[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/rFqmKNsx/Orion-Nightingale.png[/img][/center][hr][right][sub]Location: Seluna Temple
Interactions: Ramona ([@enmuni]), Céline ([@Beard Dad]), Evelyn ([@Echotech71]), Elara (Me) 
Mentions: N/A [/sub][/right][hr]
[indent]Orion advanced through the deep snow, his bootsteps making only soft thuds along the way. He positioned himself beside Céline, leaving a small gap to respect her space while making his presence clearly known. His focus snapped instantly to the marks cut deep into the rough tree surface before he considered the woman who had accompanied him here once more. She was a stranger, someone marked as blightborn, someone society often pushed away. Yet, here she stood, actively choosing to honour a man she never knew. Another sense of awe touched him, witnessing this act of remembrance from one the world usually ignored if not downright hated. 

“[color=#0054a6]I’ve buried people whose names never made it past the field,[/color]” he said softly. “[color=#0054a6]People who fought for something, died for someone… and were forgotten the next day because they didn’t fit the story that was easier to tell.[/color]” 

A pause, then lower and more private, he said: 

“[color=#0054a6]You carved a future, Céline. One where people like Abel don’t disappear. One where people like [i]me[/i] don’t disappear.[/color]” Which was his way of saying thanks, though he doubted she would understand the full reason behind it. 

Meanwhile, Elara had stayed just a few paces back with Ramona, letting the moment belong to the other two. However, as Orion’s words about burying those he’d cared for settled into her mind, something powerful stirred within her, too. A quiet resolve solidified, pushing her forward. She took a step, then another, the sound seeming loud as she closed the distance, stopping near them but not intruding.

“[color=royalblue]May I?[/color]” she asked quietly, looking toward Céline, not assuming permission but requesting it with care. “[color=royalblue]There’s another name I don’t want to vanish...though she’s no longer with me.[/color]”

When the knife was offered, Elara accepted it using both hands, cradling the tool as if it were a sacred object borrowed from a holy shrine. Her fingers closed firmly yet gently around the hilt as she turned towards the massive tree, its bark deeply grooved and rough under her light touch. Her fingertip traced a small, blank space directly beneath the freshly carved name of Sir Abel.

And with the placement feeling right, she slowly and carefully began to carve her mother’s name as penance for [i]her[/i] forgetting. 

[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/P57M8TDM/e49f0d0b0d77fb5ac66c80beec788122.png[/img][/center] 

A sudden crunch of snow behind them snapped Orion’s attention away just as the handmaiden was finished. He saw the flailing limbs, the near fall, and the redhead managing to catch herself just before hitting the snowbank. Her face immediately flushed a deep, mortified red, Orion able to recognize the panic in her eyes and the embarrassment radiating off her. He took one automatic step towards her and stopped. Then, his voice cut cleanly through the awkward silence that followed her stumble, dry but not unkind. 

“[color=#0054a6]Careful,[/color]” he stated. “[color=#0054a6]The only thing worse than being remembered for the wrong reason… is being remembered first for it.[/color]” He let a beat pass, allowing the rare gentle humour to hopefully ease the sting of her embarrassment. Then,  he asked, “[color=#0054a6]You all right?[/color]” as he watched her, ready to offer a hand if needed, but giving her space to recover.
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