[center][color=a9a9a9][h3]T H E S O J O U R N , S I L I A C H[/h3][/color][/center] [color=a9a9a9][sup]The gates of Port Kaigurne give way to rolling plains, tallgrass swaying in waves with the wind. In patches and pocketing the landscape, various flowers incomparable to the overgrowth of Lamafon dance in the breeze, soft and delicate petals flickering. Few and far between the gates of the port and the distant forests, towering trees sprout from the earth, natural landmarks that forge their own path across that of Siliach. Zahra can see the well-trodden dirt path before her, the majesty of nature fighting an ongoing battle to take back what was, is, and will be trampled by wheel and foot. As the threshold to the Sojourn opens up to her, Zahra hears a commotion behind her. A young eidola merchant, covered in layers of cloth, begins to speed towards the open gates. [color=white]"Their passport has not been approved!"[/color] shouts a guard, attempting to chase after them. [color=white]"Stop them!"[/color] Somewhere behind them, Zahra sees a faint purple flash. Aeneas, the guard she spoke to just moments before, holds a bow and arrow, the latter of which is capped with an odd end. Before a move could be made, another purple flash occurs, and Zahra hears a resounding [i][b]thok[/b][/i] as a blunt arrow strikes the rushing eidola in the back of the neck. The young merchant stumbles forward and slams into the grass, unresponsive. The clamoring that is the gaggle of merchants hawking their wares is now suddenly silent. For a moment, it seems as if no one moves until the now-unconscious merchant begins to breathe once more. A few quick footsteps, and Aeneas briefly appears before Zahra, crouching down near the eidola. [color=BBD9B4]"My apologies,"[/color] he says, scooping the insensible bird into his arms. [color=BBD9B4]"It's not often that this happens, but even with its rarity, we can't take any chances. Enjoy your journey."[/color][/sup][/color] [center][color=a9a9a9][h3]R E D M I R E , T H R E E W E E K S A G O[/h3][/color][/center] [color=a9a9a9][sup][color=AD6691]"Tell me again."[/color] She clenched her hands tight around the iron railing of the balcony. She swore that if she gripped it hard enough, pushed hard enough, she could bend the bars. The man behind her remained silent, and his wordless existence forced her teeth to grind. [color=AD6691]"I... I'm fine. I just... needed a second to focus and get right. Tell me again. I want to understand."[/color] [color=88AD84]"Your Benevolence, please, sit down. You're not being rational."[/color] [color=AD6691]"Rational? You just stood there and told me I'm going to die soon. That some group of people want me dead so they could... what, ha—"[/color] [color=88AD84]"Yes. They know who you are. They know [i]what[/i] you are. Now that they know, they will stop at nothing to kill you. You are the only person standing between them and the Throne."[/color] [color=AD6691]"Why did Father neglect to tell me this? Why did you? Why did I have to sit in the dark, unwitting to the role I was to play? You could've prepared for all this, but now I'm fumbling blind! Death is at my door! The curse is coming to take me next!"[/color] She looks over the railing to the ground below. [color=AD6691]"I could fix this right now. All I'd have to do is jump."[/color] [color=88AD84]"It wouldn't work. She would find a new host, and the cycle would begin all over again. We can't chance the next host being like you; there are too many variables, and if the next person were to find out what they were playing host to and how it all connects, who's to say that the world wouldn't be worse for it?"[/color][/sup][/color] [center][color=a9a9a9][h3]R E D M I R E , P R E S E N T D A Y[/h3][/color][/center] [color=a9a9a9][sup][i][color=AD6691]Who, indeed?[/color][/i] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pL7KmaO2S8s]She stood in the center of the crowd, unassuming and still, her stare threatening to pierce steel.[/url] She had already clocked the new arrivals the moment they each arrived, one by one. Yet, there were still seven players that had not arrived to the table, as far as she counted, though some wouldn't arrive for quite some time. Her silver eyes flicked over to the [color=940310]armor-clad knight that stood in the stands near the stage.[/color] Taking notice of the Eagles that lingered at his flank, she pored over the possibilities of the future. If what she was told was true, he would be difficult to kill; lesser men have tried. Hell, greater men have tried. Despite his injuries, here he was, still fighting the shadow of death that loomed over him. A worthy candidate. Her head shifted, eyes following the [color=c5f5ff]ylva who had just emerged from the carriage not more than ten minutes prior.[/color] He was being accompanied by a Lammergeier. She didn't have experience with them, but she knew how strong they were. A thought formed—how strong would the Lammergeier be against the knight in the stands? How strong would both of them be against... [i]him?[/i] As the pair passed behind the napes of many necks, the woman kept her gaze locked onto them, her head unmoving. She'd heard the ylva himself had trained with the Shepherds of Lune's Shelf, and even more so with one of the Adjudicators from the Guildroot Society. He had to be just as strong as the knight. He [i]had[/i] to be. There was no settling. Her eyes stopped at the stairs, her sight pushing past the structure and onto the carriage behind it, where she could see that short, stubby man lead the body of the princess out into the open. She cleared her throat reflexively, drawing the attention of a man next to her, who almost immediately turned around the moment he met her steely gaze. As she watched the princess approach the stairs, she began to wonder how long it would take for everything to become bedlam. This plaza would be nothing but chaos, screams, and fire soon, but 'how soon' was the question. [center]—————[/center] [center]———————————————[/center] [center]—————[/center] Eliora approached the steps to the stage carefully, to no applause. More so, she was met with murmurs, overlapping words and conversations. She heard admonishments of her new rule, laments for the near future, bets on how long she'd survive. She fought the immediate future that attempted to cloud her mind with dark thoughts, putting on as genuine of a smile as she could muster. Shenley stood at her side, his legs stretching a bit farther as he lifted himself up the steps. He could feel the through seep through her fingers in slight vibrations, in the hand that grasped at his, begging silently to remain. Her approach to the center chair, of all those that lined the back of the stage, was slow. She took in the sea of faces before her as she moved, each one just as unrecognizable as the next, save for one. Eliora wondered who among those in attendance would be the one to set the chain of events into motion, not that it mattered in the long run. She long knew her fate weeks in advance. All she had was the word of her most trusted advisor that fate could be changed. And with that realization, she suddenly found herself in the discomfort of that central chair, facing the world for what she'd hoped wouldn't be the last time. It was odd. She wasn't used to seeing them from this angle. [center]—————[/center] [center]———————————————[/center] [center]—————[/center] [color=AD6691][i]But, I am.[/i][/color] She watched the princess take her place in the chair on the stage, then closed her eyes. Somewhere behind her, she knew that [color=D4AF37]sleazebag pseudo-criminal was lounging about, watching the proceedings with tepid interest[/color], all to satisfy the whims of a lady that was, at one point, on his arm. She wondered how long it would take for him to notice that she slipped away. Surely he wasn't that daft, or maybe he was. Either way, the things she heard about him were partway interesting. As long as he kept his head on straight and actually pulled his weight, maybe he wouldn't be as useless as she had now thought. Time would tell. It wouldn't be long now until the princess' retinue made their way to the stage. The coronation would be starting soon, just in time for him to arrive.[/sup][/color] [center][color=a9a9a9][h3]R E D M I R E O U T S K I R T S , O N E M I L E A W A Y[/h3][/color][/center] [color=a9a9a9][sup]The crunch of soft grass beneath his boots was nearly rhythmic, evident of his slow march to the capital, but that would give way to a long, winding cobblestone road that marked a change in scenery. No longer was he surrounded by the trees that comprised, themselves, the encompassing forest that lined the ascent up to Redmire. With each step, he pulled himself further and further up the inclining path, watching it slowly shift into tiered steps. He had no reason to hurry. The energy he sensed was still beating strong from somewhere within the city, and nothing would change until he got there.[/sup][/color]