll make it up to you.”

Eris could’ve sworn she saw something mischievous dance in his expression, despite the earnest tone of his voice. In contrast, Charlotte let out a quiet and unimpressed huff.

Nervously, Eris stepped around the armored woman, placing a gentle, reassuring hand on her upper arm. “Let’s at least get him out of the cold, Miss Hawthorne.” She said softly, holding Charlotte’s gaze. “I should take a look at his wrist.” Something unspoken passed between them. A silent plea hidden in her gaze.

Charlotte’s skepticism was palpable. But Eris had come to know the man standing just beyond the door. Zephyros had never given her a reason to be fearful of him. And yet…

She trusted Charlotte too. What did her new friend suspect that Eris didn’t? Who could she trust more? Or was it naive to trust either of them?

A thought crept in—was this tension simply due to the internal strife between Aurelians and Lunarians? It was no secret that integrating with one another had been difficult. Still, it was interesting that the two had been paired together. A step towards progress, perhaps? If Charlotte didn’t escalate.

Letting her hand fall away, Eris turned her attention back to Zephyros. Snow gathered in the dark strands of his hair, those bright eyes already settled on her. She offered a soft, hesitant smile, then stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in.

Zeph flicked his gaze back to the sentry in the door frame who still blocked his path.

With noticeable hesitation, Charlotte nodded to Eris before turning her eyes back to Zephyros. She held his gaze for a moment, head tilted upwards, before stepping to the side and stowing her sword in its place on her hip.

“Well, in you go then.” She motioned with a single movement of her head, “Don’t get any ideas.”

Zeph stepped inside, his smile growing faintly. “I would never.”

Charlotte took a quiet step back, positioning herself just off to the side of the room. She didn’t stray far—close enough to intervene if needed, but far enough to give the illusion of privacy. Her posture eased, but her eyes never left Zephyros for long. Though Eris seemed relatively calm in his presence, Charlotte’s hand remained near the hilt of her sword, her gaze sharp and measuring.

One thought was at the forefront of her mind; a slip on the ice would have to have been quite the extraordinary one to have broken a wrist.

Eris’ trust in him wasn’t enough to convince Charlotte to fully relax, even if this was supposed to be the man she was assigned to as a partner.

And yet, she’d seen the way that Eris had looked at him without fear. That counted for something. The sage was certainly no fool and her intuition had already proven itself even if it hadn’t been backed up by courage. For the time, Zephyros had earned the benefit of the doubt. If Eris trusted him, Charlotte would trust her.

“You can sit here,” Eris said, closing the door behind Zeph. She gestured toward the sitting area to their right, where a fire crackled in the hearth along the far wall—likely lit by one of the Sages who had already begun their work for the day.

As instructed, Zeph moved toward the area—a space much more familiar to him than the upstairs had been. Quietly, he settled into the armchair he typically claimed whenever the Sage took it upon herself to offer snacks and drinks during long watch hours.

“May I see your wrist?” Eris asked softly, appearing beside him with a dainty hand outstretched.

Zeph carefully withdrew his left hand from his coat pocket and offered it to her, watching as she cradled it gently in her palm and examined closer. Each time she poked, prodded or pressed, he winced. And each time, her blue eyes flicked up to meet his—apologetic, but measuring every reaction.

Slowly, she rolled up his sleeve to reveal more of the bruising. His gaze drifted to the delicate and precise way her fingers moved—his attention catching on the softness of her fingers as they grazed against the tender skin of his forearm.

As if sensing the burning of her gaze from across the room, Zeph glanced up to find Charlotte’s eyes locked onto him. He offered her a faint smile.

“You still have some range of motion.” Eris murmured, almost to herself, fingers brushing carefully along the edge of the bruise. Zeph returned his attention to her. “I don't feel any shifting.”

Her gaze lifted to meet his as she slowly withdrew her hands from his wrist. “It’s likely a fracture, not a break.”

Straightening, she turned toward the dim hallway that led to a lab, where another Sage had briefly appeared earlier. “I can’t heal you today,” she added softly—regretfully, “but another Sage should be able to.”

Zeph lifted a brow. The lead Sage couldn't heal him? Strange. But he kept his mouth shut.

As Eris disappeared into another room and out of sight, his gaze shifted back to Charlotte.

“Did you see who it was? They didn't hurt either of you, did they?” he asked, his brow creasing in feigned concern—just enough to sell it. Lying had always come easy.

“Whoever it was looked like they were in a hurry to leave.”

Charlotte’s eyes lingered on him for a moment before she shook her head slightly, “That much we agree on,” she paused, taking a seat at a table and leaning onto its surface, “No, they were gone by the time I got to the room. Lady Hightower first alerted me to the threat.”

She looked up to Zeph once again as she finished speaking, looking for any hint that would betray him but finding nothing. “It’s odd. All that effort and nothing was taken.” Charlotte held back the small detail of the gemstone for the moment. If Zeph was truly as innocent as he said, she didn’t expect him to push this particular point any further.

“Nothing?” Zeph echoed curiously, his brow drawing tighter as he painted confusion into his gaze. Briefly he glanced away, as if lost in thought over this “new” bit of information. In truth, he simply listened to the quiet shuffle of footsteps from the room Eris had vanished into.

“Must have been quite the fall you had,” She nodded towards him, intending to direct attention to his wrist, “I suggest a bit more training when you heal up. To strengthen the muscles ‘n all, might prevent such a strain in the future… especially just from slipping on ice.”

“You’re lucky it wasn’t your sword arm, the commanders wouldn’t be too pleased about that.

Zeph’s concern melted into a quiet, breathy chuckle, amusement flickering back into his eyes. “The Commanders aren’t pleased about anything.” He muttered dryly, his gaze dropping to his bruised, throbbing hand resting on the armchair.

“Appreciate the advice.” He added, tone thick with sarcasm, as he idly used his good hand to pluck out a small piece of gravel from his palm. “Since we’re partners now, I’ll make sure we train hard and often. Can’t have you ending up like me. Weak wrists and all.”

His gaze flicked up to meet Charlotte’s, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Before either of them could say a word, his attention slid to the right—where Eris emerged from the other room with an older, curly-haired brunette woman following just behind. The same Sage Zeph had seen scrawling runes across the prison walls the day before.

“Miss Hawthorne. Mister Hale.” Eris interrupted softly, her gaze shifting between the two of them. “This is Lady Penelope Rovella. She’s a healer as well.”

Stopping beside Zeph, she gestured to his wrist and looked to her older peer. “Pen, this is Zephyros Hale. He’s a gua—”

“I’ve seen him around.” Penelope cut in bluntly, her brown eyes narrowing on Zeph as he met her with an innocent smile. “You’ve a talent for making a distraction out of yourself.”

Without waiting, she took his wrist into both hands—far less gently than Eris had.

Zeph sucked in a breath as Penelope lifted his wrist and pain lanced through it. His gaze narrowed briefly on the older woman, though her attention was now fixed on her own hands wrapped around his wrist. Eris grimaced, concern etched into her expression, but she let Penelope work without interference.

As the older Sage closed her eyes and drew in a slow breath, a soft yellow hue began to radiate from her palms. Zeph watched intently, a spreading warmth rushing through his veins and leaving a tingling sensation along his fingertips. After a few minutes, Penelope opened her eyes and pulled her hands away. Zeph flexed his fingers, testing the movement, then smiled.

“Good as new. Thanks, Pen.”

“Lady Rovella.” She corrected him without looking back, already headed towards the lab.

“Thank you!” Eris called after her, though Penelope offered no reply as she disappeared into the other room. Unfazed by her peers' attitude, Eris smiled softly and returned her attention to Zeph. “Now I have a favor to ask.”

Zeph raised a brow. “That so?”

“Can you see what you can do about increasing the watch around the Alchemy Chambers?” Her smile wavered, worry flickering in her eyes once more. “The intruder didn’t seem to take anything… we think. But I… I don’t want something like this happening again.”

Zeph nodded, “Of course. Hawthorne and I will even take it upon ourselves if we have to.” He volunteered his new trainee—though from the look of it, it seemed she’d already assumed that duty on her own.

“We’ll report what we saw to the Commanders and request more soldiers to stand watch. You should speak with them about what you saw too.” Eris nodded, but Zeph hoped she wouldn’t—or at least that she wouldn’t have much to say about it.

“We should check the perimeter.” He added, rising from the armchair—his height casting a shadow over the small Sage who took a step back to give him room. Looking over her, his gaze found Charlotte. Silently, he offered a nod toward the door in lieu of a verbal command.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, standing from her place and tucking the chair back neatly against the table. A small smirk spread across her lips as she let her eyes hang on Zeph for a moment before making her way to the door.

“I know you’re technically my superior, but how are you going to be any help if you’re unarmed and… unarmored?”

“What do you think I have you for?” Zeph smirked, falling into step behind her. “You're the distraction in case I need to make a quick getaway.”

Charlotte paused for a moment at the door. Something was missing. The recruit’s mind jumped down her list of gear before her eyes widened slightly, “Just a sec, forgot my shield upstairs.”. Without wasting a second, Charlotte retrieved the keys from Eris and promptly walked across the room and up the stairs, her armored footsteps never failing to betray her position.

Finding the tower shield still leaned against the small table, she took a moment to tighten its straps onto her forearm before hefting it up to her side.

After locking the door and returning the keys to Eris, she found herself back on the ground floor, walking towards the front door once more. Relatively new breastplate shone gently in the candlelight, still free of enough blemishes to advertise her status as a recruit. Her pauldrons, bracers and boots all glistened similarly as she moved, gently clinking against each other.

“Shall we?”

Holding the door open, Zeph quietly gestured for her to lead the way, his gaze purposely lingering for longer than necessary.

Charlotte stepped outside, squinting briefly as the cold air slammed into her like a runaway chariot. A quiet cough escaped her lips as the chill reached her lungs, “I’ll never understand why you Lunarians chose to live in this…frozen wasteland. Do you actually enjoy this, or is it just as miserable as it is for me?” she called back to Zeph before turning her attention ahead.

Zeph raised a brow as he followed her out, hearing the Sage’s footsteps close behind—silently observing the pair. “This is our warm weather. I’m not sure what you mean.”

Before her, Charlotte spotted two figures approaching the Alchemy Chambers. The first of them appeared to be ever so slightly familiar, as if she’d seen him in passing during a patrol. Taller, younger looking though still older than herself, dark, medium length hair that didn’t quite touch his shoulders. Attractive enough by all accounts, were her mind in the right place.

The second figure however is what captured her attention. Surely younger than her, but the lack of color in her skin betrayed any accurate guess at her age. Four, purple glowing eyes—or what appeared to be eyes at least—stared back, though definitely aimed towards Zephyros. Behind her, inky black wings were tucked neatly against her back, but still made the recruit uneasy. She’d crossed paths with blightborn a few times, but none quite this… uniquely gifted.

Following Charlotte’s gaze, Zeph lifted his attention over her head and spotted the two—recognizing the blight-born immediately. His gaze slid to the unfamiliar man beside her. From posture and attire alone, Zeph could imagine that the man was just as polished and high-born as Nesna might’ve been, once.

Peeking her head around Zeph’s arm, Eris quickly scanned the frigid landscape, heart quickening as she searched for whatever had brought the duo to a sudden halt. What if the intruder had returned—what if they’d come to—

Her attention caught first on the blight-born woman, eyes growing wide at the unnatural violet glow that reflected off every snowflake drifting past two sets of eyes. And behind her slender figure, unmistakable despite being tucked neatly against her back, were… wings?!

Eris’ gaze snapped up, darting between both guards, expecting tension. But neither Charlotte nor Zeph seemed alarmed. Not nearly as on edge as she felt.

Still, Eris unconsciously moved closer to Zeph’s back, attention sliding to the man beside the blight-born. A flicker of recognition. Nathaniel. Relief softened her shoulders, if only slightly.

Returning her gaze to the woman, she studied from afar with growing curiosity. Even with the increasing unease inside her chest, Eris knew she should say something. She’d be expected to. She needed to smile, step forward, stand tall, and greet them like a proper host.

She inhaled, lips parting to speak.
But Zeph beat her to it.

“Nes! Should I alert Kane or are you behaving today?”

---

_{Interactions: Nathaniel @Echotech71, Nesna @enmuni}

Eyes narrowed, Flynn stared back at the man behind bars—green meeting blue, oceans colliding. Neither wavering.

“You speak as if you know me.” he said at last, letting the statement hang in the air for a beat. “I am not so thoughtless as to never question my own family. Or the clergy.”

Annoyance burned in his throat, but he kept it buried—barely managing to keep his tone neutral. He tried to keep Amaya in mind—her way of using silence and words like precision weapons. Or keeping peace in the name of survival, when danger lurked behind every corner. Like the threat staring back at him now.

“Why do you think any of us are here?” He questioned, voice flat. “If I never questioned them, this town wouldn’t exist.”

The words were bitter on his tongue. Speaking ill of the clergy was reckless, though he assumed most already knew his stance. He’d pleaded to delay the prophecy, after all.

But the thought of speaking his true opinions—recalling the things he’d seen—coiled deep inside his chest, causing his muscles to tense.
He could've said more, but didn’t.

“If I were never to question, the Princess and I would already be dead. My child orphaned."

Frustration simmered, a dull spark lit—bleeding ever so slightly into his voice.

“Do not presume to understand me. My wife. My family. Or hers.”

Carefully, Flynn chose not to speak of his own loyalties. The puppeteer had blown right past the question anyway, but Flynn wasn’t about to bare such truths to a stranger who spoke openly of regicide either.

Truth was, he didn’t yet know where his loyalty ultimately laid. And a leader, he knew, needed to be sure of their words.

But for now, that uncertainty didn’t matter. Peace had lasted among the two nations for fifty years. He had no intention of breaking it. The marriage between the heirs had been unifying, in a way.

What mattered now was curing the blight. Returning the sun to her proper place in the sky. And keeping Amaya and himself among the living.

Nonetheless, Halcyon's words gnawed at him. The man seemed determined to make Dawnhaven more significant than Flynn had ever intended it to be. An interesting thought—a dangerous one.

Something the Aurelian Prince didn’t wish to entertain—couldn’t entertain.

But something sharp dragged along the edges of his mind anyway.

If they cured the blight and somehow returned the sun… what then? Where would he and Amaya go from there? Would they stay in Dawnhaven? Would Amaya’s father allow it? Would they return to Aurelia? Would she even want that?

Flynn pushed the thought away and refocused on Halcyon. He needed to stay present. Not give in to the seeds of doubt Halcyon was attempting to plant. Not let his mind spiral on the unknowable future—not when there were so many variables.

Not when he could very well be dead within the month, and none of it would matter at all.

The man’s talk of blight and the goddess—her physical form absorbed by a mortal?—sounded like something ripped from fiction. The ramblings of a fanatic cloaked in allegory.

“If we ‘accept’ the blight and do nothing, we’ll all die,” Flynn said coldly. “There is no guarantee of survival. And you’d have us welcome it with open arms? Let millions be consumed?”

His brow furrowed, disgusted by the mere thought.

Halcyon seemed content to sacrifice so many lives across the continent… for what? So that those reborn might live on and rule over ash for a time?

Without the sun, without human, plant or animal life—the blight-born would be just as doomed.

This wasn't a brilliant vision for a brighter future. This was delusion.

Flynn peeled his gaze away, glancing down the empty stone hallway. His mind caught on the mention of what lay beneath the capital. The forbidden reaches below the Aurelian palace.

Had Halcyon seen it somehow—or was this another wild swing, another thing he so boldly claimed to be fact without proof?

It didn’t matter. Flynn had heard enough. His patience was thinning. His time was better spent elsewhere—not listening to the musing of a mad man.

Sighing, he returned his attention to Halcyon, staying just beyond reach of the bars.

“Why should I release you?” he asked, getting straight to the point. “Why not let you rot here? Or call upon my father’s forces and let them drag you back to Aurelia—to answer for the violence you so clearly intend upon the crown?”

---

_{Interactions: Gadez @Dezuel}

---

Desmond, with Silver in tow on his right shoulder, has since left the moon temple. It was becoming a bit crowded for his tastes, and since the people there were busy and not really paying any attention to his presence. He had the sense to leave and did not expect to see the married royals to arrive, but they too quickly went about their business.

So, back into the falling snow, and Desmond being satisfied with his exploration of Dawnhaven. He is walking back to check up on his store, trying to ignore the heavy falling snow, while Silver was in her element and did not mind much. His workers should be moving his goods into the store, and he can finally start being a merchant in this town and earn some coins.

So far, Valthyr's little housing project had not made any progress that could be seen with the naked eye. Having spotted a pompous building whose apparent luxury triggered bouts of vicarious embarrassment, the druid assumed that he now knew where Ayel lived. If anything, who else should put so much effort into maintaining an entire garden full of busts that looked like the despicable man ? So he now knew where to look for an empty spot, but all the empty spots he had found so far had enough traces of wheels and footsteps deeply imprinted on them that growing a tree there was likely to block some important access route.

Did Dawnhaven have any plan where things were laid out or was everybody mostly left to his or her own devices ?

Again, Valthyr felt the temptation to just not try and figure that out the very safe, but bureaucratic way. He could just as well look for the least frequented spot that was preferably large and plant a seed there. He had picked up a few samples earlier from other trees, but not decided on the species yet.

The druid then noticed a blob of reddish hair whizzing by the very corner of his vision. Had his human hearing gotten worse because he hadn't picked up the sound of crunching snow ? Valthyr made a mental note of seeking a healer's attention at some point in case he had caught a cold from all the barefooted-ness, then raised his hand in an attempt of a friendly greeting.

As Desmond walked, and paid some attention to Silver when she suddenly hooted and seemingly pointed at something with her head.

Desmond turned his head to see what Silver was pointing at, and it was a man. A very tall man, perhaps the tallest he has seen. It was intimidating, but seeing the man’s raised hand. It made Desmond realize that the man is trying to be friendly.

So Desmond waved his hand in a friendly manner at the man in return. “Hello there,” Desmond said in a friendly tone. Silver was staring at the man, watching but not showing aggression.

”Hello!” Valthyr responded, his voice being a very chesty one. A few more moments passed with him solely focused on Desmond himself, but then he noticed that the man was not alone. There was… an owl spending its time peacefully on the merchant’s shoulder ?
Almost any other pet or animal companion would not have grabbed the druid’s attention as thoroughly as this one. It was basically common knowledge that owls were more skittish and quite skeptical of human activity than, for example, cats or dogs who’d been widely domesticated for much longer than he could even think about, yet this one sat perched on the stranger’s shoulder as if they were friends since forever.

”Does she have a name ?” he asked and stepped a little closer so he would no longer need to raise his voice as much.

“Her name is Silver, and I am surprised you could tell she was a girl.” Desmond sounded amazed yet curious. “Most can not tell what gender Silver is from a glance, and it was a lucky guess or you know owls.” Who is this man, he wondered and thought in his head..

Desmond studied Valthyr to get a clue about this stranger, and besides his clothing which did not tell him much other than he had to be freezing. In this cold weather, with the snow falling as heavily as it was. It seems like the stranger will suffer, and in a concerned tone.

“I see you do not have shoes on, so perhaps we can take this to a warmer place?” Desmond asked the man and quickly came up with a place to go. ‘How about the Eye, or perhaps my store? It should be warm in either.“ Desond then remembered something he should do before he forgot. “My name is Desmond, by the way, and what is yours before we get inside?”

Valthyr weighed his options in front of his inner eye, deciding whether the idea of going to that other "Eye" was a good one. He had been there before, twice in fact, but on neither occasion had it been for relaxation or any other activity such a place was meant for. It would be a first one and that sounded more tempting the more he thought about it. On the other hand... Retreating to a store which was likely far less cramped with strangers would have its perks, too.

"I leave it up to you to decide." he ultimately replied with a subtle smile. "I'm Valthyr. Got a family name called 'Naffron', but you can just forget about that if you'd like." Not that he had ever liked it very much, but given the comparatively small amount of people that had to be uniquely addressed in his origin community, family names had never been much of a focus anyway.

"I know a bit about animals. Plants, too. In fact I just wanted to start growing a tree here." Did it sound absurd if he referred to the act as casually as to anything else that normally didn't take years to reach a conclusion ? He pondered while also walking with the merchant, then decided to at least not tell anything about his plans of also having a treehouse in a matter of days yet.

His index finger itched. He wanted to touch the owl and stroke her gently, but his mind froze its joints solid so it couldn't move and shamelessly breach the barrier of privacy everybody deserved. Also what if Silver would just decide and dig her sharp beak into his skin during the attempt ? Patience, Valthyr reminded himself. Patience!

“Nice to meet you, Valthyr, and I will try to remember your last name either way. I should say my full name, Desmond Wathen. If you are familiar with my family’s business and you are that much of a green thumb, okay.” Desmond said respectfully,” but maybe start growing once this snow stops.” Desmond thought for a moment since Valthyr decided he should pick, and after weighing the two options. Desmond came to a choice, “The Eye would be best right now, and besides, my workers are probably still moving my wares inside anyway.” Desmond said and started making his way to the Eye.

“Food and drink are on me once we get there, and if you are in need of either,” Desmond said in a friendly tone. I know Silver here may want something.” He chucked, and Silver made a soft hoot. “Oh yeah,” Desmond said like he was forgetting something. “You can pet Silver, but do it slowly. ”Desmond emphasized the slow part.”She does not like it when someone does it fast or rough.”

---

The warm, scent-laden air of the Eye billowed out onto the open street the moment the entrance door was opened. His nostrils disliked the odour and lack of freshness, but the large remainder of his body embraced the warmth as a very welcome change. Desmond's mentioning of him going to pay for any food expenses almost made Valthyr's stomach chime into the mix as well for he hadn't eaten anything proper for as long as he had already been here, at least.

It was only a slight detail, but... had that door been repaired somehow recently ? Must have been the many people using it every day wearing things out prematurely, or had this place fallen victim to some intoxicated ruffians recently ? Of course neither was the truth, but who was he to know ?

The large number of people in here served as a stark reminder of how little he still knew. So far, Desmond appeared to be quite the nice person, so maybe he could dare to poke some proverbial holes into the man's stomach by asking him questions about this town. There had to be many more people worth chatting with maybe.

The druid stowed away the thought of stroking Silver away for just a moment, thinking that it was easier to do once they had seated. A set of chairs in a yet empty corner managed to catch his attention so much that he didn't notice most of the other, more peculiar patrons that were spread out across the room. Even Sya herself slipped past his eyesight that moment in spite of the fact that her not being tall was compensated for by himself being way more than just a bit of that, capable of looking onto things from above.

He gestured towards the table with an outstretched hand, hoping that the merchant would be pleased with his choice.

"Now..." he began with a more lowly tone. "I'm maybe not what one could consider to be your average person, perhaps. I just arrived yesterday and it was... quite turbulent to say the least. I don't have much of a clue about how things work here yet." It was as much of an unspoken request for help as it was a very barebones starter for an explanation of all that had happened. Could he even talk about the fact he had witnessed a murder first hand ?

“This table is fine,” Desmond said, not making a fuss about where he was sat and sat down at an open chair. Silver jumped from Desmond’s shoulder to the table and was looking around. “This is her first time being here, and well Valthyr given the people that Dawnhaven attracts.” Desmond noted a brightborn with four eyes that had just passed by them. “I would not be surprised, and I hope your welcome to Dawnhaven was better than mine.” Desmond chuckled at the thought. ‘I have only been here a short time, and when I reached Dawnhaven. I was greeted by a ten-day-long blizzard.“

Desmond sighed and sounded a bit concerned. “I do not know if that was a sign or anything, but here I am, and only now is my store being stocked and should be open soon.”

He leaned back in his chair and felt like he had talked enough. “But enough about me,” Desmond leaned back in and looked at Valthyr and spoke in a friendly tone with his hands closed together on the table.”What brings you to Dawnhaven, and what questions do you have about how things work here? I can help there, and what was this turbulent event you dealt with, if you are willing to share that is.”

It was a simple question, one even adorned with the explicit reminder of not having to blurt out anything if he really didn’t want to, but still it felt like finding oneself stuck in the midst of a sudden avalanche. One of the kind that contained both snow and rocks. Where should he even start ? Valthyr’s thoughts raced long enough for Desmond to probably notice something until he finally reached a conclusion.

He would tell everything. There were people in Dawnhaven who each held a part of the puzzle already and he would not leave it up to them to piece the full picture together, possibly the wrong way because they didn’t see the subtle differences at the edges of each piece.

Valthyr took in a deep breath nearly filling the entirety of his lungs, then used that to start talking: ”I…” Another moment of awkwardness. ”I’m a druid from Lunaris, or at least that’s what people associate us with. We live high up in the mountains and usually don’t have to do much with the daily affairs of the kingdom, but the news about Dawnhaven even reached us. I came here to find out what’s true, but could not have imagined what I actually ended up in within… minutes ? I would not even know that ringing the bell at the center of this settlement is intended to signal a general alarm if it hadn’t been for me witnessing the murder triggering that alarm first hand.”

The flood gates had opened, it almost felt like relief to hear his own voice venting everything. ”Saw the prince, but only briefly until he left the hunting party that was set up and I was a part in. I’m sort of a shapeshifter, you know ?”

Was that too fast ? Now it was out, but the first bits or regret seeped into the void that there was now instead of the lake. There was a saying that a few things in life never came back and one of them was one’s own spoken words.

Desmond took a minute or two to process what Valthyr had said since it was very much news to him. He sounded a bit taken back by all of what Valthyr had said. “Okay, you definitely had a worse first day than I did.” Desmond looked like he wished he had a drink. “I never was told who discovered the murder, but the fact that it was you on your first day and I cannot imagine how that would feel. Entering Dawnhaven and seeing that.”

Desmond shook his head in disbelief, but sounded like he was getting a hold of what was said, but changing the subject. “I am from Lunaris too, so that is something we share but, while I have met some interesting people in my life under my father’s watch with the family business.” Desmond looked like he was thinking hard about it. “I do not think I have met a druid before, and I have heard of them.”

Silver hooted twice forcefully, and Desmond seemed to know what she was saying and turned to her. “I know you are hungry, but not now.” Silver gave Desmond a look and hooted again. Desmond sighed, “We will eat soon, just be patient.” Silver did not make a sound and for the moment seemed like she was listening to Desmond.

He turned back to Valthyr, “sorry about that but… being able to shapeshift is new to me and impressive, though I did not know that anyone could do that.” Desmond looked amazed but with a hint that he had some suspicions about it. “Still, I imagine the town has need of your talents, given the Blight and the missing sun. I have seen the prince as well and even the princess, but I have not met either yet.” Desmond looked a bit more relaxed now.

“Either way, you seem like an interesting person being a very tall druid and had a… eventful first day here. Well, I think it is time we eat something, and I know that Silver over here is itching for some food, and trust me. She is not yet addicted to human food though she likes chicken. So what do you say, Valthyr?”

”I say yes!” Must have been the heavens that had sent Desmond his way, Valthyr thought for a very brief moment. After the avalanche of disappointment yesterday this was a big turn for the more benign. ”If there is anything I could do to return the favor, please tell me.”

His hand slowly crept closer towards Silver, his fingers barely hovering above the table’s rough surface as they inched their way forward. His elbow was virtually ready to make an abrupt turn at any moment should the noble bird decide that this was too early for such an approach still. The owl’s feathers now were almost in reach.

”We have quite a few animals where I come from, not just cattle. People tend to think that it is the non-humans that are in need of teaching, but… there are some indications to believe that the opposite might be very much the case as well.” No, he was not going to mention this prick with four letters in his name as a prime example now!

Desmond smiled while getting the attention of a barmaid. “It is fine, and for now, let’s just relax. Since it sounds like you may need it after what happened.” Then Desmond had a thought about what a favor. “Besides, I have no favor to ask right now and the only I could think of if anything would happen to Silver.” Desmond's voice sounded concerned at the thought, but soon relaxed a bit. “She has lost one family already and I would be distraught if anything would to happen to her.‘ Desmond stared a Silver with loving eyes and looked like he was prepared to hug the owl, but decided against it for now.

“I agree,” Desmond shifting his gaze to Valthyr. “Animals can teach us things we would not think about.” He chuckled, “I know that may sound strange coming from a merchant but, Silver has taught me some things and I do not know what I would do without her.” The sincerity in his words was clear, mainly the last words about Silver.

“What about Valthyr? You have an animal companion or a best friend with fur, scales, or feathers?”

The druid looked up to the barmaid for a moment, offering her a polite smile hidden somewhere behind the forest of stubborn beard that had grown over the course of his journey. This appeared to be one of the more well organised places, but still he had not noticed just how exquisite the Eye actually was with its owner being the marvelous prime feature.

”Back at home, yes. Not like a pet I would own in person, but the community in general has quite a few. Also, sometimes I feel like being a shapeshifter of sorts, it helps with forging a bond with animals, even though it is just a very, very intricate illusion that can be distinguished from the real with senses sharp enough. I can’t replicate an owl though, just cats, ravens and a big bad wolf. Right here, Silver is actually the first animal that doesn’t appear somewhat hostile to me. That is… given that the last one I encountered was a blight-born squirrel.”

The images of Sir Abel being slain, the woman creating half a glacier out of thin air and then everybody running away flashed through his mind. Several people had witnessed it, but nobody had seen it from the perspective of a feline. Did the killer know this as well ? Had he even recognized him as the man he truly was instead of a harmless, small animal ? Clearly nobody else had and that served as another reminder that, in the end, he might have to talk to that prince anyway. Asking Desmond about Flynn’s location however felt quite a tad too audacious for the moment.

“Okay Valthyr, I see.” Desmond would reply back as the barmaid looked at him for an order. “I will have some chicken wings, please.” Then she switched back to Valthyr.

“I do not consider Silver a pet, more of a companion since I have raised her since she was a baby and despite my attempts to release her back into the wild. But she always comes back so I consider myself lucky in that case.” Desmond went to slowly pet Silver and she would coo at the touch with a smile.

“”Still that is impressive Valthyr that you can do such a thing even if it is just illusion magic.” Though Desmond had a curious look on his face, “A blightborn squirrel you say.” He made a half chuckled, “that thing would be angry though I hope it was not a big danger despite it being a blightborn.”

Desmond sighed, “Silver has been friendly to humans and I think that is because of me though she can be protective of me.” Silver, while still relaxed, was watching Valthyr but not in a scared or aggressive manner. More of a semi-cautious, like she was studying him but at the moment, she was willing to let Valthyr pet her if he wished.

Sya Leala, keeper of this little inn, was having a small migraine behind her eye after dealing with a 4 armed pirate. She was agitated as she spoke checking on several things including if they had enough food on the heat for the guards shift change. Her tail and hands gesturing as the woman come Lmaia spoke to the barmaid.

Gentlemen, Vala needssss a break, so il ssserve food. Anyzing else, strikesss vour fancy?” She said moving to hand the food over, her balance almost too perfect as she swayed slightly. Sya added some innuendo and a little bit of the cheerful, playful innkeeper she presented to the town at large at work. Thought today with arm ring, tunic and leather skirt she embraced her native lands more.

She turned to the trader, the man she did not know but the men, he supplied decent beer. ”Velcome back, good traders alvays welcome, you get my gold, not the other one. Im Sya, i run ze Inn, bakery and distillery in town.” The one eyed Lamia said proudly though she was pretty tiny compared to the giant newcomer by a good 2 feet or more, far slimmer but she held her ground confidently, this was her little realm with a hint of tail peaking to say hello from behind her with a cautious wave of blue scales.

Valthyr’s surprise acted more quickly than his countenance, causing him to blink his eyes at least two times upon the sight of Sya. He had always imagined he had seen a lot of things already, but she… just had not been on that list yet. Apparently one eye could deliver more a piercing stare than two if needed, even though he couldn’t even tell immediately if Sya was actually staring at him or just looking normally and he completely misinterpreted things in his momentary confusion.

Was he supposed to wave back at her face or at her tail that was welcoming him so cheerfully ? ”Erm… hello! Nice to meet you!” Yes, not only the druid’s hair and beard were red by now. His face somewhat, too. ”I’m Valthyr, just arrived yesterday.” The back of his mind prayed for not getting into the circumstances of having to tell the entire story again, in spite of how briefly and superficially as he had just done it for the first time. ”I’m a druid from Lunaris and trying to find my footing here. Desmond’s already helping me a lot with that.”

He gave the merchant an appreciative nod. Something touched the tips of his fingers and he spotted how his hand had drifted forward just the tiny bit that had been necessary to touch Silver’s feathers.

”I suppose you know each other for a few days already ?” he asked, not addressing anyone in particular.

“I have met Sya before, though briefly. It was the day after the blizzard ended and there was a party hosted in here celebrating it being over.” Desmond saying it to Valthyr before turning to face Sya. “Though now that I think about it, I am not sure I gave my name last time we met. I am Desmond Wathen, and it is nice to meet you properly.” Desmond spoke in a mostly friendly tone towards the lamia.

Though Desmond was hiding his lingering scared nature against Sya, he is still learning about the blightborn and learning more about her in particular. She seemed like a friendly blightborn and a good host based on what he has heard. Though what she eats, he is still learning.

Sya was having a little fun teasing the druid, sure he was a customer but it did not mean she had to be entirely boring and people seemed to be used to her somewhat strange manner because the town, everything was strange times. ”Welcome to Dawn Haven zen, ve not have much but itsss home.

Oh a…prei…Gothi of earth? blessed one? ” Sya said and her eye did a flick as well as a shift of her tail just passing over some seasoning in a jar and placing it down with a wave of blue scale and surprising control. ”He is a good egg. Good beer too.” Sya said as she smiled at Desmond and gave a little dip in her tail, lowering a fraction and offered a small hand to properly introduce herself. Returning to her not so grand height of about 5 feet.

”Sssyraeia Leela, vut everyone callsss me Sya. Nice to properly veet you. Hopefully a repeat customer both ways.” Sya said genuinely, she always liked to meet new people and to gain new opportunities. These men were both, she could make a good impression and maybe make some interesting and new people to bring into her world.

Moving silently and slid over resting onto a chair, kinda awkwardly sat of a sort, unable to sit but not standing. ”If vou do not mind vy company a little.” She said cheerfully, a little of her teasing self back and present.

"Not at all!" the druid replied. Well, in fact he did mind a lot, but in a positive way. He could feel how his attention just wanted to pour all over Sya and take in every little detail. A blight born ? So it was true, not only did Dawnhaven have them but there were also those with a benign character. At least so far Sya had not done anything that would indicate anything different.

"So I'm Valthyr Naffron, but as I already said to Desmond you can happily forget about my family name again." He chuckled. "That blizzard must have been here before me, I just arrived yesterday and didn't encounter any bad weather." Silently, he supposed that after six months of almost darkness there was no need anymore to mention that 'not bad' no longer had the same meaning as it had once held in more classic times. "My plan is to build a small home here, a tree house perhaps as that's the quickest way to do it I think."

Sya might have been just 5 feet tall, but the way her tail wiggled and redirected iridescent colors into his eyes made her feel more like being double or three times that height and using all of it to wrap herself around his head. That would probably go away after some getting used to her appearance, but until then he would have to put some effort into not staring at her all the time.

“It is nice to have a proper meeting with you Sya.” Desmond softly smiled at the lamia, still hiding his lingering fear. “I am fine with your company and someone else to help Valthyr here get used to town.”

Desmond then turned to Valthyr. “The blizzard did happen before you arrived here, and a good thing that you missed it.” Granted, Desmond then remembered how Valthyr encountered a dead body on his first day and realized that both of them, the dead body with Valthyr and him with the blizzard, had bad first days. Though Desmond would take the blizzard over the dead body, despite having to endure ten long days of that blizzard.

“Still, how do you plan on building your tree house, Valthyr?” Desmond shifted to a curious tone.”While I am sure there are trees of good height nearby, it would take time for a proper home to be built on one.” Then again, it has been a long time since Desmond has seen a tree house, let only be in one. “Do you need any place to live before your home can be built?” Desmond asked concernedly.

He has already noticed how his clothes seem insufficient for the cold and with this cold weather. Desmond does not like the idea of Valthyr being out in the cold at night. “I have some spare room in my house if you need one?”

Sya nodded as she listened to the men talk with tail bouncing a little and waving as she perched, it never stayed fully still and Sya's own big blue eye glittered with a tiny glow as she sat in the chair that did not suit her entirely anymore. Reaching up, Sya adjusted loose long dark hair out her rather large single eye. “If vou ever need a meal, ve always ave something hot, if you ever need vork, I always van use a strong Man to help, much work, vew hands.” Sya reached over and gave his solid arm a poke with an exaggerated gesture and a playful tone. Sya was genuine but she could not help but tease. It was too much in her personality.

”Their is space, iv you want to annoy Ayel, make it taller zan is home.” Sya said with a look that implied she very much disliked that man, he was one of few she actively and very much disliked, she did not feel anything from him.

Sya waved her tail to Desmond casually with a lazy movement back and away, it copied with its own almost instincts. Sya was not blind amd very attentive, She noted he had a slight fear and note of her being what she was, Sya did not mean harm and willed herself to relax and rested the narrow tip on the table glittering with such fine tiny layered scales, delicate and precise. ”Zankyou, maybe one day i can call vou both friend. ” Sya said cheerfully and would of Snacked. She had no need to snack. ”Ov course, I vas one of early, town was quiet zen. I help… alvo….”

Sya paused and thought. ”Vou try to be more careful, brave yes, vot zis is a dangerous place Valthyr. Know bad.” Sya said softly warning him a tiny bit for being reckless, but also a hint of concern. Sya knew too well how dangerous the Blight Beasts and lands could very much be and wished she did not at times.

She blinked and her eye returned to normal as she turned to look at the men and lightened again just as fast as she darkened.
"I highly appreciate your offer, Desmond, and would be happy to accept. I do not want to be a burden however, so if there is any way I could put my skills to use, just tell me." Valthyr replied towards Desmond before turning his gaze back towards the one-eyed lamia. "That goes for you as well, of course."

When Sya mentioned Ayel and the idea of making his house taller than the noble's residence, she had struck pure gold inside him. The sheepish grin made its way onto the druid's face faster than he could even try and cancel it out, betraying rather easily how open the door Sya was knocking on already was. Surely he could try to arrange that, the only thing potentially stopping him being a bit of concern about the possibility that moving higher could put his home into the exhaust plumes from the residence's chimneys. Then again, wouldn't a man such as Ayel use only the most dry, most pure firewood one could possibly get ? He wanted to see the man turn red out of annoyance, but not himself wake up dead because of smoke.

"I can make plants grow faster with the proper ritual. It is delicate work, but it can be done." Valthyr shifted his eyes towards the chair Sya sat on more haphazardly than could be really comfortable. "Though if I don't have to sleep outside anymore, I could prioritize some other wooden projects first. How about... a better chair for you, for example ?" He pointed towards the standard issue rig beneath Sya's scales. "Something more curved, perhaps. And carved out of a solid block or with fewer parts at least."

Ayel, the Aurelian noble trader whom Desmond has heard about. While he has a impressive merchant empire, but has the ego the size of a palace. He has yet to meet his Ayel, who would be his rival in this town. Based on what Sya has said, she does not seem to like the man, and while Desmond wants to remain open. Chances are, he too would dislike the man who honestly seems like the person his parents never wanted him to be.

Desmond focused back to the subject at hand and turned to Valthyr. “It is no trouble on my end, and it sounds like you have ideas of how to aid the people in town. It is not like you are going to be a freeloader.” Though Desmond was curious how long it would take Valthyr to make himself a tree house for himself if he can make plants grow faster.

Meanwhile, Silver was watching the three talk, and while she was being patient with Desmond, she was concerned about food. But she was mainly watching Sya, the blightborn was something she had never seen before and was trying to figure out if she was friend or foe. Anyone there could tell that she was watchful of Desmond and almost seemed to be guarding him. Still, Silver has yet to take any aggressive actions against the lamia.

Still, Desmond undeterred by Silver’s actions but taking note of how she felt. He continued to talk to the two. “So, Valthyr, what do you think you will be doing here now that you are in town?” Desmond a bit curious about the subject. “Just wondering how a druid like yourself will be doing, mainly though it sounds like you have some ideas.”

.
Sya was Intrigued, he was an earth Gothi who could increase the rate plants grew, he could manipulate the earth magics… He had a great potential to be a rather important person and Sya had met him in kindness, you never knew who you meet, so Sya was Sya, she was a warm inn keeper, least to the wider world. Privately Sya felt lonely without those around her and needed others to function properly, friends, tribe, more naked happy friends, and anything In Between Sya Just needed human connection to help remind herself she was not a monster and not alone any more.

Through the chair. Her eye was emotive and her tail expressively moved with her emotions plain to see. Happy. Sya could not hide her emotions, part of her … unique new self. ”A … Yes. Yes. Please. Vi am… perch… vut it is not work well.” Sya thought, 1 chair. .. what if?

”One chair, zee if it works, il pay you for one for vy Office, vand a larger… Seat for vy libiary. I snuck on a few extras to ze build.” Sya said with a grin and exerted more control over her appendage. ”Fair pay, yes, i pay fair for Gothi vork.”

Sya turned to the bird, it was eying her and she could tell it was almost evaluating the Lamia. She had a keen sense of people, things and strong observation skills. They iz pretty Desmond, Vat iz ze name of zis elagent creature.” Sya asked and slowly moved her hand to let the bird see she meant no harm.

While all this was going on, her brain did its typical Sya thing and changed mid flow. ”Ve always need a good smiðr, wood smith. much new, and much building.” Sya might have butchered it abit but she commented accurately on the town's demand for skilled labour.

Valthyr slowly retracted his hand from Silver after it had rested quite close to the owl for the majority of their discussion so far. The animal appeared either nervous or approaching the end of her patience, probably both. ”I can start working on the chairs pretty much instantly as there is not much else to do while I wait for the tree house foundation to grow. I think I’ve seen a few other solid trees in the forest on my way here. Is it… is it allowed to just cut one of them ? Might also need a helping hand to carry the parts of the trunk I need and a few basic tools.” The druid's eyes turned towards the merchant, the question for Desmond’s opinion about that as much unspoken as it was unnecessary to verbalize. He was willing to share whatever Sya was willing to pay, of course.

”No worries. The trees I meant are pretty much at the rim of the forest as seen from Dawnhaven. No need to go further inside…” he was quick to add. If the rest of the blighted squirrel family was still in there alive, it would be foolish to go alone. Except for this certain noble, perhaps as either the latter’s arrogance could drown out even the corrupted forms of life or, should things turn for the best, it couldn’t and he would just not come out of that forest so soon again.

”To answer your other question, Desmond, I’ve basically been sent here on the biased expectation that the rumors about this place’s existence that have reached even us would not be true. Yet here I am talking with both of you, so…” Valthyr grinned slightly. ”... maybe sending back an initial report would be a good start for me once I have settled in a bit ?”

Sya looks back distracted checking the door and main room, no need to move yet. She thought and nodded along as she shifted evidently she did need a chair more designed to her new form, her comfort was less than ideal too. ”Ask vor Ivor if need help too, hard to mmissss ,very big man, nice though.”

”Good zings i hope, ve make best, even in dark time. Ze post office is short from ze market, 3rd vrom left lane.” Sya Said, report back gave her a mental shiver but he seemed to be … not so bad, and hopefully they sent him off with a good perspective of Dawn Haven.

“Hmmm,” Desmond leaned back in his chair. “I am not sure if anyone is allowed to just cut down a tree but I can find out. Since it is for making something and not just blatant destruction.” Desmond leaned back in, to the table. “Let me worry about that one, Valthyr, and we will see if it will be okay.” Desmond sounded confident in his words.

“But that sounds like a good first step, Valthyr,” Desmond said with a soft smile on his face. “Letting your people know what is true or not about Dawnhaven.” However when Valthyr spoke about a certain noble that he seems to dislike. It made him wonder who this noble could be, and there are sure to be plenty of nobles in town who could fit the bill. They are nobles after all.

Then a curious look formed on his face. “Though I have to ask, what do you and your people think Dawnhaven was?” Desmond knows little about the rumors surrounding Dawnhaven, they were not his concern at the time. So he paid no mind to them. The rumors about the blightborn living in Dawnhaven were more of his concern. Since he knew little about the blightborn at the time, and is still learning about them.

Sya waved her tail in a gesture that was combined with a shrug and flash of light reflecting bright cobalt blue from the fire as she wiggled a little to remain seated. ”Long as outside ze town walls, vou have time easssier..” Sya said as she looked about and the Inn remained as it was…no more drunken pirates thank the goddesses.

”It vas nice to meet you, please be velcome you handsssome gentlemen, my hearth iz always burning and velcomes vou..” She decided and placed two small sample bottles she had in a pocket marked “Shine of Selene. Basilisk DistIllery. ”Strong yessss, proof burns, free sample, much to come. First batch.” Sya said with a smile and she rose but not before she teased the far more easily blushed Valthyr by using her tail to grab his knee and with a one eyed wink turned away playfully as she slithered silently across the room to call for someone to put a new batch on putting her Head round the kitchen door as a flash of blue snaked out the edge of the bar as she did.

Nathaniel Stormlight

---

Location: Alchemist chambers.

---

Nathaniel walking amid the tranquil winter landscape, with Nesna at his side. The soft crunch of his boots echoed faintly in the stillness as he walked, each step leaving a mark on the untouched blanket of fresh snow that gently fell around them. He rubbed his hands together, urging warmth into his fingers, though the thought of using his magic to ease the chill lingered at the back of his mind. As an Aurelian, magic came at a cost; he would end up using more energy when it came to casting or diminished power, sometimes both. Nathaniel's family, renowned for their mastery of magical arts, had learned to be resourceful.

His gaze shifted from the small figure of the lead Sage to the two shadowy shapes hovering at the entrance of the Alchemist’s chambers. The woman stood tall and resilient, dark hair framing her sharp features, a glint of steel evident in the armour that adorned her. The sword at her waist was not merely an accessory; it was a testament to her training and prowess, an Aurelian guard, perhaps, dedicated to safeguarding the Sages and the research within.

Beside her, a man with tousled dark brown hair exuded an air of relaxed confidence. His attire was straightforward, contrasting sharply with the guard’s imposing presence. Nathaniel's eyes flitted back to Eris, noting the way she stood near him, the close proximity between the two. A thought struck Nathaniel, unbidden and unwelcome it was a flicker of jealousy. Were they more than just comrades? The question wormed uncomfortably into his mind.

His stomach twisted, a feeling of unease washing over him. The very notion sparked a flare of anger, the kind that burned hot and erratic. In a moment of distraction, his foot slipped on the icy surface, and for a heartbeat, he teetered precariously, heart racing at the thought of tumbling into the snow. The embarrassing misstep only deepened his frustration, prompting a low, muted curse that escaped his lips: "Idiot."

The insult was reserved for himself—foolish for allowing his thoughts to drift to such unsettling territory and, more pressingly, for looking foolish in the snow.

Just as he prepared to steady his thoughts and speak, the man at the threshold broke the silence, his voice ringing clear across the cold air. Nathaniel’s brows knitted in surprise as he shifted his focus to the young Blight-born at his side, curiosity gnawing at him. "That guy,"he paused, a warm breath escaping his lips as he spoke pondering what to make of the situation.

"Is he a friend of yours Nesna?"

---

Mentions/ interactions.

Nesna @enmuni Eris, Zeph @The Muse
Charlotte @SpicyMeatball

_{Location: Eye of the Beholder → Aelios Temple Hot Springs}

---

Ivor wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there, staring at the door, hand inches from the handle and latch. He worried for the woman he left behind back there, worried that maybe he left something unsaid. Kira was a mystery, her past remained shrouded, but she did not sow doubt in the giant’s trust. So why did he stay? Not because he didn’t trust her, but perhaps because he worried that he only added to the growing pile of secrets upon her back. Still he had to trust that she could handle herself and he had his own duties to attend to.

Stepping back away from the door, he began back down the hallway and steps to the main hall. He noted the clarion had crescendoed before dying down, a sign that that rambunctious four-armed pirate had made his exit. As he reached the bottom step he scanned for the Sya’s cerulean scales, their blued hue catching his eye, he waved over and shouted, “Syraea! I’m off to get more firewood, I’ll get supplies from the back!” With that he made his way over the door, making sure to slam it secure as he exited.

Making his way around the building he found the dwindling cache of firewood, along with an axe and a snowcart for loading up logs. As he grabbed the tools, hoisting the cart over his shoulder, he caught a rather strange scent in the air. Sniffing for its source, something foul, sour and extremely fishy, he realized the odor was emanating from his person. He scrunched his nose and face in a recoiling gesture as he tried remembering the last time he bathed. Aside from taking a small swim in the crystal cave lake, he hadn’t visited the hot springs in quite some time. More often than not he partook in cold deep dives in the lake as a way to clean, but given recent events something warm felt warranted for the blightborn. Determined just to take a small soak, he knew there would be plenty of trees marked for cutdown further beyond the springs afterwards.

After some time making his way from the town center, Ivor found himself back at the Aelios Temple. The blightborn began approaching the front doors, but his mind flashed back to the rather severe armored woman. Ivor wasn’t exactly prepared for a chance encounter with the shieldmaiden, especially didn’t smell well enough for such an interaction. Opting to rather not deal with her ire, nor face the overwhelming pressure forcing itself upon his insides, Ivor walked around the wooden structure, bypassing the changing areas directly to the hotsprings. For the most part, all was quiet and Ivor wondered if he’d have the place to himself.

As he made his way closer to the waters, movement suddenly caught in his eye and he stilled his body as he scanned the source. Something was…swaying gently in the wind, the form seemed thin, gaunt, tall, its most distinguishing feature; bright pink trailed by hues of greens and blues. What manner of creature did Ivor stumble upon disturbing these grounds? Or perhaps it was some miserable creature so desperate for a drink it plunged itself at the first sign of water. How far did it travel? How had it survived so long, so vivid and bright? Whatever he found, it was a meal the people needed, one they deserved.

Slowly he lowered the snow cart along with his body, gentle so as not to disturb the beast. The axe in his hand he let slide down the belly of the shaft, catching it by the throat. One moment passed; then another. Like a cannon he lunged his frame forward, one long stride after another, he was quick upon it. WIth a mighty heave Ivor cleaved into the creature, one strike, twice, thrice. As Ivor assessed his work he realized there was no blood, none at all. Confused, he struck the axe to the ground and picked up the tattered remains of the ‘creature’ he had just slain. As his eyes traced the cloth in his hands, they slowly moved upwards, he grimaced at the tattered cloth hanging limply from an empty sconce.

“What is this?” Ivor asked nobody in particular as he hefted the clothing in his hand. It seemed like someone had bird feathers woven into the fabric to mimic the appearance of a creature. “Who would be stupid to run around like some kind of…boird man?”

---

_{Interacts with: Sya @PrinceAlexus; Mentions: Kira @The Muse}

Aliseth

---

Prison - external

---

Despite the recent applications of oil, Aliseth’s pristinely kept royal guard armor still clinked and scraped, hissing at him with every step. The status and security it provided-the sense of near invincibility from its layered leather and metal-did little to balance out the discomfort.
Unlike most, who would sleep in theirs if allowed, Aliseth had recently taken to wearing it only when absolutely necessary.

This was one of those occasions.
Not for its protective function, but purely for its aesthetic and symbolic value. He was little more than a display of Lunarian might.

Rumor had circled of a renowned Aurelian metallurgist-enchanter visiting this forsaken arse end of the earth. Aliseth had vowed to see what that man could do about his cumbersome attire, Stuck up sun lover or not.
Of course, there were always other means of ridding himself of it—means that edged closer to reality with every degrading duty, such as today's glorified babysitting. He had given up too much to be belittled like this.

Putting the armor on had taken longer than the walk to the prison and had required aid from his new fox-sitting assistant. The lonely odd guard was highly susceptible to orders and rarely asked questions, qualities Aliseth found both incredibly useful.
Still, all complaints about the armor and that strange man vanished from his mind the moment he saw them.

Four Aurelian Royal Guards stood outside his destination, still as sentinel statues. Four of them!
The sight filled him with unexpected dread. 'Who could be inside to warrant such a presence?'
His eyes narrowed as he looked again. A lone Lunarian guard stood among them, amongst the opposing pillars of steel and iron, conversing with—

- The princess.

Aliseth’s sure stride faltered. He almost stumbled, the surprise hitting him like a blow to the gut.
'What? Here. Why?'
He didn’t have time to understand. He walked on, chin lifted, shoulders squared. Confidence worn like his second skin. His true armor.

The last time he had seen her, it was the back of her head disappearing into the darkness as she fled.
His gaze instinctively scanned the gathering again. No sign of Elara. The thought flitted through his mind, already dissolving as the Aurelian guards turned, all eyes locking onto him.

One stepped forward, chin raised in silent command to halt.
Even the falling snow seemed to obey, pausing with him, giving way to a heavy, notable silence.
Even without his psychic magic, Aliseth could feel it—hostility radiating from the Aurelian’s fiery gaze. Even if hidden in his gaze alone.

It was not surprising, not compared to finding the princess here. Only the most faithful and devout were chosen as royal guards. That meant they had spent their entire lives being told who the true enemy of their ward was.
And no matter recent orders, shifting alliances, or even iron discipline, that hatred and training was hard to forget.

_{Location: On the streets of Dawnhaven, slowly on the way towards the hot springs
Mentions: Desmond @Theyra, Ivor @Beard Dad, Sya @PrinceAlexus}

---

That had been a refreshing change! No superfluous nobles to be seen anywhere and more discipline in spite of none of the participants nominally be a soldier, quite contrary what had happened the evening before.

Valthyr held the two liquor bottles in his hand, half-absentmindedly weighing their potentially hefty content. It probably had enough alcohol for it not to freeze even if left standing outside in the next blizzard that might haunt this place, but that fact only reminded him to remain cautious. Moonshine... the name invoked an utter void in his memory, the decision not to talk to anybody about his educational gap in terms of Lunarian culture being a quick one to make. Or was this a local brew, or maybe one that could only be made since these special stellar circumstances had come into existence ?

He would open the first of the bottles later. The risk of just a gentle sip already tipping him over was manageable he deemed, given his rather hulking size, but there was the matter of discipline again: Accelerating one of the most intrinsic and yet ubiquitous processes of nature, the one of growth, was a matter that was performed best with the clearest and most well rested of minds. He needed to attend to his future house for a short while longer until he could leave it to its own devices for a good night's sleep or so.

Also, what would Desmond say if he'd arrive at the merchant's home to accept the generosity of having a room there while already bearing the scent of a drunkard ? No no, he would keep the liquor with him untouched until later this evening. Maybe Desmond would be happy to have a drink with him together ? Then at least, if things came to worst, they'd have an enjoyable team effort at sprinkling the floor with reverse produce before having a headache some time later.

As Valthyr guided his steps towards the pompous residence of Flynn's self-declared bestest friend, he once more realized in just how much of a dire need the place was for some compensation for that unbearable building. A few days tops he figured, then things would have improved a lot! He only needed to make sure he wouldn't end up living in the epicentre of the residence's exhaust. No matter whether that dipshit burned diamonds to heat his place, smoke was still smoke.

The runes he had started were still there, albeit covered in a fresh layer of snow he had to remove again carefully in order to know where exactly he had left off. As he continued drawing, nothing seemed to happen. Just intricate lines carved into the dirt, seemingly fragile and almost random in direction and width. Yet Valthyr knew better, he could feel that the process already started to focus the lingering energy of its surroundings. The winter was cold, but it was not that cold for that not to work anymore. It was invisible still, but that would change in a couple of hours and not only due to a common seed budding way too fast.

Hopefully the condensed lump of arrogance wouldn't come around and trample it while it was still small and fragile. Valthyr hoped for more snow to fall at the thought as that would act as a protective layer in terms of both warmth and sight.

The druid wanted to stick to the promise he had made: manufacture a new chair for the lamia named Sya. He needed to find the man named Ivor, but where to start ? Should he turn raven and have an easy time watching the streets from above or should he stay human and try his chances with talking to random individuals ?

Random individuals it was. Hadn't everything begun at some lovely hot springs he had dipped his bird head in ? Maybe that was a good place to start.

_{Location: Outside the Temple of Seluna}

---

---

Céline watched as the young woman seemed to assess her response, a contemplative look on her face. The air was quiet around them, her ears twitched at every subtle sound that permeated the treeline. Patiently, intently, she waited; all the while her amethyst orbs reflected the visage of the handmaiden back at her.

“You handled yourself just fine.”

For the second time today, Céline found herself caught off guard by unwarranted commentary, her eyes widening. It wasn’t the comment itself that took Céline by surprise, even without reaching out she could tell it was not an insipid platitude. She had only met a few people since coming here, but each of them held a genuine forthrightness and a willingness to lay bare their truths, just as she shared hers with them.

The blightborn didn’t expect the treatment to last forever, not every encounter would begin with pleasantries nor truths. To be treated though as if she was someone, not just some monster, it filled her with hope and a determination that she’d made the right decision to pursue a life here. The thought made her smile, “Thank you,” she nodded in return, “I’m just trying my best.”

Her ear twitched again as Orion shifted position, causing the snow to softly crunch beneath his boot. A subtle reminder of his presence here, but one that found her drawing parallels between himself and the white haired maiden before her. Both carried themselves with an air of poise and grace befitting their station; rather they carried their burdens well. While Elara was far less stoic than her guide, she also seemed to hold the wellspring of her emotions together; at least on the outside. There was a turmoil bubbling within, loss and regret, the source made all the more apparent as she revealed to have witnessed the murder.

Céline’s hand had made its way to the strap of her satchel, gripping onto the aged leather tightly as her thumb absentmindedly stuttered over the tacky material. Her mind raced with the new revelation, finally understanding Orion’s hesitancy upon revealing the death. This wasn’t just about the wrong person almost getting killed or potentially a full coffer being left unattended. The attack yesterday was on one of the very minds and visions behind Dawnhaven itself. A man died to protect that vision, to protect the woman in front of her and for the briefest of moments Céline thought she heard a scream. She didn’t even want to think of what the potential repercussions towards her could have been had the princess fallen.

Céline pushed the thoughts away as Elara continued to speak, it wasn’t long after that Orion broke the silence behind her and voiced his opinions. Each one had their own strong view points on Abel’s death, each one struck their own chord within Céline. “I think…both of you are right in your own ways.” She turned herself so as to look at Orion, a soft, sympathetic smile on her face before turning back to Elara. “Death is always too much, even for me and no matter how many times I see it, I’m never prepared for it.”

Céline’s hands clasped together, her fingers interlocking as she processed what she wanted to say, “I won’t say I know what’s going through your head, but I think I somewhat understand how you’re feeling. You say you never got the chance to know him, but I think…instead he gave you that chance to know him.” Céline started walking forward slowly, “what I mean is…you could have just written his death off, another number in service to another noble…but you didn’t.” She stopped a few feet in front of the two of them, “Even if you might never really know him, the fact you want to speak more volumes than I think you realize.”

Close enough like this now she felt Elara’s emotions a little more vividly; there was a sorrow at the man’s loss of life, but that wasn’t the only loss there. More importantly she felt the tether between Elara and the raven haired handmaiden, a shared grief that bound them together. Céline’s eyes met the other woman’s behind the veil and she proffered a friendly smile to her.

“This place…doesn’t have to be one where people are forgotten,” She turned partway around to face Orion, “What if Dawnhaven is a place where all who come can be remembered, where it doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor, human or blightborn, whether you sacrificed something or simply existed.” She turned some more, eyeing a nearby and wide tree she started walking towards it. Once in front of its trunk she lowered herself down, unsheathing a small knife from her boot she stood at full height and started carving into the wood. Slowly the words took shape, line after painful dragging line.



Stepping back away from the tree where Céline examined her work and spoke up, “We can start it here, a monument to the fallen…a reminder to those who remain.” She stared at the freshly carved wood, blade absentmindedly twirling in her hands. “A place where anyone can be remembered…no matter what,” she whispered to herself.

---

_{Interacting with: Elara, Orion @Qia, Ramnoa @enmuni}

---

Location Temple of Seluna then to outside the temple.

---

After a while, the Lunarian citizens who had gathered in reverent prayer to Seluna began to disperse, returning to their daily tasks. Evelyn remained seated, a subtle weight of contemplation resting upon her mind as thoughts of Sir Abel surfaced. The memory of his tragic death flickered in her mind like a candle's fleeting flame, illuminating the stark reality of how easily one could be plucked from this world and enveloped by eternal sleep. It sent a shiver racing down her spine, a chill that made her acutely aware of her own mortality.

“Excuse me, miss, are you cold?” A small, bright voice pierced through her reverie, drawing her attention back to the present. Evelyn turned to see a young child, his face etched with concern, watching her intently.

"A little, but thankfully I have my cloak to help keep me a bit warmer." She replied softly, pulling the collar of her deep indigo cloak up to her cheeks, letting out a small, melodic hum. The boy's worried expression melted into a giggle, but he was soon called away by his parents, leaving her with the lingering warmth of innocence.

With a sigh, Evelyn rose, her legs protesting slightly against the wooden bench's rigid surface. Standing upright, she smoothed her dress, brushing away the creases that had formed. Even as she prepared to leave the temple, her eyes wandered to the nearby table, where a figure lay shrouded beneath a large, white cloth. An unexpected wave of sorrow washed over her, tugging at her heartstrings. She had not known the deceased personally, yet the grim reality that no soul deserved such a fate weighed heavily upon her. “May you find rest, sir.” She whispered softly, an offering of peace before she began her journey toward the exit, steeling herself against the crisp outside air.

As she walked, her footsteps echoed against the cold stone floors, a rhythmic reminder of her presence. She had a plan for the day. Once the customers’ orders had been fulfilled and the garments passed into eager hands, she contemplated her plan to assist the guards patrolling Dawnhaven with her unique gift. The proposed enchantments would only extend to undershirts and trousers, or skirts she was, after all, a courtier and not a blacksmith, confined to a realm of fabric rather than metal.

With her chin cradled in her palm, she pondered the idea, feeling it stir with promise, but she realized she hadn’t truly interacted with the higher echelons of Dawnhaven for quite some time. Her time in Dawnhaven had revolved around the walls of her compact shop, a sanctuary of her crafting. The moment she stepped into the biting cold, it struck her like a sudden slap, rousing her senses and snapping her from her thoughts.

The world outside began to come alive as voices drew nearer, each note and timbre blending into a lively chorus. Among the sounds, she discerned four figures approaching: three women and a man. Lifting her gaze, she took in the captivating sight before her. One woman possessed a warm tan complexion, her hair intertwined with shades of amber and chestnut, and two delicate rabbit ears sitting atop her head; if not for their life-like twitches, Evelyn might have thought them mere illusions. Her amethyst eyes shimmered with an otherworldly glow, marking her as Blight-born.

Beside her stood another woman with a cascade of snow-white hair that flowed like a silken river, contrasting beautifully against her porcelain skin. Another figure had deep, ebony hair. And lastly, there was the strikingly handsome man, with features that held an elegance that made Evelyn blink in surprise, catching her momentarily off guard. So much off guard that she lost her footing and almost fell over, thankfully she was able to quickly avert disaster. Her cheeks now that same hue of red as her hair, panic etching her features as she she began to pant in fear. After a few moments, she regained her breathing, then kindly thanked the gods for her Lunaris heritage and having to deal with snow at least ninety per cent of their lives.

---

Mentions: Ramona @enmuni Elara, Orion @Qia Celine @Beard Dad

Halcyon sat down on the floor, crossing his legs and placing his both hands on top of his lap. His eyes closed momentarily, then opened to stare right back at Flynn.

"Why keep me in here? When all it does is waste your resources and give the wolf chasing after the princess one less option of whom to give chase after…" He raised his left hand, holding up one of his fingers.

"Why send me to the Aurelian king, when all it does is putting everyone here at risk and that very king himself. In chess, all pieces on the board may checkmate the king if the right conditions are met. A king cannot afford rumors to spread. Lest new claimants to his wretched throne may spring up like crocuses, and he will have no choice but to silence anyone whom may or may not have heard anything about it. Rest assured, little brother. I do not crave that bloodstained throne of his." He added and held up two fingers now, smirking slightly as he pondered on the absurd idea of claiming the Aurelian throne. He couldn't afford to even entertain such folly thoughts.

"Kill me? Of course you could try that. However... I did not come to Dawnhaven unprepared. Another be within these walls ready to take my mantle should my end come sooner rather than later. Revenge is a thing we have inherited. It's in our blood. Red Star. We may of course try repel this nature of ours or fall to distractions, no doubt your own blood boils as you think of the one who attacked the princess. We are not so different are we? You are an equally bold one to leave her in the hands of those guards. What she needs is not guards watching over her. What she needs is a teacher. Of will and skill. Might and magic." He held up a third finger. "I may provide her with such, if she'd be willing." He said softer then proceeded.

"So you claim that it was by your hand that Dawnhaven was formed? Hahah... that would mean you have done a far graver offense than I towards Aurelia. While indeed it can be a potential bait for Lunaris, it can cut in both directions. Perhaps it ought to be you sitting behind these bars?" He smiled in a genuinely amused manner.

"We are here because each one of us have hope for the future. Some call it fate, that it is preordained, that all things are attached and given a role to play from the moment they are born to the day they die. That the divine or otherwise decide it all. I argue against that with my entire being, It is the choices we make, life is a choice and each action we do has a reaction. This is known as destiny. Where we forge our future from our choices. Even a man as myself have a part to play, the role that I have chosen for the great play we find ourselves in." Halcyon moved his gaze away from Flynn, to stare at the wall behind Flynn, as if there were someone standing there next to him.

"One may presume many a thing. I don't presume to know you, but I do catch quite the bit by how you speak.. how you move... how you react... it does paint a picture. While you on the other hand presume that millions will die because of the blight. Leela and Kira, two blightborn within Dawnhaven. Are they dead or alive? The blight has made discerning which is which quite harder no? Here's my take at it. As long as your will is your own and you are able to act according to it. Then you are alive. So are you willing to sacrifice all of the blightborn within and outside of Dawnhaven to restore the world to how it were? Have all those whom came here for shelter and gave you their aid be rewarded with destruction? You gaze back at the past, but the past cannot ever be changed!" Halcyon rose up from his sitting position, picking up some stale cracker and throwing it against the nearby wall.

"If you compare the miseries upon the world with that of a dream of the past, then you will never ever wake up, but only wish to indulge yourself in that dream forever. It isn't that different from a bard's tune or the sweet poison served at the inns!" He raised his voice, pointing an accusing finger at Flynn, then he lowered his arm and assumed a more relaxed stance.

"There are no guarantees in life, not all of us are going to make it all the way. Yet have faith in mankind. We are still here. Surviving as before. If you care for the afflicted ones, if you indeed want to remove the source of the blight from this world and save everyone, the princess and yourself, then there's only one pathway for you to go and that pathway leads you right into a clash with Aelios herself. Replace her as a god." Halcyon lowered his voice and then walked up to the bars.

"Your child? One ought to not leave a child an orphan indeed. Some would be amazed at the length a parent would go to protect their offspring from harm. At the cost of their own health." Halcyon said in an eerily soft tone of voice, blowing some air through his mouth and throwing a glance to the wall behind Flynn.


"...the stone glimmered in the sun, in the fields of alraune, the lynx beheld it from afar, so that the golden door of the future would be kept ajar... A precious gem of the feline foe. An oath sworn in blood upon it's back, to ward it from all attack." The blonde began to hymn then turned around to face away from Flynn.

"You've ought to go and protect your other half aswell, little brother. Make haste. I did not have that luxury nor time. I am the ally of the blightborn and Dawnhaven, but I am the mortal enemy of Aelios and Auric. Nothing can change that. Not even the precious stone itself with all the curative powers it holds." The blonde narrowed his eyes to slits and turned around, his mouth forming into a smile, his blonde hair swaying from side to side.

@The Muse

It was a lovely morning, day, evening or night. Claret had no idea which, he had been taught that the sun went up... and then came down. He was certain there were something about directions too. But thinking about it would waste valuable time better used to obtain the three reasons to live. Booty... and he could have sworn there were two more reasons.

The hatless man made his way to exit the doorway when an orange haired woman passed him by. It was one of the women that had earlier given him that predatory look.

She wanted him. The scoundrel gave a cheeky grin to the thought, why had the goddessses made him so damn irresistable?

'Tha wanted posters are roight. Me be feckin' craved. Shite.' He thought but his mind went to other things as he felt a familiar feeling, as if he was standing on his ship again. He was swinging left and right, but he kept his balance. No wait. He wasn't the thing moving, neither were he. It was the orange haired woman's-

Stern. That's what you called it on a ship.

He felt nostalgic, not only did it remind him of being on the swaying ship and facing the salty rain and wind, it was also motivating him about keeping eyes on what truly mattered.

'Booty ahoi!' He mentally chanted and before he knew he was starting to follow her. No wait. He had to meet royalty and make a good first impression. The man stopped in his tracks and licked his hands, then dragged both hands along his hair back.

'Lesse... if me were a spoiled royal lad or lass, where would me be findin' meself?' He pondered and looked around, spotting a tower in the distance.

He recalled the book he had read about the princess being locked away in the tower. He had not really read it back then, he had just looked at the drawings. But it had sparked his interest in pursuing gentle-piratey scholarly ways. So he could both write and read all the romance involved living such a risky pirate life.

What were he doing again? Ah yes. It was the tower. Of course the royals would be staying there. Where else would a princess be? He had already climbed up one once, and ran from a ton of guards. A sense of nostalgia washed over him, those were the days of his youth. Two years ago.

Before he knew it, the enticing swaying before him had vanished. A sense of loss washed over him, it was a step worse that a wave of saltwater.

The alchemy tower came into view.

'Feck. It be shaped just like me- oh well look a' tha' a perfectly placed windo'. Nothin' screams competence like makin' a dramatic entreh.' He dashed from hiding place to hiding place, getting closer to the building. He could already see the scene in his mind. Standing in the window and lighting struck. Lightning? It was snowing. Somehow he would have to inprovise the dramatic entrance. Like wrapping a cloak around himself and then reveal himself, causing the princess to instantly fall in love with him. Then the prince and he would strike up a friendship as blood brothers, and then duel to win the princess heart. The stuff of legends. Yes. His body was ready. But was the alchemy tower?

Aurora Halliwell

Eye of The Beholder
At the Inn

For breakfast, Aurora enjoyed a plate of deliciously cooked sausages, perfectly fried eggs with fully cooked yolks, and flavorful tomatoes that balanced both sweet and savoury notes. She also had two slices of toast on the side, accompanied by a refreshing cup of peppermint tea that hit the spot. As she ate, Aurora noticed some other patrons nearby chatting about their plans for the day.

After finishing her breakfast, she quickly made her way back upstairs to her room. Upon opening the door, she saw Salem, as usual, sprawled on her bed with his fluffy belly facing the ceiling. A small giggle escaped her throat as she looked at her lazy boy. She knew if she had brought up some bacon or sausage for him, he would be at her feet, purring and rubbing his soft fur against her shins.

Upon closing her door, she walked over to the table. She drew in a deep breath before sitting at her apothecary desk. Browsing through one of the main drawers, Aurora pulls out a journal. The journal was old and had a worn, leather-like texture; the spine of the book was even a little crooked. The front of the journal didn't have anything special. Gently, Aurora brushed her fingers across the journal before turning a page. She was careful as if it were fragile and would break at her touch. She remembered how her parents had given her the book, along with some tips and guides on how to prepare herbal tonics and salves.

How many times had Aurora gone over this book in front of her, and how many times had she read it from cover to cover? In truth, she lost count years ago. But there were a lot of empty pages for her to add her findings and her own research on herbalism and healing. Another breath escaped her lips as she looked out the window, gazing at the night sky, as if praying to her parents. With a flick of a match, she lit a small candle on her desk; with the candle flames lighting the desk and the area, Aurora began to work.

Hours passed, and her work was finally complete. Aurora stood up, stretching her arms over her head; a small but satisfying click came from her back after the arms stretched, and she stretched her legs before going back to the desk. She picked up the fruits of her labour. A vial of clear liquid. Next to the vial was a sealed jar of ointment. With her work complete, she grabbed a small satchel and carefully placed the vial and jar into a separate part of the satchel from where she would regularly. Grabbing the rest of the other vials and tonics, she placed them in the secure place where they usually go. Once ready, she padded over to the bed, Salem still curled up fast asleep.

All this cat does is eat and sleep. She thought to herself before petting Salem on her head. As if knowing she was going out, Salem let out a loud purr to her touch, then settled back to normal slumber.

Once out into the hallway, she quietly closed the door to her room, padding her way downstairs to find Sya.

The main area of the inn had fewer people around; perhaps she stayed upstairs a bit longer than she originally intended, ignoring it. Aurora’s gaze swept the main hall, looking for its owner. Then she spotted her, talking with two males. She didn't know the two, given their appearance and how they held themselves, they could be important. It didn't waver her slow advance to them. Within speaking distance. Aurora cleared her throat.

“Excuse me, Ms Sya.” She politely spoke while going through her satchel ” Here is the eye drop solution you requested. The solution is quite effective; you only need to take a couple of drops twice a day.” She paused before continuing. “Also, the ointment helps keep your scales moisturised; this works the same as your eye drops; apply twice a day, and it should last you for a while.”

@Theyra Desmond, @PrinceAlexus Sya, @Fetzen Valthyr

Patience. His vast patience was running thin. Almost as thin as his waistline. That corset was indeed doing wonders for his figure.

But where in the world was the somewhat useful blonde servant girl? Surely Aelios wouldn't have left him unaided, unless… she had planned for this. The goddess had wanted him to step out and come to the realization that he would not need to yell for them. They would come to him as Aelios had clearly decided. He felt flustered. How had he missed that part? He shook his head softly turning around and pushed against the door.

It wasn't moving. 'What peasantry is this?!' His noble eyes narrowed. Another test hurled his way? The nobleman raised his head and gaze to the top of the door. That had to be it.

The nobleman reached for the handle and pulled. The door opened.

'Ah!' He mentally proclaimed his victory. You were supposed to pull. Of course. It all made sense now. He was pulling the door handle, and Aelios was pulling him in turn. He felt a sense of accomplishment for his puzzle solving skills, surely those dimwitted dirty mountain apes would have taken years to figure out how to open the door. They were after all dumber than dogs. That's why he had always prefered cats. Every noble worth his vault in gold would have at least one cat to bring to the contests. Of course he still had his horse, which had won several medals, even if the medals really belonged to the nobleman himself. It was after all because of the strict diet, training and etiquette that his horse had performed as well as it did.

Then again, much like himself, his horse came from a refined line. Albeit a hoove bearing one. The nobleman walked back into the private bath area, looking at the peacock warning parchment in his hand.

'What a dumb warning. Could it be to keep the idiotic thickheaded louts away from here? Perhaps they have some unreasonable fear for majectic avians.' He tossed the parchment to the side casually and then he stepped on something.

A feather clad thing? Was it a dead bird? He reached out with his bare foot and gave it a poke, looking down at it. That was no bird. It was a hat. It did remind him of his own, just in a far worse condition. Probably some jealous second rate noble was trying to impersonate him. He chuckled to himself. They would need all the luck in the world with that. There was alot to impersonate, and none could do it as flawlessly nor with the same grace as the original. He gave the feathery hat a kick to the side, sending it off to the other end of the bath area. Then he lifted his gaze, setting sight on what looked like a the massacre of a bird.. and then.

The nobleman took a moment to allow his noble braincells to connect in their own pace.

It was his attire. No. It were his attire. What remained of it. Some abominationable snowman was holding unto it!

"Ahh? …ahh....Aaaaahhhhh! What do you think you are doing?! YOU WALKING HAIRBRUSH! YOU LEFTOVER BEEF JERKY SHOWING UP UNINVITED!" He screamed at the top of his lungs as the realization stuck him, he had been attacked in his absence. Someone had forgotten their pet mammoth at the bath. That damn beast tamer. It had to be. He took another breath before unleashing his second barrage.

"Shoo! Go back to your cave! You constipated walrus! I've seen more charismatic rocks! Clearly evolution got bored with you and decided to skip work the day you were made! Your face is a crime scene!" Ayel spit wildly as he seethed, pointing an accusing finger at Ivor, forgetting that he was standing there in all his undressed glory. "If only ugliness were a weapon then perhaps you could have been useful! What have you to say for yourself APE?!" The nobleman grinded his teeth against each other, his face was growing red enough to steam the water from his face.

@Beard Dad

…

For Sya the natural chaos of the Inn was everyday life, much as it was stressful it was what she seemed to be good at and Sya had a home again, she was treated well by most and welcomed instead of feared. All in all, life could be far worse for the now serpentine blightborn.

She was checking her room list and making sure there were no changes. Things happened fast in this town, weird, good, bad. It never stopped. ”Whats the bakery like, do we need…”

“Already on it miss snakey boss, working on em” Came the cheerful voice of Becky as she worked in the back kitchen where the Bakery had started and was her little space. Sya used it but it was Becky's ideas that started it, and she worked hard. ”guess you not need me then!” Sya joked back as she turned to see a woman approach her, with small vials and pots in hand…oh.. her order! She forgot about that one with a 4 armed pirate trying to take her captaincy and maybe flirt with her… was he flirting. Pirating? Or just like that normally?

The rather dramatic lyrics white haired apothecary? Yes that was her, she was and she had placed an order…now Sya remembered. Of course she was taller than the small inn keeper, everyone was too tall in her opinion. ”Ves, thankyou, eye need to take care of vyself. I might have to scale the alchemy tower othervise.” Sya joked at her own features and rested a flash of blue tail tip on the counter in a lazy manner, she was strangely comfortable in her form.

”Vy just need to find sssomeone to massage it in, a nice handsome man…with abs…and a firm grip, assss promised. Zankyou. Twice day, both.” Sya joked in her normal flirty way, everyone knew or got used to the rather odd friendly inn keeper. Either that or they seemed to tolerate her… Ayel might be her first ban though.

Sya dropped a small pile of coins in promised payment and with a deft turn and staying level took a small package off a passing tray carried by a short buxom dark haired Lunarian , Becky. It was wrapped In a cheap paper but still warm, with a simple stamp the best they could make right now. “knoll Roll Bakery” and a handwritten “cookie” in a less ideal but legible hand. ”Bonusss, as i zot expect zem till later” Sya said and placed the small pack of cookies tied with cheap string. If course if she liked them the next one not be free, and Sya got a customer:)

Sya was not blind amd a rather good read of people, probably why she found this came so easily. Or least publicly did, in reality Sya was lonely and wanted to build up her own circle, a clan again of choice, friends and hopefully more fun friends.
”Dessssmond. Trader from Lunarissss, sell good price, Valthir, iz Gothi, earth….Druid he say, Aurora, she iz herb mistress, healer, one of my guesstsss. Iv you ever want to trade, vou can always leave vessage and i pass them on.” Sya patched the introductions, They might be headed out but they knew each other's names now and she might help build up the community that had formed about the Inn.

If it helped a few people make connections and of course, it never hurt Sya to foster trade, prosperity as that meant more gold to spend in her establishment. After all? Where else was there to go?

Nowhere…nope. :)

The world had been harsh to the brightborn woman, but she had a sharp eye of opportunity and was going to ensure that her good life lasted.

Mentions
@BlackRoseSiren
@Theyra Desmond, @Fetzen Valthyr

_{Location: The Hot Springs
Interacting with: Ayel Raunefeldt (@Dezuel), Ivor (@Beard Dad)}

---

Not knowing whether the this first location of his choice was the right one on his search, Valthyr was in anything but a hurry to reach his destination. There was enough time to listen to his own footsteps carving yet another path through the snow as if that one stood any chance of survival against the steady stream of icy reinforcements descending from dark skies above so relentlessly. There also was ample opportunity to ponder about whether he himself should take a bath -- a real one, not just a quick dip into the water.

However, the one puzzle far more difficult than all the others was whether there was any etiquette to follow. He had only seen the springs once upon his arrival and only so from a raven's perspective, but he remembered the sight of an adjacent building clearly standing out. Was that some sort of temple ? If common Lunarian customs happened to be quite dislocated from the center of his knowledge, then any memory about what might be appropriate and what not in a holy place of Aurelia was practically nonexistent.

He didn't even really know whether he was inadvertently approaching a temple after all and if so, which kingdom i...

[...] You constipated walrus! I've seen more charismatic rocks! [...]

A question just rendered completely irrelevant. Valthyr even felt some sort of relief inside him as he instantly knew that whatever kind of etiquette might have been appropriate at the place he was going to, it had just been shattered and broken most profoundly by someone else already. No need for himself to even try and ride a horse that was already dead anymore.

As much as he felt delighted about the signal just received, he didn't like its carrier wave. It was rough around the edges from just how much its sender had pushed his breathing apparatus for the transmission, but the characteristic was quite unmistakable still: the condensed lump of arrogance was looming ahead and it seemed more aggravated about the presence of 'peasants' than ever.

The druid's steps sped up ever so slightly without him really noticing. A sense of joy started to engulf his mindset as he hastened his approach towards what already was a verbal disaster zone. It was a somewhat irrational idea if one considered things calmly, as if pouring oil into an already raging fire hoping that it would cease burning because of overheating. Yet that was what Valthyr hoped for. Whatever was irritating this Ayel guy so much, his own presence would just double it. He wanted the man who had behaved in such an outrageous manner the day before to boil over, to completely lose control and suffer from his very own rage.

And then Valthyr meandered around the last corner blocking his line of vision towards the scene and he crawled to an almost complete stop. Was... was this Ivor ? He could only see the giant from behind, but that was quite impressive enough even though the difference in height between the two men wasn't really there. The druid's eyes also spotted the axe in hand. It didn't look as if the giant was about to attack anything, but why had he decided to draw such a sharp tool in the first place then ? Water couldn't be chopped up, could it ? Even if it was hot enough to steam in the frigid air.

A pair of naked feet barely protruded into the corner of the druid's now very focused field of vision and after a few more moments spent on Ivor's presence, he found the time to backtrack further along the legs attached to them. Was it impressive what he saw ? Not really. He could just hope that the petty man had made an effort of undoing all the perfume and creams plastered on his fragile skin before jumping into the water or everybody after him would come out more dirty than previously.

"Is there a problem ?" He addressed the noble as calmy as he could fake it, then granted Ivor a nod as a humble greeting. Valthyr did keep some distance between the two just in case for he had no clue about how the bear would react. He noticed the tattered remains of what had once been Ayel's precious clothes, but had not yet put together all the pieces in his mind.