Daphne turned away as the Royal family left and shuddered as she walked to the Jail door, the heavy iron latch and thick wood feeling the effect of the runes already. Those Runes that made her feel so… wrong.

Closing her eyes and pushing it open Daphne stepped into the space she so disliked and looked over to see Kain examining their guest, running against the iron bars that held the captive. Young lady, really? That earned a glare from her Purple eyes and the fact she was probably able to take him down, at distance. No. But if she closed inside his guard with her shorter blades and speed she might get the drop on him.

”Sure old man, they are good crackers, and gruel that's got some meat in it. You want breakfast too while I'm little miss Squire? He loves to talk by the way.” Daphne said she would have to go to the Inn for decent food, anything more than crackers and own snacks was what they only had. Squire yes, she was used to this but still… He was not her chosen family she served, Daphne had preferences who she helped.

”Have to go to the Eye, we got frak all, bill it to Volkov, I prefer to spend my gold on Priestess Lunch.” Daphne said and leaned against the wall with an ease and a flash of purple as she kept an eye on her surroundings. Daphne did realize it would get her a break from this place and she could enjoy some of the heat at the Inn, great? The small fire here they had stoked in a small burner was not great and kept the place warm enough to not die but not warm enough to feel comfortable.

Daphne just hoped he did not overly agitate the Prisoner.

"I didn't eat the cracker, I am after all not a parrot taught to mimic things or hymn a tune others have chosen for me. I chirp an entirely different song than those you may be familiar with. I only bite those whom stray a tad bit too far, even if much of my bite are verbal in nature, such can still find it's mark. Good thing you have that little piece of metal as a crutch to rely upon, a true man however need not that to defend himself." Gadez mouth formed into a mocking smile, his blue eyes clearly showing his amusement, his gaze momentarily wandered to Daphne as she entered.

”That's what men always say, when they're not holding the sword.” Aliseth retorts with a bemused chuckle, eyeing the sharp edge of his blade.

"It does not strike me as oddity that you have not heard of this name of mine, for all you hear is the voice of the princess, is it not?" The blond man stepped slightly closer, his hand still located at his waist.

The Lunarian Royal guard gives a faint shrug, not turning his focus.

"As for what king? Does it matter?" He tilted his head to the side. "Both are kings only in name, noble only in name, just only in name. In action they are both worse than a wolf seeking to devour a princess whole. For they desire to devour the world itself and everyone else with it. Such is their hunger. Such is their greed. Do you know why this place exists? It is an elaborate trap to lure the northern kingdom into attacking it, for whom would let preying wolves exist in their backyard? Fear is a powerful weapon. The blightborn are viewed akin to that." He moved over to one of the walls of his cell and traced his fingers along it.

"One may shape stone in many a way, yet in the end... stone is simply stone. Humankind is not so different. We are all different stones. Some harder, some softer, some glimmers, some do not. But to satisfy your curiosity, Auric is the one I seek. One ought to be wary with curiosity, it has slain many a grimalkin. Then again... so have a lynx." The blue-eyed man blew some air through his mouth as his eyes momentarily went from Aliseth to Daphne.

"By all means girl, do not let my presence dissuade you from having your dinner here. Perhaps you will learn a thing or two. Go on, hurl any question my way, I have the answers. Perhaps the answers you've sought for a lifetime." The warrior-monk gave a soft smile before he blew the dust he had collected with his hand from the stone wall.

”Sounds just like any other king to me.” This time he couldn't even be bothered shrugging along with his nonchalant, unfazed reply. ”And I suppose, you think, your prince will do better?”
Now his interest was caught and he raised his judging eyes back upon the prisoner. A mocking smirk waiting on his lips.
”Wait, are you in love with him or something?”

"Not the kind of words one would expect from a watcher of the princess. Whilst Flynn certainly has inherited many traits from his originator, such as greed. A man who craves the past, gets lost in it. While he may claim to champion a future, if it looks like the past, then it's simply just that. To return the world to how it was? That will solve nothing, it will not change human nature, like the blight itself has done. As for Flynn himself? I love him in a way only a brother could. Hah. " Gadez softly laughed as his gaze wandered between Aliseth and Daphne.

Daphne gave a glare at girl remark, she should let it slide but after Kain and the lunch remark, plus girl and her frustration at being assigned to guard a man who could talk his way into a jail in Dawn Haven… Well a woman had a limit. ”If you want real food, and those crackers will look mighty tasty in a few days, well you will say thankyou Squire Athena.” Daphne said, she was on other side of bars and the one not stuck by his own lack of a silver tongue.

Her surname did not matter to anyone but her, she was an Orphan, an Foundling. The badge she wore mattered, Lord Coswains household badge, one she was given and adopted into. ”That stuff makes the sisters of Selene look like palace chefs. You want stew, meat, bread, anything in particular?” She turned to face Guard Kain deliberately to make the food sound especially tempting. This man wanted to give her a headache, she could make his stomach growl.

While technically got messy on ranks and fact Daphne was on a different unit, household and so. She could put up with being a Squire if it got her a hot meal.

Guard Kain flashed her something that could perhaps be interpreted as a soft approving smile.

“Whilst the offer is indeed kind, I shall pass on the food, for it is far greater to hunt when hungry. And I do have quite the bit of hunting to do…” Gadez mused softly as he wandered in his cell, his arms moving in a dramatic manner, as if he were performing on a stage in front of hundreds of onlookers.

“Speaking of hunting, I imagine that the hunt for the princess little attacker, ‘the boy’ is going well? All one truly needs to do is provide enough bait and wait for it to take it. Perhaps arrange a feast it cannot simply refuse? Well… unto matters at hand. The prince. Flynn. Does not hold the key that is needed for opening the door to Dawnhaven’s future. Rather he bears the banner of the southern kingdom, in his father’s name and the clergy which backs it. I cannot serve such a prince. Pray tell, what is it that you both truly wish for with this place? This place is the beacon of hope, hence why all of us are gathered here for one thing or the other. Because it offers something, which no other place in the world can. Hope.” He smiled and tilted his head to the side.

Aliseth's heavy armor clunked as he leant back against the wall and let out a bored sigh, the tip of his sword stabbing the ground as he twirls it aimlessly by its hilt.
”You don’t strike me as a hunting man Gadies.” He says aloud, not hiding his thoughts at all. ”But by all means, I'm sure after a couple of days a rat or roach is bound to crawl into your cage. It will make for a splendid hunt, I only regret that I will not be present to witness it.”

"Looks may be deceiving, take it from someone who has mastered the mask. See the world as a stage, however if you cannot discern whose an actor and whose not. Then you are certainly in deep waters. A pest has already entered. As you are here. Fret not that you will miss anything, I shall keep in mind that you wish to witness things. Perhaps it will be an enlightening experience." The blond man said in a mocking tone of voice, finding amusement in Aliseth's choice of words. If only Zephyros or Elio had been as talkative, but he couldn't be picky. After all he had work to do. Despite appearances.

Aliseth then lazily turns his attention to Daphne. ”Our guest here may not require any food, as he is most certainly already full… of something.” He gives a slight chuckle, having amused himself. ”but I most definitely need to eat. Especially if I am to endure this for all of my waking hours. I think I'll eat right here too. Would you be so kind as to retrieve the best, most freshest and juiciest meal the tavern has to offer.”
There was a new pleasantry in the way he articulated it as a request, even though it wasn't. But it was a step up from a barked order so there was that, evidence that he was softening or at least trying.

Then, as if only just hearing Gadez’s words, the royal guard tilted his head and looked up thoughtfully. ”Hmmm, hope.” He ponders for a moment. Moving the word around in his mind like a jigsaw piece, seeing if it fits the bigger picture. His face expressed that he was neither swayed one way or the other.
”Hope, you say, is why we’re here. I’ve heard that before… but hope is just a word we wrap around sharper things." he says, getting a little poetic in his tone. A faint grin taking his lips as he engages in the philosophical.
”People don’t leave their homes, cross worlds, and risk everything for something as soft as hope. They do it for greed. For fear. For a hunger they can’t name. For the chance—just the chance—that their own skin will see another dawn. Of course they hope to succeed… but that’s not why they came. Hope is the cloth we throw over the blade, so we don’t have to look at what’s really driving us." He raised his sword and looked down its edge as he pointed it challengingly at the prisoner.

"I am indeed full, but not of anything you can conjure up. Not in this world, not in any world. Hope is the all-encompassing thing, for greed is simply a hope for wealth that is never sated. Fear is in all things which walk upon this world, for without it, they would not walk no more. It wards you as much as it harries you, like water may bear a ship, it can also sink it. A bit to keep you alive, drink too much and you'll drown. Fear is akin to that. People hope to evade it still, much like they hope to elude death, yet it always comes for all things. It doesn't mean hope isn't there. Beings have always had hunger, regardless of which form it takes, yet why do we eat? Not simply because we have to in order to live, when death is also an option. But because you hope to find the treasure at the end of the rainbow, the door at the other end of the maze of life. Anything else that you may try to shroud with, do it at your own discretion, but do it, knowing you are wrong." Gadez smiled widely as Aliseth pointed the sword towards him, the warrior-monk was pleased with the turn of events during the day, it had been a very productive day. Things had been sprung into motion, and all he needed to do now was to await to see which path to take. Yet the game had always been rigged. For he only played games he couldn't lose. Gadez 'view wandered slightly to the side of Daphne.

Without turning his steely gaze, Aliseth adds. ”Guard Daphne, before you go. I would have your thoughts? And what hope do you have for dawnhaven and yourself?” Finally lowering his blade back to the ground he twists his head ever so slightly, just enough so he can catch her in the corner of his eye.

"By all means, heed this man's command and fetch him a plate. I am certain that sword of his will have to suffice for cutlery. Just make sure the food isn't rare, he doesn't look like he could stomach it. Take it at face value." He snickered and his gaze set on a third person he thought he could see against the wall opposite of his cell, then his eyes set on Aliseth again. 'A sword is often double-edged. So am I.' The blond man mused in his head waiting to see what Daphne would do.

Daphne had to tune out a lot of what Gadez was going on about, her mind was already not liking being in this place, yet alone him talking her into a migraine. Food, yeah. Daphne could do the food run, it got her some chance to stretch her legs properly too. The Jail was not exactly built around the concept of comfort and leg room for the taller woman.

Daphne was trying to keep up with what was going on but she drew somewhat of a blank and just nodded along, the man talked too much and her guard partner seemed to be enjoying goading the man. Or was he being goaded? Persephone Had taught her and taught her a fair few things but this philosophy debate she doubted even her Lady could fully break down without needing a little time to think it over.

”Me…My hopes?” Daphne paused and ran a hand down her braid as she thought. ”4 edges, much faster. You missed one puppet man.” Daphne replied to Gadez 'comment about double edges gesturing to the pair of Lunarian short blades she wore and to buy time to contemplate the answer.

”If you really want to know? Dawn Haven? If it lives, we live, it successfull… wr have a future..plus, well.. even if our hopes come true, light returns. Blight born still exist, no one welcomes them back, let them keep the place. They leave us alone. We leave it alone and can focus the remaining resources we do have on our people's needs and resettlement of our lost lands. ” Daphne admitted, she could see some people's ideas but blightborn were fearsome foes at times and this war had cost many lives. Maybe they should let them have this place far from anywhere and rebuild instead.

Daphne thought about what she wanted, One answer was less she wanted to give away especially in front of a prisoner. ”My.. hope…” She said adjusting a armour strap that slipped a little. ”Somthing…more. And I'm working on the company part.
” Daphne said with a laugh.

”Serve my family, kiss someone better looking than you two. Cadian Temple foundling. Took the hard road here. Hope was not often in the sister's of Selene alms bowl.” Daphne said with a glint of steel in those usually alert but relaxed violet eyes.

”You want ale with the food?” Daphne asked as she looked over to her boss of the moment. Though her eyes and posture did show she was not some whelp straight from the training grounds.

Daphne’s reply about kissing got a slight chuckle from the Lunarian royal guard. ”Should be an easy task, I mean there's a reason we occasionally wear face covering helmets, and it's not for protection.” He continues on, playfully mocking himself despite, while perhaps not being everyone’s cup-of-tea, still being far from unattractive.
”There used to be a joke that only the ugliest guards got sent to guard the queen so as to not create temptation.”
He smiles softly at an old memory.

Standing up straight he replies with a soft shake of his head.”No ale for me. So, you actually believe in all that prophecy jargon?” He asks, sounding a bit surprised. Kinda makes my job of protecting the princess a little difficult. Think if those two make a child then sacrifice themselves Aelios will suddenly put the sun back up in the sky? And then what,everyone can just go back home and give the town over to the monsters. Hmmm. That would be interesting. A third power ruled by neither kingdom. I guess the royal orphan could rule it. Doesn't matter anyway, even if she was already pregnant I doubt most of us would live long enough to see it born. Especially if we keep wasting resources so frivolously and on people like him.” He nods to Gadez.

He thought on that for a moment but said nothing more, content and allowing for a rare silence to settle, should it not be interrupted.

Daphne faced Kain with an eye on the cell, the door was locked but for some reason she did not trust that the iron work was 100% safe with how rushed it might be. Solid yes. Not just…. Unbreakable.

”Alas, that does not get you a kiss.” Daphne said with a flash of mischief in her eyes and a small smile at teasing him. ”If you say so oh wise leader. ” Daphne replied, the fact her Lord was a Queens guard was his story to tell, his history to give or not.

The later question was larger, far deeper and more complicated but he had not done anything to call her some kind of traitor or so. ”Its… whatever did this is probably a lot bigger than we are. Not sure i can fight a Deity..” Daphne did not really know the exact details or fully understand and know how everyone and everything worked. But Daphne knew she could fight a goddess. ”Peobbly happen, this is too far to fight, its what weeks travel here… take as much food as you carry to get here.” Daphne shrugged, Coswain had done his best to teach her logistics and this place was a long way to sustain soldiers. A Knight was expected to become an officer, he was trying to set her up well.

”Cheerful thoughts. Good job I kissed and asked questions later. You should try it.” Daphne said trying to find an upside in all the bullshit, doom and gloom. She had to find something useful to carry on? Make it to the next day. plus it was fun to tease. Especially on a long boring shift.

”Guard Daphne.” He playfully scolds, ignoring anything Gadez might be saying or doing. ”If you are going to try flirt with me, please, not in front of the prisoner.” He noticed her eyeing the lock.
”It's ok, you have the only key and no one else has touched it. I'll watch, you go get food and have a break. Seluna knows you've earned it. He punctuated his words with a dramatic sigh, turning his gaze back to the prisoner.

”Sorry Getes. What were you saying? he ask Gadez, getting his name wrong, again. His blade tapping against the floor, the echoing tick counting away his boredom.

"What were I saying indeed? A man may read books all his life, but it matters not in the end if he cannot understand what is written in them. Perhaps the same applies to verbal matters, each word has its uses and meaning. Some words bear more than one even. Flirtations now? Well then again, aren't we all flirting with something. Death being the most common thing." Gadez chuckled and walked over to the stone bed in his cell. Calling it a bed might be generous. More like a slab of stone.

"You have hope girl, however one ought to not forget human nature. To fear that which they do not know, nor understand. Both olden kingdoms would never allow the existence of the blighted ones or a third kingdom, were the light to return. No. They would be hunted down and destroyed, forced beneath the earth in one manner or the other. Which would beg the question, are they content with just existing like that, or do they truly desire that which they once had… life? As for the prophecy? The clergy are the ones guilty for that one, but they do not serve Aelios no more. For she died. Hence why the skies have darkened.

So... whom do they serve now? Who answers their prayers? Perhaps the answer to that question is something many people wouldn't want to know the answer to. Humans have always craved power, to be more divine, whose to say that none would ever try to obtain said power? Greed is a powerful motivator running deep in a line of the stars. Yet as is the fate of all who crave power which isn't their own, they become consumed by it. Like the blight have driven so many to madness, forgetting whom they truly were and still are. As long as you can accept the cure.

Acceptance. For how things are. To follow the prophecy is to resign oneself to fate, rather than choosing one's path and embracing destiny." The blond man blew some air through his mouth, causing his blond bangs to flicker. "Ever considered the idea, that perhaps it is you people who are the ones in a cage? Yet unaware of it til someone opens the door..." Gadez smiled in a smug manner as he motioned with his hand as if he was pushing open an invisible door. "Soon the door will be opened... and the world that we know now, will cease to be... let us hope our dear prince is up to the role he needs to play... for this great game of light and shadow, where sacrifices may be needed." The warrior-monk laughed softly and raised his hand to his face, sliding over it from one side to the other, his expression becoming stern looking.

Aliseth sheathed his sword and then let out a loud theatrical sigh as he roll his eyes.
”I wish I never asked” He mumbled to himself as he turn towards Daphne.

”Guard Daphne, could you hurry with that food please? So maybe I could cram it into my ears and protect myself from this drivel.”

A thoughtful expression invaded the complaining satire.

”The commander must really have it in for me. Why are Lunarian forces even guarding an Aurelian traitor anyway? It's not like we care if he kills his king, and they have more forces...” His thoughtful musing drifted off, clearly occupying more thoughts than he shared.

”Someone else is on my flirting list, no offense boss.” Daphne said and a little cheekily but she nodded and braced for a headache. Gadez liked to.. talk and he talked…alot. Her brain kind of went fuzzy.

Passing him the key in case he needed to beat him unconscious or something went wrong. Food, yes. She could go for food, maybe she finds some peace out there. ”Got it, I'll leave you the key and head out. Beats me, I was cornered, you might have to do this solo.” She checked her gear and her hair in a small vanity before she went to head out with a bounce in her step.

Aliseth refused the key. ”You carry it, I don't plan on releasing him, and this way I can't be tempted to open it and stab him.” He says with a soft laugh as he follows Daphne to the door.

”Sure. You do not want to lose it. I'll be back, try not bang your head against the wall.” Daphne said and made sure the key to Jail was safe and put it in a spot that could not be easily accessed, and with a push she waved and braced for cold as she departed.

Lord and Lady Coswain

The Eye

Door Dashed.

They headed up the main road, wide compared to the others and larger, they had seemed to have worked on this little more and it was clear enough to pass despite the snow storms, the walk to town was not too far and he pointed out where the market would be, the temples and the clock. Anything else he could find, he was not a guard so not like he needed to visit the main garrison.

The sign and lights of the Inn soon came into view, the crude but clearly painted eye of the Beholder with its monstrous features, and somewhat of an inside joke…at the Inn about Sya, he reckoned she had named this place very deliberately. Saw was sharp as a tick blightborn or no, he would not underestimate that woman.

“You said you had gold.. maybe you should pay for me.., il eat later, just an ale. Throw it on the Lunaris guard account, one gesture of welcome only.” He said. “One for the Inn Vala, Sya might want to keep her eye on him.” He said having to accept he might have to deal with blightborn especially those who worked for the lady they lived under. Like, he did not have to but he was not a fool and he knew when to fight and when to pull your blade back and tolerate something for a greater cause.

The Lime green eyed blightborn with 3 small horns had taken over for Sya, short but stocky the woman was not the trifled with, her honey blonde hair cut short.

“Aye lord Coswain, eye ..eye. , indeed. coming right out soon. Pick out a room, these are taken, these are free. We take coins not credit and try not to stare at the Inn keeper.” She humorously thought she also was stern as rested on the counter.

“If you want to cause trouble you can sleep on the street, if you are blight affected, we do not judge, you have to visit the Prince or advisor before you get full citizenship as per law.” She said calmly and gestured to a map of the in and which rooms were marked as free.

“Messge for you and Lady Persephone.” She recalled, handing him a letter from the day's Post, it had the marks and seal from the Capital, it must be something for them to send a letter this far… That one went safely into a pouch and securely closed. He could read it later.

“Room 8, needs a name for the book, breakfast is usually served by yourself, but hot food is out later, guest rooms are upstairs, and 2 parlours, top floor belongs to Sya and is her private home. Any questions. We can park carriages. For an additional fee, naturally.” The green eyed blight born asked and did Sya's job while she took a well deserved break.

Lord Coswain watched as Vala did her job, she was the stern one, Sya was a flirt, Vala kept them in line when the friendly approach failed. “What brings you here? If you're after work, well, there may be a bounty yet to claim on an attacker's head if you're skilled and willing to brave danger and Prince agrees naturally. Other that, we have no shortage of need for a man willing to put in some graft. Youl have to sk post office to send you a letter of introduction unless you see himnin business. Lord Coswain, Lunaris Royal Guard.” The older guard introduced himself, he had not got any formal jobs to do and getting a feel for this newcomer seemed like a good idea.

Sword or sledge hammer. Dawn Haven needed men and women willing to persevere even when the lights and cold crept in from every corner.

@TimelessParagon

Nathaniel trailed Eris down a narrow hallway, the flickering candlelight casting shadows along the stone walls. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the soft sound of their footsteps against the stone floor. As Eris turned a doorknob, the door creaked open with a low groan, a sound that seemed to echo.

Stepping into the room behind her, Nathaniel felt a wave of curiosity over him. The space before him resembled a cosy library where shelves crammed with tomes and scattered notes sprawled across sturdy desks. With a lingering glance around the room, Nathaniel turned back to close the door, the heavy tumbler locking into place with a resounding clunk.

Nearby, a match struck. Light flared and spilled out into the darkness, briefly illuminating Eris’ solemn expression before she moved to a table in the center of the room. Quietly, she touched the flame to several candles lined along its wooden surface, until the room glowed in soft amber.

Once the door was closed, Nathaniel turned back towards the centre of this study room of sorts. His attention went more towards Eris. He was curious as to why she wanted to speak to him in private. Perhaps it has something to do with yesterday's interaction or something about the expedition that they talked about making notes. There was only one way to know and that was to ask. His heart thundered in his chest, curiosity or fear of her answer he couldn't tell. Still, he forged on to ask. “So what is the matter Eris? he speaks softly to her, waiting for her answer.

She shook out the match and set it aside, her gaze lifting to meet Nathaniel’s. “There was… something else.” Her voice came softer and more hesitant than she’d intended. “The intruder left something with the gemstone.”

Her hand slipped into her coat pocket, brushing against parchment paper. “I don’t want to alert just anyone yet, but…”

Drawing it out, she carefully smoothed it open with her fingers and made her way around the table. Stopping just before him, she offered it out, her eyes fixed on his. “Lady Rovella read it as well.”

Nathaniel looked into her eyes, the tints of amber from the lit candles made her blue eyes sparkle. It was then that he could see the weariness that she was trying to hide. The quietness was only interrupted by the sputter from the small flames that lit the candles. She stood holding out the parchment. “That is for the best, it could be dangerous for all we know.” he softly spoke.

Reaching for the parchment, his fingers brushed along her as he carefully took the parchment out from Eris' fingers. “Thank you, Eris, for trusting me with this information.” he politely said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes flicked to the parchment that he was holding.
“Do any of the other Sages know?” he asked just before he was about to read it.

Eris gave a faintest shake of her head in response, gently biting at the inner edge of her lower lip. Her gaze dipped to the letter in his hands, lingering there.

Nathaniel's brow furrowed as he read. There wasn't really much that stood out. He was almost sure that he couldn't really spot anything, then he saw two of the symbols that were drawn in the margins. “Enchantment runes… he muttered to himself. His gaze went from the parchment back to Eris who was close to him. “These sealing runes. I wonder if these symbols were somehow linked to the gemstone.”

“Perhaps these runes were actually a seal for whatever was stored inside of it perhaps. Once the gemstone makes contact with someone the seal breaks and the person gets whatever’s stored.“

Eris nodded, her brows knitting together as she turned the thought over in her mind. Her gaze drifted toward a shadowed corner of the room, unfocused, as if she could make sense of the hurried words more clearly in the dark. Nathaniel noticed how her gaze went to the dark corner of the room. He had a feeling that she was wondering if someone was hiding in the shadows. It was only natural, she only just had an intruder in her room.

“This date.” he leaned over so he was closer to her, his frame mere inches from hers. Eris blinked, the shift pulling her out from the depths of her mind, causing her to refocus on the letter. With a slight adjustment of the parchment, he angled it so the contents were towards the light allowing both Eris and himself to both see. “Were there any reports on activities that happened on this date?”

Eris glanced up, meeting his eyes. “Well… the blight-born attack was yesterday…” her voice trailed, memories of the prior day flooding her mind—the Princess, her wound, the drain of healing her, the suffocating pressure of raw, untamed magic that pulsed through the air like a living thing with a mind of its own. Then—news of a second death. The town going into lockdown. Eris hadn’t even been able to pay her respects to the two who had passed yet…

She sifted through the rest of the day, trying to find something she might have missed.

The day had begun with the celebratory feast. Her humiliating rush to bring her discovery to the Prince. Meeting Nathaniel afterward—and allowing herself that rare moment of joy on the dance floor with him. And then… the attack. Elara seeking her out. Guard Kain’s unnerving escort. Priestess Ranni stepping in where High Priestess Tia had not. Charlotte guiding her safely home.

Nothing else. Nothing she had heard, anyway.

She shook her head, frustration tightening her features. Too many pieces of the puzzle were missing.

“Did you hear of anything?”

Nathaniel was no longer looking at the parchment, no longer interested in the runes that were on it, now his attention was on Eris. He pondered her simple question, sorting through the events that he had, for her to trust him he'll have to be honest with her. “Well, after the dance we had in the inn, and the time we came back here to work on taking notes.”

He folded the paper up, placing it onto the table that was close to him. His intention was clear: he would tell her everything that happened during his night, as a way to help build up trust between himself and her. “I'm going to be honest with you, no secrets between us.” he spoke softly as his eyes met hers.

“After I left here. I came across Ayel and Prince Flynn with a few others.” he ran through what happened that night. “We found the death of the guard, the one who died defending the Princess of Lunaris.”

“Flynn asked me to carry the body towards the Temple of Seluna. Where they could be put to rest. I was accompanied by a squire and a priestess of that temple.” then he remembered all the blood and gore that covered him as he carried the corpse through the frozen tundra.

“After I set the body to rest so the priests could handle it, that was when the lockdown happened, so I didn't leave Seluna until the lockdown ended.” he took a small breath as he finished.

Eris listened in silence, her gaze fixed on him as he spoke—brows drawn together in sympathy. She didn’t want to imagine the gruesome scene he’d come across, yet the thought lingered at the edges of her mind.

“Regarding this Gemstone and these runes. I suggest that we should let Prince Flynn know about this.”

Eris turned her gaze back to the parchment, silently studying it under the firelight. “Yes, I think so.” She replied softly, reaching out and slipping the parchment back into her pocket. “At the very least, he should be aware of break-ins.”

Her eyes drifted past Nathaniel and to the door behind him, though her mind was already somewhere far more distant. “I’ll scour my library for every book I have on enchantment. See if we can find out what the other runes mean.” She paused, her gaze sliding back to him. “If something is sealed within the stone, it must be dangerous… but perhaps the runes don’t complete a seal?”

Her fingertips brushed against the cold gem inside her pocket. Still, it remained silent to her touch.

Nathaniel nodded, his eyes not leaving her face. “That’s a good idea, I have brought some tomes with me at the inn. I can have a look through them to see if there can be some that could help us with this mystery. Or if you need help here I'll be happy to assist.” he politely said to her.

“Probably best to keep the Gemstone under lock and key.”

Returning her gaze to him, a faint, hesitant smile lifted on her lips. “Agreed… I suppose I'd better go find the Prince.”

“If you are looking for the Prince, he should be easy to find as long as Ayel is close by his proximity” A small chuckle erupted from his throat. Eris’ smile grew—a quiet, breathy laugh escaping her.

“Ayel is almost a lost puppy to the Prince.” he turned round to the door that Eris and he came through, then turned back to her. “We should head back, Nesna might be getting a bit worried about us being gone.”

“Eris, I know you hardly have any magic left at this time, you need time to replenish your magic.” he stepped closer to her. “But, as long as I am here, I will keep you safe. I will help you in what way I can. We are all here to help you.” his tone soft as he tried to ease the tension in her.

Eris blinked, caught off guard by the gentle sincerity in his tone. Unbidden, warmth crept into her cheeks, and she was grateful for the dim light that veiled it. She dropped her gaze quickly, fingers finding the nearest candlestick as though it demanded her immediate attention.

“You’re kind to say so,” she murmured, her voice soft as she busied herself with snuffing the flame, then moved on to the next, letting the slow ritual steady her thoughts. “It’s… nice… having people to lean on here.”

Something unfamiliar. And a little terrifying.

Her hand hovered over the last candle as she glanced back at him. A faint smile touched her lips, “Let’s not keep Nesna waiting.”

Pinching the final flame, the room sank into darkness. For a breath, all she registered was the faintest outline of him beside her. Stepping forward, her shoulder brushed lightly against his before she found the door and pulled it open. The glow of the hallway spilled in, and she slipped through—grateful for the excuse to turn her attention back to business.

Virgal Calistar

---

The Barn

---

Before she could choose, the heavy barn door groaned open behind her.

Entering the barn first, before the snow, before the cold, before even the icy wind or groaning sounds from outside, was a light.
It was not the dancing light of a flickering flame but something else. Something more solid, more pure. Something Thalia wouldn't of seen or felt in quite a time. It was unmistakable. Sun light.

...

Having kicked open the barn door, Virgal Calistar now had his back to it as he hunch over, tugging on a rope, cursing and groaning as he wrestle with a big, fat, stubborn, grumpy, boar. Trying to guide it into the barn.

"C'mon Dinner. Get yer big ass in there."

It didn't help his cause that the noble Aurelian wore so many layers of clothing that he could barely move his limbs. The compilation of fine silken and coloured fabrics heaped upon him, detailed and inlaid with intricate patterns and jewels, worth more than a house in Dawnhaven. Right now, however their value and craftsmanship did little to protect him from the cold or help move the animal.
Despite his best cursing and groaning, pushing and pulling, slipping and sprawling, Dinner, the prized plump Aurelian boar, wasn't having any of it. Dropped down on its haunches the big pig just wasn't going anywhere.

Beside their squabble, stuck deep in the snow, standing vertical, was a sleek metallic staff and at its peak, the source of the unexpected light. The magical white light didn't extend far beyond that of a normal torch, but it's reach oddly enough did seem to end more abruptly. The line between light and dark being more clearly drawn. The exact source, mechanism or cause of such magic remain hidden in its own center, concealed away behind its own brightness. But in its glow was a warmth not like that of a fire, but the radiating penetrating warmth that tanned the skin, gave life to plants and replenished Aurelian magic.

Acting as if there wasn't a miracle mere feet from him, the Aurelian noble had had enough. He flung back his heavy furred hood revealing wild dark brown hair with a mid length unkempt beard to match, reflecting his long travel to get here. Beneath the hair his features were strong, skin smooth except for the early hints of age in the corner of his eyes and a recent -still stitched- scar running down his left brow and cheek.

With a bit of fumbling he pulled his hands free from his restrictive gloves and clenched and released his nimble fingers in the cold air.

"Alright pig, you asked for it."

Flexing his fingers one last time, he swung his arm out before him. His mumbled words were lost to a loud 'WHOOSH' as a wave of heat ripples through distorting the air, melting snow and turning it to steam instantly. There was no flame but it bore the same intensity of fire.
And with the passing of his hand it was gone, so too was the big boar, charging into the stables panicked desperate to escape the sudden heat.

Following his display of raw Aurelian power, the darkness encroached in further on his artificial light. It was dimmer, didn't reach as far and held less warmth to the skin. Yet, the Aurelian nobleman didn't seem to notice or care. With a proud accomplished grin he grabbed his metal staff, pulled it from the snow, and followed Dinner inside. Bringing his light with him.
Unaware there was already anyone in there.

Sya was seething, emotional waves formed into storms and Sya was entirely doing her best to keep control of her abilities. Ayel had the fact he drove her up the wall and much as he held her outwardly calm. Inner calm was a stormy sea and dark clouds loomed as she lay there looking across from the pool where she had started. Why was he the prince's best friend allowed to do such things .., surely the prince owed her the right to live her life the same as any other damn person in this town…

Hopefully the Persephone letter with her name and Lady of Lunaris would carry extra weight and hopefully be noticed. She said into the hot water and made her escape with a serpentine motion with gentle yet powerful movements of her tail propelling her easily across the water at a lazy pace, she was trying not to splash and make a scene. Unlike Ayel.

The other bank was closer to the source she presumed and was hotter than the other side, the stones were a little warmer and the heat energy here was quieter for Sya making as much distance between her and the Lord of assholes as possible.

Her tea was still here and the wooden flask she had, a thing she found from a left behind guest who never reclaimed it had proven useful. Its surface was cool but she felt the heat on the lid telling its contents were still hot. Climbing out the water was a new challenge but soon with a little experiment she was lying on side atop a hot rock, bright blue scales slinked into the water and sighed as they floated slightly like a sea monster feeling the heat soothe her emotions a little.

Sya could not help but she'd a tear as the overwhelm of emotions was deep, people had stood up for her, maybe not for kindness, but allies were allies. Some had attacked her, others had offered to make her chairs today. It just was alot… so so much…. “Why me, why take Gendry, my home, my life, family, clan, culture and leave me to face all this alone.” She said to herself as she reached for the iron arm ring she had made to replace one she lost many moons ago, her necklace of a smith's hammer both reminders of her heritage. The ring was heavy, still unused to wearing one again but it was comforting at the same time, she had kept one small part of her life.

The Temple was different, her home land was Auralian but it all was that bit different, this place was like the capital claimed ... .it felt off to Sya, would the goddess even see her? She was a monster according to so many?

Despite the many Lunarian influences her home land was loyal to the Sun not the moon, different as they were so far away from the glimmering palaces, Isles of the sun and deserts.

Slowly sipping her tea Sya bobbed her long serpentine tail in water and closed her eye making herself comfortable.

“Maybe il light a candle later…” She thought before closing her eye again and hiding away in this little spot, hopefully safe and too far for Peacocks to walk.

Prince Flynn Astaros (@The Muse) || Princess Amaya Selu (@c3p-0h) || Dahne Athenus (@PrinceAlexus)

The two had barely stepped off the steps leading to the temple's entrance when a small yelp escaped Ranni's lips, and she staggered as a psychic shockwave slammed into her mind and nearly overwhelmed the young Priestess. Ranni seemed to freeze in the moments after... eyes locked on a distant occurrence she couldn't have possibly seen. In a mere moment, the golden-armored figure of her sister had spun on a heel and blocked her sister's vision. Worry painted clear across her features, and strong hands gripping the Priestess' shoulders, her intense gaze met Ranni's fearful one. "Sister, what happened?" She said, a light squeeze to Ranni's shoulders to force the Priestess out of her own thoughts. A few silent moments passed, with only the light breeze whispering between them and the soft thumps of Ranni's tail anxiously slapping the ground while she formulated her thoughts.

How to best explain them to somebody who couldn't... feel like she could.

"Trouble." She whispered, finally, seeming to find her footing after the sudden shock. "I-It felt like the Princess? Just... raw force, like she lost control of some powerful magic. I-I can't tell any specifics but... I think she is angry." Ranni said softly, watching as her sister's brow knit in both frustration and concern. Yet, before she could say anything, Ranni let out another loud gasp as she felt a more familiar outburst... one who had seen her memories, the Prince, tear across Dawnhaven... before cutting off into an uncomfortable silence. The Priestess staggered again, eyes wide as her stomach dropped with worry. "D-dyna. The Prince... he flared then went... quiet. I-I don't know if he's hurt or something, b-but it didn't feel normal!" She said, words rushing from her mouth as worry crept heavily into her voice.

"Where?" Dyna demanded in response, her expression hardening as the girl's training kicked in. As the Priestess pointed into the distance, the Champion grabbed Ranni's arm by the wrist to guide the pair towards the source of the disturbance. "Lead us, Priestess." She said, tone losing any sense of the concern that had been shown earlier. Instead locking into the cool professionalism drilled instinctively into all of Aelios' Champions from a young age. As the two set off, Dyna's hardened gaze scanned the streets and surroundings, as if daring any sort of threat to step out and attempt to stop the duo from reaching their destination.

It wasn't long before scenery began to grow familiar, an a sinking feeling within Dyna's chest set in. The jail. They were heading towards the Jail. She bit her lower lip in frustration, sending a silent prayer towards Aelios that the prisoner she had taken there previously wasn't causing issues. That they'd arrived to find the Prince and Princess unharmed, that Ranni's feelings had simply been some kind of marital spat.

Even she didn't believe in the chances of that.

As the duo finally grew close to the jail, a distinct chill set into Dyna's bones. The ground around them seemed to slowly be turning white and growing covered in ice. Behind herself, Dyna felt the Priestess' hand on her back. As if the girl were trying to hide from the source of all the ice. Still, they continued onward, the figures outside the Prison slowly taking shape even as the Champion's golden boots caused the thin layer of ice beneath her to crack loudly within the still air. A small sigh of relief did escape the Champion's lips as she noticed both the Prince and Princess outside... seemingly unharmed. Coming from the jail itself, she noticed a woman who appeared to be a guard emerging as well. As the duo approached, Dyna ensured to keep her footsteps heavy. Both to ensure she her footing and announce her presence to those waiting outside.

While all seemed to be calm at the moment, save for the layer of steadily thickening ice on the ground and the tense air sitting heavy about them, something still felt... off. This causing a deep concern to sit in the young Champion's gut...

Almost as much of a concern as her sister's steady-yet-silent attempts to keep Dyna between herself and the Royal Couple.

@PrinceAlexus

"lord Eh?, 'ad a hunch about it since how could a 'moner acquire such high standing specially when the prince of both 'ands are here?"
"Ya a shameless one too eh? asking me to pay when yer setting on a nice title and fief, i bet fertile fields and obedient peasants."
Jested Farrion with a roaring laughter, almost choking oh his ale.
He spoke with the allure of an aged veteran despite his youthful face, but as they say: the kids in Xaarla learn to fight before they can count.
The swordsmen ate his meat in great mouthfuls carving it away with a strangely shaped dagger: a singled edged thing unlike any other. Wolfing down his portion in seemingly an instant before turning his head towards the captain:
"What else could a southern swordmaster be here for? with icicles hanging from his sack?. Since the bloody sun went out work seemed to go with it." , chuckled the man while shrugging his shoulders.
Upon hearing the news about a bounty the man's eyed lit up as he continued: "Glad to hear this place is an exception.
"Dont worry, ill handle that issue with whatever monster you got troubling ya. Could be a beast or men, big or small doesnt matter, they all die the same and shit themselves afterwards"
"Ill talk bout my pay later after you tell me the whole story but know that Cull Farrion doesn't come cheap."

***intermission where I catch up on the whole attacker thing***

"mmmmm... 500 gold, half upfront half after and i shall bring you their head within a fortnight, if i don't... well find my body in whatever forsaken state it may be in and take my swords, ill be a shame for such a beauties to be lost to the cold."
Said the man in a confident tone while gulping down another mouthful of ale.
"As for the prince its for the best that i let you deal with him, words on paper's never been my... how do you say here again? ah yes forte, was always easier to hire someone else for that."

Lord and Lady Coswain

The Eye

Door Dashed.

Lord Coswain was stuck dealing with the newcomer, he had not got other duties so that would be fine and. He thought it was far easier and more comfortable than standing in the cold for hours and hours on end. Doing make work was not the worst fate and he would just do his best to make the best of the worst that he found himself in. An estate? Feif, well he did have lands that gave income and provided them least food and rent. But Lunaris was hard hit and the land was unforgiving even before the darkness fell, least it would help keep his children fed and able to sustain his grand child.

“Lord aye, though i been in for 2 decades, I earned it the long way. No gold, just iron.” He said taking a drink from his ale and ran a hand over his battle damage and repair. He can come close to the end and lived.

“I'm not some new recruit, I can play back the same as you.” He laughed alongside the other man he had to admit. Soldiers had a level of trickery and sometimes you had to play back. A southern sword master, mercenary was probably trouble but it was whose trouble they decided to make themselves, to Dawn Haven, or its enemies? Trouble could and did work for you, against you or both depending how you managed and how you utilised it. Persephone Had been a rather Interesting partner to learn from to say the least.

He gestured to his damaged armour, the sign where metal had been repaired but far from the finest castle work, a quick repair until later permanent fix could be done. “Even with a champion and more, one gave me good before I finished it, these here, they are the killers, just be ready.” He said with genuine warning, unsure what he used to face before but what was in those woods was the real deal, the blight was real, the monsters were real and the wanted blight man had claimed one Knight already.

Though not the first, taking such beats on in single or small group combat was rolling a dice, and hoping you win. As a commander he had tried to use heavy crossbows and other weapons to weaken or even kill them first.

He had a name, Cull Farrion, it meant nothing to him, a name that came to nothing of note, not a good, not a bad thing, just a nothing. Odd dagger but he was from the south and really? Sell swords were really often so picky about everything they used.



…

Lord Coswain stopped writing, his hand was neat from his art and he had borrowed a page from a slowly filled basic sketchbook of fine ink drawings locally and pen in hand signing the note and giving a motion to dry the ink. “The Guard commanders can decide, if they agree and support hiring an outside agent, the Prince can decide. Agreed.?”

Lord Coswain asked as he balanced his ale, Sya tried her best but importing stuff this far out, the supply of good quality ale was hardly the greatest and most abundant.

“Just be careful, you might be good. But the foe is good also.” He said seriously, with concern, people should not and would not underestimate the enemy.

@TimelessParagon

---

---

_{Location: Eye of the Beholder > Seluna Temple}

---

---

Keep moving.

Kira slipped from the tavern without a glance back, her pace deliberately casual.

Keep. Fucking. Moving.

Venom laced every corner of her mind. Despite the turmoil searing her from the inside, she kept her expression carefully neutral. Hidden within coat pockets, her fists curled into tight fists—nails digging painful crescents into her palms.

A relief.

Something that demanded focus. Something to erase the feeling of Katherine’s fingers sliding against hers. Something to keep from turning back and snapping her neck.

Beyond the town square, free from the suffocating weight of the tavern, a shaky breath escaped past her lips. Pain splintered through her chest, burning white hot inside her lungs. She gasped—sharp and short—then clamped her mouth shut. Another gasp threatened to tear apart her composure, but she strangled it down, pressing a hand to her chest.

Weak.

Her steps faltered, the hand over her chest gripping into the fabric of her coat.

Stopping in the middle of the road, she turned to look down the torchlit path she’d come. The tavern loomed far in the distance. Bright, warm and welcoming.

Her jaw clenched. She bit back the urge to think of Katherine—of what was to come, of everything she’d ever lost.

Anger surged in time with her breath.
She leaned into it. Let it wrap its familiar arms around her.
Let it clear her mind and strengthen her backbone.

Releasing the grip on her coat, she turned her palm over and examined the shallow cuts where her nails had bit. Blood welled within the gouges. For a few beats, she stared—eyes glazing over, expression hardening. A plan forming.

Reaching inward, she tugged the invisible thread that bound her to the Lunarian guard. Followed it until she felt his emotions, heard his thoughts—saw through his eyes.

As expected, he’d done exactly as she’d instructed. Waiting like a dog, pathetically sat on her doorstep, snow-dusted from the time he’d mindlessly wasted there.

She wrapped herself around his psyche, sinking poisonous claws into all the frail parts of his subconscious. His mind sparked—pain registered, a flicker of confusion, a twitch of fear, and then… relaxation. Submission.

A single silent command pulsed down the thread. He rose.
She tossed their bond aside, snapping back into her own body—and tried to ignore the echo of his uncertainty lingering like a parasite in the back of her mind.

Lifting her gaze, she studied a fork in the road. One path led further west, into quiet neighborhood streets. Another diverged south, toward the temple of Seluna.

She exhaled slowly, forcing her nerves to calm with each drawn out second. An eerily quiet minute passed—choices weighed.

Then, she turned south.

Each step fed the fire in her chest until it no longer burned. It stabilized. Fury had often been an ally. It gave purpose. A path made clear within the chaos. A home to tuck herself away in.

But as the temple neared, Kira’s stride slowed. Awareness rippled through her—a group of heartbeats in the distance, a scent standing far above the rest.

Familiar. Tempting. Dangerous.

Her pupils dilated. Thoughts fractured between desire and discipline.

Elara was close.

As the group came into view, Kira locked her gaze forward. The handmaiden stood off the main path, flanked by two guards and two women Kira didn’t recognize—one unmistakably blight-born.

For the briefest moment her gaze flicked to Elara, but she wrenched it forward again, refusing to stray from the path. If fury could not overcome the curse of her rebirth, then distance would be her shield.

The doors to the Seluna temple loomed ahead, dark, barely touched by the moon's light. By the time she reached them, the fire in her chest had cooled into something quieter—sharper. She pushed them open and slipped inside.

Across the inner chamber, the moon pool shimmered beneath the open dome, swallowing each snowflake that drifted onto its surface. The air inside was frigid and damp, carrying the mineral tang of still water—and the stench of death.

Kira’s gaze swept the room. Two bodies lay to the far left, hidden beneath a dark sheet. Otherwise, the temple appeared to be empty.

Stepping forward, her gaze flicked back to the moon pool.

In front of it, Kira gracefully lowered herself onto her knees, tucking her legs beneath her. She rested her hands atop her thighs, posture straight, gaze fixed on the still water.

“May she strip us of the shadows we carry.” she whispered, barely audible despite the silence.

Expressionless, she began to unbutton her coat. When finished, she folded it neatly and set it to her right. Then her shirt, laid on top. From her waistband she withdrew a dagger, placing that carefully over top. Each motion unhurried and deliberate.

Rising to her feet with ritual grace, she began removing her boots. Then her pants. Another dagger hidden at her ankle. Lastly, her undergarments. Each item folded neatly beside the other stack of clothing and weapon.

Completely naked, her skin prickled as the cold bit into her pale skin. Tilting her head back, she gazed up through the dome. The moon lingered high above, a pale blur behind thick cloud cover.

“Grant us the strength to endure what has come… and what is yet to pass.”

Her eyes lowered back to the pool. Her reflection stared back, the glow of her fire-bright eyes haloed by the temples surrounding candlelight.

Once, Seluna’s temples had been sacred to her. When Aelios offered her no salvation, this became her refuge. A sanctuary to clear her mind and center herself. At times she still yearned for the vast temple in the capital. But now…

Her tongue ran over the sharp edges of her fangs. Elara’s face intruded her mind. She shoved the thought down.

Seluna would undoubtedly deny her entry now. Priests and Priestesses’ would beg for their lives or command her to end her own life if she sought to honor their Goddess. Or turn her over to the bounty hunters.

Kira had not come to the temple since arriving in Dawnhaven. Out of respect. Out of fear.
But now…

Without hesitation, Kira stepped forward and submerged herself into the pool.

Ice swallowed her whole. She stifled the gasp that tore at her throat, forcing herself to sink until the water brushed her chin. Pain speared every inch of her body, needles stabbing deep as her muscles contracted. Her body screamed to escape, but she fought against instinct.

Closing her eyes, she forced herself to focus on the rhythm of her breath.

Inhale through the nose. Hold. Exhale slow.
Again. And again.
Until the panic waned and the shivers steadied. Only then did she open her eyes.

Calmer—numb—she leaned back against the stone rim and tilted her head back. Gazing up, she watched the snowflakes descend to meet her. And waited.

Snow fell in the empty space between them. The distance was short. They stood closely enough together that Amaya had to crane her neck to look up at him — closely enough that she could feel the edge of his warmth, radiating out from him even in this storm she’d wrapped around herself. The cold made her muscles stiff and aching. But she couldn’t look away from him.

She could still feel the burn of his hand around her wrist, a shock of heat cutting through her wrath.

Images flashed in her mind — she imagined turning away from him and calling Knight Kain outside again. Amaya could feel the wicked blades her magic would make, even now tearing at the inside of her, restless and eager. They would pierce through her skin, her wrath made solid. They would tear through him, her frozen blood mixing with his as Amaya screamed in rage.

And as her attacker, her tormentor died, it wasn’t Kain’s face that looked back at her.
It was her father’s.

Ice crept through her. Amaya ripped her eyes away from Flynn’s, gaze unfocusing against his chest. Shadowed green and gold filled her vision. The winter world blurred around her.

Another tear slipped down her face, following jagged, frozen tracks.

“I…” Her voice was a pale breath, wrapped in inescapable cold. It was small — she was small, trembling and helpless against the pull of her own magic. Her emotions. She was a stunted creature of pain and grief and anger. Frost pierced her from the inside out. Amaya could feel the weight of it all pressing against her, burying her, suffocating her.

She thought maybe she was imagining the ghost of Flynn’s warmth — a treacherous, hurtful thing.

“Please, Flynn,” she whispered. She still couldn’t look at him. The words tore slowly against her throat as she tried to force them out. “Be very careful what promises you make to me.”

He offered so many — spoke them easily, as if that act alone made them true.

That her father would never touch her again.
That she wouldn’t live with the fear and torment that had defined so much of her life.
That he would be a partner, rather than a keeper.
That he was hers.
Forever.

Each one was another cord tangling tightly around her heart. If he pulled too tightly — if Amaya let him wrap himself around her, if he melted her ice and left her with nothing but shattered walls and burning heat, if she raged and bit and pushed until she finally gave him enough reasons to leave —

The tear completed its slow path down her cheek, pooling against her jaw. Its trail glittered over the lines of ice against her ashen, bloodless skin.

“Amaya…” His voice was steady only by pure force of will.

A beat passed as he braced himself—holding together the pieces of the dam she chipped away at with each trembling word and crystalline tear. The storm she’d summoned bit into his skin, sinking past layers of clothing, but the cold wasn’t causing the ache that rippled through him.

His gaze remained fixed on her face, watching snow gather in the dark strands of her hair. His hands yearned to close the distance, but he kept still, as if any sudden movement might shatter them both.

“I’ll die trying to make sure you never live like that again. I promise you that.”

His words sank into her frigid skin, her aching muscles, burrowing deeper like there was nothing that could keep them from reaching her heart. She let out a shuddering breath as the teardrop, unfrozen, finally fell to the ground.

Around them, the four Aurelian knights stood silently, spread out in a loose half-circle, watching and listening.

The brown-eyed guard was the first to lift his gaze from Amaya, scanning each of his comrades. One by one, their eyes flicked between Flynn and Amaya, then to each other—an unspoken understanding passing between them.

The soft clang of shifting metal cut through the air as they lowered themselves to one knee, careful not to slip on the ice that had solidified beneath their boots. Amaya flinched at the muffled sound of steel — glinting armor and swords in their scabbards, the familiar crunch of soldiers stepping through snow. The sounds jolted through her and Amaya spun, brushing against Flynn with the movement. Warmth. She barely registered it. Didn’t think to pull away. Instinctively, Flynn’s hand reached out, hovering just behind her back—poised to steady her. But before making contact, he hesitated, and dropped his hand back to his side.

Amaya’s frost coated mind was too frantic as she blinked rapidly to see —

Flynn’s guards, Aurelian seals emblazoned on their golden armor.

Heads bowed, their voices came firmly in unison:

“By oath and honor, we are your sword and shield.”

Amaya’s voice died in her throat. Her swirl of thoughts and emotions and magic stilled. She could only stare at the four men at the edge of her storm, kneeling.

To her.

The moment stretched. All she could do was stare, awestruck, as she tried to make sense of what was happening. The guards didn’t move. The snow still fell — but it wasn’t quite so frenzied as it spun through the air. It dusted against their shining armor, small snowdrifts growing in piles on their shoulders and bowed heads.

Ice still crept beneath them, expanding outwards. Crystals climbed, edge by edge, along the bottom of their boots.

Amaya halted it with a breath.

She stared at the ice, now still. Her lips parted in stunned silence as she waited for it to move again, to creep out of her control and build and grow. But it didn’t. There was no frenzied pull, no tendrils lashing against her grip. The ice was still there though — still coating the courtyard and flurrying around her, even if it’d slowed. It still claimed her hands, her cheeks, every fault and risk and shameful failure she represented on full display.

And still the guards bowed to her. Still, they didn’t move.

Flynn, his warmth, his solidity against her back, didn’t say a word. There were no more promises or commands.

They were waiting for her.

The realization cascaded through her. Something surged, overwhelming and irrefutable as the tide. Another tear slipped down her face. It tripped and flowed over trails of ice, finding the curve of her jaw.

Amaya had always understood how to play a role. It’d been just minutes ago that another had kneeled before her, and she’d slipped into what was expected — what was necessary to hide and protect herself, to keep him at arms length but appeased.

But all her careful words failed her now. There was nothing to hide behind, no mask to slip into place — not when they’d seen her unravel and known the storm she carried like a second heartbeat. Not when Flynn was still against her back.

Her lips parted. No sound came out. She couldn’t speak, her own nerves damming her throat. Doubts flashed through her mind — that this was simply a display, that they would eventually regret this, that she was too small and stunted for whatever they hoped of her now. A mask was all that Amaya was meant for, and that’d been stripped away.

…What was left?

As if taking them in for the first time, Flynn’s gaze swept over the knights.

He’d heard those words—by oath and honor—countless times before, but never directed at anyone outside of Aurelian royalty. He hadn’t ordered the vow, yet they’d sworn it to her all the same. Given it freely.

What he saw in their faces wasn’t blind obedience, but choice. A quiet, deliberate decision to follow his lead and stand for Amaya as passionately as they would for their own. To lay down their lives for her. To place their faith in a fragile bond still being forged between two leaders born worlds apart.

Amaya took in a slow, stuttering breath. The guard directly in front breathed out in time with her, a small cloud drifting into the night air.

Her voice was frail under the weight of the first true authority she’d ever held.

“Rise.”

As they stood, their attention lingered on Amaya for a few heartbeats before sliding back to Flynn. He met the brown-eyed guard’s stare and gave a subtle nod—a silent thank you, his eyes heavy with gratitude he did not yet know how to voice.

His gaze shifted back to Amaya. Her cold form was within reach. Close enough to draw into his arms, if he only dared to move. The urge clawed at him, tightening sharply in his chest, causing a single finger to twitch involuntarily at his side.

But he held fast. Her earlier words bound him as surely as chains. And yet the overwhelming need to be near her burned just as fiercely.

The two warred within him, heat and ice locked in stalemate. And he stood suspended between them, trapped in her gravity—utterly frozen.

When he spoke, it was barely more than a whisper.

“What is your choice, Amaya?”

Her eyes fluttered shut.

His voice was the same — she was back on that couch, surrounded by him, holding herself so still against him, as if to move would be to risk shattering. Flynn’s voice brushed like the ocean breeze along her skin. Close, quiet, it narrowed her world to just the space between them, as he whispered…

“Stay.”

A plea. An offering. A hand, warm and callused, cradling her cheek like she was something precious. Like she was worth holding.

The winter air bit at her.

When her eyes drifted open again, they found the guard standing directly in front of her. He met her gaze steadily. Patiently. And for a moment… Amaya thought she saw something soft as the torchlight flickered in his eyes.

She looked to the other guards — three men who looked at her just as he did. Waiting for her.

The ice along the ground had halted its steady crawl. The snow still fell, but gentler now. It floated through the air in easy paths, no longer frenzied and wild. And when a final tear dripped from Amaya’s chin, it splashed onto the muddy path below, soaking into the cold earth. Only the remnants of her magic remained — the places that the ice had claimed as an extension of Amaya’s fury. The courtyard. Her body. Her teartracks.

She’d always been better at freezing than thawing.

Words trapped themselves in her throat.

Slowly, carefully, Amaya turned her head to look back up at Flynn. It was a struggle to move even that much — to not curl in on herself, her muscles tight and trembling with the cold. When she found him again, his tired eyes, his tense jaw… he was so close that Amaya could hear the steady rhythm of his breath. She could see the way the light shifted in his shadowed eyes as he met her gaze. Flynn looked down at her, green eyes darker, heavier, more tired than she was used to seeing them.

But the gentle sea held her all the same… even if he seemed so very far away now.

Regret and guilt surged through her. They mixed with dangerous, painful longing. Amaya had placed him there — far away. It was all she ever seemed to do. Push, and snap, and freeze, until she made herself unreachable. What had Flynn ever done to deserve that?

What had Amaya ever done to deserve the gentleness in his eyes, even now?

There was the soft thump of her heart. Stillness. Another heartbeat.

Her fingers at her side twitched. She could barely feel them, beyond the arc of pain they sent through her hand and up her arm. It made her freeze, muscles tensing as she took in a small, sharp breath. But she didn’t look away from Flynn. She couldn’t.

He was so far… but only inches lay between them. Amaya had never known how to cross distances, how to reach for someone. But she was learning. Slowly. Clumsily. And from the first moment they’d met, when Amaya had only been a furious fool in her wedding gown, Flynn had always, always, reached for her with an open palm. Waiting for her to reach back.

She could cross this meager distance for him.

Amaya let herself hesitate for a moment — a heartbeat filled with worries and doubts, hissed reminders of every painful lesson she’d ever learned — and reached back with icy fingers towards his hand. She barely touched him, too nervous of the harsh chill that would seep into him. But in that hesitant brush of her cold, clumsy hand, in the winter blue of her eyes, was a silent, nervous question. An apology. An offering.

Flynn’s brows drew together in a swift, nearly imperceptible movement, as he braced for her to recoil.

The dam he’d spent decades building cinched tighter, knotting painfully inside his chest.
Relentless waves continued to crash violently against steel, threatening to wash it all away.
And still, he didn’t dare move.

His eyes hardened as they held her gaze—confusion glimmering in the shadows.
White knuckled, he clung tight to a reflex taught to him long ago: be blank, be unshakable, let nothing in.

If he didn’t react, he didn’t cause another reaction. Didn’t invite more pain.

But even after several silent beats, she stayed. Breath after breath, she held his stare. The weight of it pressed against him, sending hairline cracks creeping into what had always been unyielding.

Now, eyes locked with hers, that steel softened against his will. Made aluminum. Bendable. Breakable. Vulnerable.

He let his eyes drift over her face again, seeking a moment of relief from the unraveling he knew he couldn’t stop.

Wet trails shimmered along her cheeks and jawline. He wanted, desperately, to wipe them clean. To hold her close and kiss the warmth back into her lips. To tell her everything would be alright—even if he couldn’t promise it.

Finding it just as difficult to look her over, his gaze dropped to her hand barely touching his.
No longer covered in frost, but still trembling.

Another crack formed. Another ache. Another longing.

He lifted his eyes back to hers. The dam shifted, a fracture widened.

Cautiously, he reached for her—fingers tentative as they slid against hers, almost afraid to fully claim her. The frigid contrast of her skin against the warmth of his own sent a shock through him, but he didn’t flinch. His touch lingered, soft and searching, a silent question woven in the way his eyes held hers—unsure if he was allowed to cross the boundary she’d set only moments ago.

Amaya’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched the emotions flash through him, almost too quick to catch. There was that same realization she’d had the night before — that for all his surety, his stubborn hope and warmth were not unending. Flynn was guarded. Careful, distant, and controlled…

He had walls to call on, too. Ways of protecting himself. It was all heartbreakingly familiar.

Flynn was waiting for Amaya to hurt him. Again. But he didn’t pull away.

Twin lances of regret and shame pierced her.

“You said partners,” came her broken voice. Her throat constricted painfully as she moved her fingers against his, curling slowly despite the ache — a tentative answer. She tried to swallow, watching for any sign, any warning to his reaction, as if she could outrun a tidal wave if only she saw it early enough.

“…Still?”

The word was as fragile as everything else that lay between them.

Flynn let out a silent, painful breath. His warmth betrayed him as it fogged in the air. He peeled his gaze from hers, letting it fall back to their hands.

The heart he thought had stopped was suddenly thunder in his ears. The dam he’d formed around it was crumbling. Each jagged piece of metal cut as it fell, stealing his breath—stripping his control—leaving him bare.

He ran his thumb gently along the outside of hers.

He didn’t know her.
Could he ever?

She didn’t know him, either.
Could they ever truly be partners?

He recalled the rage he’d seen boiling in the shimmering pools of her eyes. He’d seen it countless times before, but never in her. Did she know how to quell it? Did she want to—or care to? Would she prefer to let it claim her? What kept her from becoming her father?

He thought of her stubborn defiance—something he’d found endearing in the past. He thought of her reckless readiness to throw herself into danger, without a thought for those who might be terrified to lose her.

She wasn’t a partner.
She was an independent storm of fury and anguish, waiting to be unleashed.

But he hadn’t been much of a partner, either.
Today, they’d tried.

He thought of her last night. Cast in the firelight. In his lap, against his chest. Fragile and soft, like she’d never been held before. Then, without warning, ice cold and razor sharp—pushing him away whenever he got too close.

“I don’t begrudge you your happiness, Flynn.”
The words still rang in the back of his mind—a painful reminder that time and time again, she’d shown herself to be selfless. Despite it all. Frustratingly, terrifyingly, selfless.

Would he have done any different than her today? Or yesterday?

She wasn’t her father. She couldn’t be.
And he wasn’t his.

His eyes found hers again.

“My feelings haven’t changed.” he breathed, sliding his fingers between hers and curling fully, pulling her hand into the heat of his palm.

“Partners.”

Something released in her chest, sudden and overwhelming – it was like she was emerging from behind the prison wards again, a force as terrifying as her magic filling her body and making her whole.

Relief.
Fear.
Warmth.

Flynn.

He took her breath away.
Amaya still had something to lose – a future grief not yet met.

The shallow cuts she’d gouged into her own palm stung as the cold leaked away. Sensation slowly returned, and little by little Flynn’s hand didn’t feel like a wildfire against her own. The pain gave way to something softer as he held her, even if the rest of her still trembled.

“Then the choice is ours,” she corrected when she found her voice again. Amaya finally looked away from his eyes, down to their twining, mismatched hands. She curled her fingers securely around his, mirroring his grip.

Pressing her lips together, she let her gaze drift further down, to the ice covered path below them. Remnants of her fury glittered like glass in the moonlight. There was that potent shame again, the fear of her own glacial wrath. Firelight danced along the surface of the ice, staining the surface red. It stilled her. Beneath her skin, restless magic flickered and stirred.

She thought of the guards surrounding them – the weight of their gazes. Heavier still, the weight of their oaths, binding them to her.

“I don’t want anyone else hurt,” she murmured – even as something dark and cold whispered to her, asking if she wasn’t sure that one would deserve it.

Another promise Flynn couldn’t swear to her, though every fiber of him wanted to.
He studied her silently, absorbing another surge of helplessness that rolled through him.

What he wished he could promise to soothe her worries… he wasn’t even sure it was what he truly wanted. Kain—the blight-born, whoever he was—deserved death. In Aurelia, the blight-born’s fate would have already been sealed. Death would have been a mercy.

He knew Amaya’s father would agree, which caused him to hesitate.

Flynn didn’t wish to prolong the blight-born’s suffering, but that ember of anger inside him hadn’t been fully extinguished.

The blight-born had attacked Elara and Amaya. Violated her. Killed two royal guards. Impersonated one. Made a false oath and tried to manipulate her. For what purpose?

The thought made him sick, but he’d done his best to force it down. Focus on the present. On her.
His fear for Amaya’s life alone had kept the fire at bay.

“I think we should alert the Commanders.” he suggested softly, lifting his gaze briefly to the knights who still watched intently, before returning to her.

“The more support we have, the less likely we’re the ones to get hurt…” he paused, searching her face for the same defiance he’d seen moments ago.

“Unless… you think otherwise?”

Amaya’s expression held in place as she stilled reflexively. Volkov’s face flashed in her mind, his shadowed eyes as he watched her through the crack of a closing palace door. A flood of warnings filled her, lessons hard-learned, shouting at Amaya to not trust the old Commander — to guard and hide herself away, to reveal nothing that could be delivered back to her father like a bird carcass between the teeth of a smug cat.

“They should know,” she managed.

It wasn’t about her, it wasn’t about her, she fought to remind herself as she shoved the fear down. Cold crawled up her throat in protest. She tried to swallow around it.

“But that might take more time than we have.” It sounded pathetic, like wishful thinking to Amaya’s own ears. Impractical. Selfish. Gritting her teeth together, she forced out a slow, clouded breath as her hand curled tighter around the anchor that was Flynn.

There were more at risk than just her.

“Using his psychic magic… drains him. It’s like he withers away.” She’d seen it yesterday. She’d seen it starting again today. He wore a different face now, but the effect was the same — the lengthening shadows beneath his eyes, the deepening hollows of his cheeks as he tugged at stray threads of her emotions, searching for what would finally make her unravel. The memory sent a chill across her skin and up her spine. “I think he’ll need to feed soon.” Amaya could still hear the deafening boom of his voice in her mind, a discordant chord reverberating down her veins, as he coated himself in Sir Abel’s blood.

And Amaya had just watched him walk into a closed, secured building with two magicless humans who didn’t know he was a threat.

The cold snapped through her as she looked at the prison with wide eyes.

“We can at least have support on the way, if we’re engaged sooner.”

Flynn’s eyes lifted to the brown-eyed guard ahead. No words were needed. Just a steady look, a small nod of his head. The knight straightened, gave a brisk nod in acknowledgement, then turned on his heel and hurried toward the Commander’s quarters. Amaya listened to the fading crunch of his steps and tried not to hear the echo of palace marble under his boots.

Down one guard, Flynn’s gaze swept over the remaining three. Men he didn’t fully know, but they’d loyally shadowed him for months. Men who bore their oaths with honor. Men who likely had families waiting for them. Families they’d only ever see again if Flynn could find a cure… and kept them alive long enough to return.

Fear circled, whispering all the ways he might fail them. Fail Amaya. Fail the world. The crushing weight of responsibility pressed hard against his chest. Familiar, yet more suffocating than ever. He tried to brush it aside. Fear twisted choices, froze action. His father had taught him that much. A leader who bent to fear would always be broken by it.

These men were soldiers—the best of them. They’d known the risks when they took up the sword. When they’d marched to Dawnhaven. And yet Flynn couldn’t silence the gnawing thought that he was leading them all to an untimely end.

He shoved the dread down, locking it tight behind the same walls he’d used to hold himself together—crumbling as they were. He couldn’t let it master him. Not now. Action had to be taken.

His gaze returned to Amaya. Fear slipped straight through the cracks, coiling tight around his heart.

“We should get you to s—”

The prison door swung open. Flynn’s eyes snapped to it. Adrenaline jolted through him. He straightened, making an unconscious shift to draw Amaya closer into his side.

But it was only the squire. A quiet breath of relief fogged in the air.

“Daphne.” His gaze searched for any signs of visible distress. “Is everything alright?”

The heavy thud of armored boots cut through the air, ice cracking beneath each step. Flynn turned, noting the knights were already focused on the sound.

The Champion approached, her armor gleaming in the torchlight. The blight-born Priestess from the night before trailed quietly behind. Flynn could almost feel the dread loosen its grip over him, just slightly. Beside him, Amaya barely moved. Her eyes were still trained on Daphne as she catalogued the new arrivals. New risks. New weights pressing against her. She pressed incrementally closer into Flynn’s side.

“Champion.” He inclined his head, then glanced back at Daphne. “Might we have a word with you three?”

---

_{Interactions: Dyna, Ranni @Queen Arya, Daphne @PrinceAlexus}

Daphne

Outside Jail

Confused Daphne is Confused

Daphne paused as she was walking out with a skip to her step glad to be leaving, her mind was on another distraction food and perhaps finding someone who can chat to who was not a prisoner while she got a hot meal…

Oh. Her whole plan fell flat.

…

Daphne paused to see the Prince, Princess, a group of least 3 guards and a champion? She frowned upon her natural distrust of a Zealot from the sun goddess. She had been raised by the entirely different Temple, had been taught as a foundling of the Temple and had an automatic glance to check hers and the other woman's weapons and pose. The other pair that caused her alarm was how she just felt a bad gut feeling and she always placed her faith on that.

Her mood did soften to the Princess, they really did need to get her a hot meal and a hot fire, she was well dressed but standing around in this cold was hardly healthy.

“My Prince…? “ She was confused about the whole situation and saw Amaya standing there too as her feet cracked on the ice and was really raising her eyebrows at the whole thing she had just walked in on. A glance she turned to see Amaya, she used her judgement board to see how to also play it.”The other guard sent me to Inn to get hot food for both of us, Nothing special, the whole anti Magic messes with me. The prisoner was giving me a headache so I took the gift. Keys are still safe with me sir. Guard Kain is still keeping him on watch” She said and glanced about getting her surroundings and bearings in case this was some kind of trouble.

“Anything you need?” She asked unsure and glanced about, her Violet eyes scanning about in an attempt to make full sense of the scene in front of her. “Did Gadez request a priestess? He locked up, I have the Key, I can open it up, but he is more likely a danger to your migraines than body?” Why did they need a full Temple Paladin…?

Daphne had turned her attention to the Priestess and the Armoured fighter in clear gold marking her out as one of her orders. Daphne had her own height but she really did not want a fight , just a hot meal and a chance to get warm where there was a good fire.

Daphne paused and joined the group about as knowing as a blind beggar about all this and waited for the answers. Why had they not left? The Ice, Religious people and more? What kind of thing had she walked into…again!

Subconsciously out of old childhood instinct more than anything she had narrowed her profile to the Paladin but kept her vision fully able to track around her and the persons, alert and having a bad gut feeling. Deciding wary, she kept alert and focused on the main potential dangers but did not do or say anything to provoke. She could react but Daphne deliberately relaxed her body language to show she was ready but was more alert than attack hands away from the swords at her waist as she in a habit that had long stuck checked and tidied up her long dark braided hair with left and quick movements of her fingers.

Hopefully someone would explain this…gathering.

Tags
_{Interactions: Dyna, Ranni @Queen Arya, Daphne @PrinceAlexus}
@c3p-0h@The Muse

---

Location Temple of Seluna.

---

Evelyn's head rose back up hearing the bright voice, his tone more of a polite response to Evelyn’s fumbling and embarrassment. Her eyes dared not meet his own as a way to be respectful. She wasn't afraid, in fact, she was somewhat surprised. Most nobles and marqués would always ridicule her for her standing in society. She never complained because it helped pay for her and her family's roof. But the nobles with their proper etiquette lifestyle could be quite stressful.

Her grip on her dress eased. Evelyn’s lips parted slightly, and a small mist escaped as she was about to thank the man for the polite courtesy. The sound of crushed snow under heavy boots caused her voice to stay, from the cloaks and how armoured they were they looked like guards, really an elite class of guards.

Her mind quickly raced through her head, she looked back towards the Blight-born, could he be the Prince? That thought was quickly debunked as one of the guards spoke with a tone of authority to the white haired female.

Protection? Evelyn wasn't sure if she was allowed to hear this sort of discussion. But as she looked at the white haired female, Lady Moonshadow, how important are these two people?

The Blight-born voice cut through the cold air like a blade, Evelyn jolted in fright, not expecting it from him. Too much was happening, all too fast, she was barely able to keep up with everything to process. Before she knew it the Blight-born along with their company were heading off,

she wanted to stop him,

Wanted to thank him,

Wanted to know his name but he was gone.

Evelyn let out a small sigh, then with a shake of her form snow fell off of her cloak in clumps she wanted to go after them, wanted to learn more about the situation that was happening so she could help with, that was the problem what could she even do. The only things that Evelyn could help with was making adjustments or making garments, not exactly worthy roles for people of that standing. Instead she smiled at the other blight-born and her company and walked off through the cold.

---

Mentions: Orion Elana @Qia Celine @Beard Dad

---

The Barn

---

Brushing of the snow from his layered clothes, Thalia's presence caught the noble Aurelian by surprise. His eyes were stuck on her for a moment, glued to her face as memories and features failed to connect. His startlement along with what ever thoughts gave him pause were short lived as a humoured proud smile cracked across his lips.

It had been so long since he received such a casual greeting. Even from amongst his 'friends. Following her gaze to the pole in his gloved hand he simply gave a slight nod of agreement.

"Ah, so good to see a fellow Aurelian." He said warmly as he stepped away from his staff, grin still on his lips.
"I thought to find one of those southerners in here looking after the animals."
The shimmering steel pole refused to fall, defying logic despite being absent any support.

As he brushed the snow off his pants with both hands he carried on."You must of come here with the prince, I thank you for your service and commitment. I hope he has been looking after you well."

Content with the remaining snow on his clothes Virgal gave up and stood up straight, turning his attention away from his clothes and the girl as he ran his gaze around the barn.
"I imagine it is no easy feat, being surrounded by these blightborn and Lunarians constantly." he spoke as if to no one in particular. His eyes taking stock of his surrounds and the animals.

Turning his attention back to her once more, again her appearance giving his words pause.
". . . That boar is a gift for the prince. Please look after it well. Was many a time I thought to just save myself the hassle and eat him on the way. It's not like Flynn would know any way." He trailed of with a chuckle before reaching out and taking back his staff. The light having possibly even faded a little bit more in that time.

"Forgive me miss, I seem to have left my manners somewhere back on that long dark road. I am lord Calistar and I'm here to see prince Flynn. I was advised by the gate guards that he is currently not at his residence, do you know where I might find him?"

@Qia

Aliseth had followed Daphne to the door, seeing her out and closing it behind her. There he waited for a long drawn out silent moment. A sigh eventually escaped his lips as he pulled his thoughts together. His heavy armor clunked as he turned around. Sturdy metal plates gliding over one another as steadily, on long purposeful strides, he made his way back to the iron bars, back to the prisoner.
Now, it was just them.

His sword was back on his hip, and he leant against the cell door. Forearms resting on the metal crossbar that housed the lock and handle, one gauntleted hand and one bare, dangling inside the cage.

He eyes the prisoner and clicks his tongue a few times. "So... Gadez. What was the plan? Huh?" His tone nothing of what it was just moments before. No frivolity or carefree jest. Just like his features it had grown cold, dark, serious and full of accusation.
"Steal my sword and stab me in the back? Wait for the change of guard? Hope someone fell asleep on duty?"

Aliseth held an expression equally divided between scorn and curiosity.

"Why not just free you himself." He adds to the growing questions without explanation, this one more rhetorical than figurative.

"But of course." He says with realisation. "Why be seen abusing power, defying his own laws. Why do that when he can simply lay the blame on a Lunarian, compile their failures, pave a path to seize more control..."

Aliseth shakes his head before stepping back and kicking the cell door, watching as it swings open with a long groaning squeal.
"The only question now is, what do I do about it???"

His hand casually fell to the hilt of his sword and his feet shuffled to a more ready position. Not a full combat stance but readily prepared to move.

The blond man's gaze had fallen on the cell door the moment it had been kicked open, his facial expression had however not changed from one of amusement. His hands however were now slow clapping.

"Hnn… Hnn… I knew you would come here eventually. Blightborn. Some like to dabble in predicting the future, I however inflict it. That is why I am here. Why don't you lose that veneer, blighted one? Unless fear has gripped your heart as eagerly as you try to grip your blade. Fret not. I have no intention of stabbing you in the back. That is the way of someone who is scared to face what lies before them. You speak as if I only had a single plan in mind. I have many, regardless which pathway I tread, I will win. However, can you say the same for yourself?

Which path will lead you to a victory worth cherishing? I seek to bring the blightborn kingdom to fruition so that the two olden ones will disappear, along with their kings, representatives and their divine belief with it. The very divine which has cursed you with the unlife you now don, if you are to hate someone hate those who have afflicted you this way. You are not the only one cursed by the gods, within these two hands I bear the anguish of all those whose lives have been oppressed and destroyed. But what will you do now?" Gadez asked as his hands raised to his chest, but they were not tightened into fists, but rather straightened out as if they were blades. His left arm horizontally held across his chest, the right arm held vertically.

"You could draw your blade, make a lunge for it, try to kill me in a place where I cannot fight at my fullest? Robbing yourself of true victory regardless if I live or die, and were I to somehow die, then you would never truly be rid of me, for I would forever haunt you in your memories and any attempt for you to prove yourself a true warrior is lost. You could also ignore these things, fling yourself at the man who placed himself here willingly, who spent a lifetime channeling his hatred of this world into this very body. These very hands.

You blightborn are quicker and stronger than the average man and possess powers whose origins I know of. I have fought your ilk before. Reaction speed, muscle memory and knowing where and when to strike. That is something which only time and practice can bring, and judging by your appearance, you've had neither so far. I offered my body, soul and mind to a cause a long time ago, shall I have to add yours to that offering? When all you could do is let me leave here. For how will they have time to look for you, when they are busy chasing me? Regardless of how you may feel. You have only to gain by simply letting me go. Providing of course you are man enough to face a challenge?

Besides, I think we both would enjoy the look of the royals face when they return to find this jail... sorely lacking. So what shall it be then?" The blond man smirked, his left leg standing before his right one, his arms still raised, his blue gaze observing Aliseth. His stance displaying that he would be ready to lash out at any moment would the man come any closer.

'Regardless of what happens now. I have won. The stone has been awakened.' He thought and waited to see what choice Aliseth would make.

The Lunarian royal guard just stood there dumbfounded, tense, ready.
Brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and concern. "What in the moonless sky are you babbling about now?" He demanded.
"Just tell me..." He interrupted his own words with a soft snort, the serious tone draining from his voice as a smirk took his lips. His posture relaxed and his eyes filled with an amused curiosity.

"Madman or not, I guess even a broken time piece is right twice a day. It matters not if you know what I am, what I have become. What that bastard did to me after killing Able." his empty hand clenched into a fist of anger but his tone remained jovially sly.

"Maybe I could now pass the blessing on to you???" He ask playfully, almost seductively. "Maybe if I kill you in a similar fashion you will comeback as one of us?" Aliseth asked, toying with the idea. He took a steady step forward, towards the open cage. As he did he reached into his armor and drew out a dagger. An Aurelian dagger. That crooked smile still hanging on his lips.

"But perhaps later, because I've already seen what happens here." He whispers hauntingly, no longer looking at the prisoner but the knife in his hand instead.
Then without warning the guard lunged forward only to throw his face into the iron bars beside the door, there was a loud ‘Crack’ and a spray of blood as his nose displaced under the impact.

But it didn't end there, just as quick, if not quicker than his first manoeuvre, using that blightborn speed, he threw himself backwards, crashing over the furniture where he hit the wall with a heavy thud. One eye already bloodshot, he looked at Gadez and grinned before slamming his head back hard into the solid stone behind him. He didn't even groan.

Slumped against the wall, with a bloody broken nose, he lifts the dagger, peering under the vertical steel blade hovering just above his eyes. Calmly he speaks to the recently imprisoned. "You're a madman Gadez, there's no doubt about that. But something bigger is going on here and I intend to find out what and to what end. Sadly the only way out for you is through a guard. So, you defeated me. Consider it a parting gift for aiding in this investigation. It will be your first and last victory over me. Next time we meet, perhaps I will attempt to turn you afterall. I doubt it will work…but it might still be fun.” He said with a nonchalant shrug and a fond smile, before pressing the point of the blade into his skin above his left brow, a trickle of blood starting to flow.
"Goodbye Gadez. Now don't dally or this encounter might not end in your favour afterall.” He says with an ominous threat.
"And when you meet back up with ever is helping you. Tell them I am coming for them. Be it the prince or that other guard Daphne, I will learn the truth.”

It was almost silent, almost. The steel edge of the Aurelian dagger sliding through flesh, separating it, the tip of the blade catching the soft skin of the eyelid and scratching across the eye on its path from brow to lip. He even added a flick of the weapon at the end to properly mimic the attack. Making not even so much as a gasp as he carved his own face, one good eye fixed on Gadez the whole time.

Gadez had simply observed as Aliseth had inflicted physical damage to himself, the blond man's head tilting slightly to the side with an expression that had simply read 'Oh?'. The man clearly felt no pain, and the loss of blood didn't seem to worry him. Blightborn indeed. Yet many blightborn were prone to injuries, while this particular one seemed not to worry. Perhaps he indeed did possess quite the metabolism. High metabolism often came with an increased need for food.

"You would label me a madman after hurling yourself about and making a bloodied mess. Well, perhaps you are correct. After all only a madman would know the truths of a maddened world. As for passing on that blessing of yours, I bear a far greater curse than the blight. Blood of a starry line, the same as the emerald gazed prince. That man is my younger brother, of course he wouldn't believe it, I wouldn't want to believe it either. But unfortunately the truth is merciless. Yet knowing that, would you still seek it?

Look for those who came here to study the blight. The sages. But like the royals they've all been deceived. This cure they may be looking for isn't a cure for death, but rather what awaits them is a wellspring of divine power. Ready to be grasped by whomever is willing to take such a plunge. Aelios as a deity is dead. As dead for everyone now as she has always been to me. But when one power is put out, another often comes along to claim its place..." The blond smirked and approached the doorway to his cell, his arms still raised, his blue eyes watching Aliseth closely.

"Defeated you hm? Hnn..hnn... you defeated yourself, long before you came to Dawnhaven. To lose track of the path ahead may be bad, but to lose track of who you are is far worse. Perhaps the cure you are looking for is within yourself?. As a parting gift of my own, I shall... enlighten those outside in a warm manner, however those two you speak of are no allies of mine it would appear. I wouldn't dally if I were you neither, seize the moment that I shall provide or it may slip through your fingers.

Unless you intend to strike me from behind? If not, then til we meet next, turnskin. Do make certain to be at your top form if you intend to fight me, I would hate to have a hollow victory. No doubt you feel the same?" Gadez softly smiled and stepped outside of the cell, gradually turning towards the corridor leading to the door to the outside, his gaze still lingering over his shoulder.

The blond man took a few steps forwards, his arms still raised before his chest, would Aliseth indeed attack him while his back was turned. 'A malkin attacks when its foe looks elsewhere. Yet lynxes eat them. But you are a wolf aren't you? We'll see...'

Something within Gadez’s string of words had landed with Aliseth, resonating with him as he remained still and thoughtful, a faint smirk on his lips and showing no signs or intentions of moving. He would gain nothing from killing Gadez, he Knew he could, but now he didn't think he even wanted to. He simply watched as the man cautiously left.

???

The door to the jail swung open after a little click, a pair of boots stepping into the snow.

"Excuse me. You need to go the distance."

The man standing guard by the door flinched to the voice and turned to look to his right, finding a hand having already been placed on his armored torso, palm facing downwards. Channeling a telekinetic push. The guard looked up and saw the face of a blond man with ghostly blue eyes, a smile forming on the man's lips. Then the guardsman felt pressure at his chest, no his entire body as he was flung a few metres through the air and landing in a snow pile conveniently placed nearby dampening his fall. The blond man had simultaneously slid the guard's sword from its sheath using his other hand. The blond man blew some air through his mouth as he softly relocated slightly to the right of the doorway leading into the jail, so as to not stand in it's direct path.

"Thank you for your steely resolve, I shall borrow this. You appear to have quite the problem with the guard shifts, little brother. Especially one. A little blightborn infestation, good thing the guard was kind enough to set me free. Send my condolences to Volkov." Gadez said in a smug tone of voice out towards Flynn in a taunting manner, before his eyes swiftly set on Dyna.

"Ah, ah, ah. Keep your hands down girl. You'll better use your energy to guard your heart, as it is laid out bare." He said in an amused manner, nodding his head towards Ranni followed by a slight chuckle as his gaze flicked to Flynn.

"I told you he would come here. The wolf you hunt. If this 'prophecy' of mine were true, whose to say the rest of what I speak of is no mere fairytale?" Gadez smiled broadly, his hair flickering before his eyes momentarily, his purple cloak blowing dramatically as he moved his arms in a manner only a stage performer could.

"The wolf howled it's warning cry, and asked me to pass it to you." He said in a more serious tone of voice, giving a slight cough into his free hand.

"That he is coming for you. That he will learn the truth." The warrior-monk tried his best to formulate Aliseth's words, after all it was the least he could do after having been released from his cell in such an amusing fashion. To savour the look of Flynn and Dyna's faces were to him... priceless. No matter which shape they would take. His attention set on Daphne and Amaya next.

"Also this is no jailbreak, but a breakthrough in prisoner to guard understandings... you may keep your crackers, Daphne. Perhaps offer some to Zephyros? And as for you, princess. When are you going to awaken from your haze? Remaining meek will lead your prince to his death. Become strong not only for yourself but for him too." The purple cloaked man said, his vision falling on the doorway.

"To go into a wolf den is a risky ordeal, I would advice waiting til it grows hungry and leave of it's own volition. But what will you do once he does? To take a life is one matter, but his life is already taken. A blightborn turnskin. Why not cage him and find out who he truly is? Perhaps he lost track of that very thing himself. Killing him will not bring this 'Abel' back, neither will it mark you as a saviour of the accursed. Lest you would rather chase the very man whose words have proven true so far, who allowed himself to be placed in this wolf-trap willingly, thank you very much little eavesdropper, nothing is as tempting as a closed door, and do I love opening them, have I not earnt myself a little stroll?" Gadez allowed himself an amused chuckle as he twirled with the guardsman's sword in his hand, his gaze moving between Flynn and Dyna, giving Dyna a nod the moment he said eavesdropper, then his gaze went back to the jail door.

Aliseth

---

Town Jail

---

From the direction of the open door that Gadez has just passed through, Aliseth heard something, echoes of whispers rolling down the stone walls from the outside.

Talking... why could he hear talking. That wasn't right... Was Daphne back already? Had she even left? This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Not like this.

Worried for the guard, Aliseth, desperate to know what was going on, tried something drastic, something new.
Now was the time to be daring.
Turning theory into practice, using intention over intuition, Aliseth focused on the magic that coursed through his veins, focused on where it came from, what it came from. He was a flesh crafter after all and in his current repertoire of consumed flesh, beside the few people and faces were many a beasts.

It was brash, it was foolish, but also he thought-it should work.

He recalled the lone hungry wolf from few nights ago that became his meal. More importantly it's ears, focussing on the inner workings and that predatory advanced sense of hearing. The blue print was already in his body, he just needed to use an artists precision to keep the area changed limited and focused. He only wanted the inner ear of the animal, not it's whole head.

While he had altered single parts of his body before, copying had only ever been in full and happened once, instinctually or by reflex. So this was new territory that needed focus and control. Time is what it needed but time he did not have.

It was painful, causing an instant migraine to tear through his mind. A migraine greatly amplified by the sudden roaring of the world. It was as if a hurricane existed in his head. As if a tidal wave ran through his ears. Panic suddenly gripped him as he feared he had done something wrong. Falling to the floor, hands grasping desperately at the side of his face trying madly in vain to block the world out.
But as he had been recently learning, gifts from the blight were nothing if not accomodating and adaptable.

It had only lasted a moment, taken a few breaths, for him to adapt, recover. Then everything slowly settled down like a picture coming into focus, gaining contrast, that roaring sound splitting and breaking into individual unique sounds, each one softening into its own defined whisper.

He had to close his eyes, for the pain, for the information overload. He could hear things in this very room that were not there before, the world around him was now different through these ears. Everything breathed with a sense of new life. Most importantly, he could hear what was going on outside. Shifting his focus through the various sounds like flicking through the pages of a book. They were familiar but different and he knew he shouldn't be able to hear most of them at all at this distance. Even Gadez, who's voice he had the displeasure of growing accustomed to, was only recognised by his unique way of talking.

Aliseth wanted a moment to revel in this new found sense, to get lost in the distant and once hidden sounds, but he had more pressing matters to focus on. Footsteps, more voices. From the floor across the open cell door, Aliseth held his breath and listen to the happenings outside the jail.

[color=ed1c24][/color][color=ed1c24][/color]
Location: Eye of the Beholder Tavern
Time: Who knows at this point
@princeAlexus@Echotech71
The purple mercenary listened to his drinking partner before returning a joyous chuckle:

"You truly are a man of the sword, rare it is for nobles to view our kind as anymore than expandable, a blade to be discarded noting more.
I, however, welcome the warning, doubt I'd need it, Many have tried their hands at me yet here I remain, unscarred and unvanquished."

Deep down Arthur could not help but feel creeping embarrassment as his performance, this display of false arrogance brought back poor memories of his past life, of the fateful encounter with it, there had been a men like that too who thought his armor proof against all the world's malice. How he screamed as the man was torn limb to limb by that which gifted him second life.

For lord Coswain the wanderer's still heart rang with a pang of regret at the wastefulness of it all. At such a fine men, cautious and humble, determined of will yet strong of body but reduced to a mere lapdog to an uncaring crown. Beings like them should walk their own paths free from obligations and commands.

The two drank silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts before a new arrival was felt at the counter. Turning over Farrion noticed a beautiful girl fair of face and plump of flesh, her head covered with fiery red hair which flowed down her shoulders in great cascades sitting alone.

A working girl, an beauty at that, or so he thought before approaching.
The purple swordsmen tossed a coin to the barmaid:
"Pint of ale for the lady, the good stuff." before leaning in close to her with a Whisper: "Come dear, name your price."