Time: Evening Location: Grand Ballroom Attire: Interaction: King Edin Danrose Mention: Charlotte, he's too whacked out to consider the others.
yearn
/yÉrn/ To have an intense, deep, or overwhelming desire for something, especially for something that is out of reach, lost, or difficult to obtain.
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Seconds went by, yet the moment never felt as if it were passing for Lorenzo. The feelings he held were indescribable. Not even ârageâ could adequately describe it. All of the force needed to pull from Alexander's vile strings had propelled fire held deep within to a place the dukeâs mind had never reached. And as uncharted and unfamiliar as it might have been, he dug his feet firmly.
This was not what was supposed to occur. This is not what Lorenzo wanted. He didn't need to look at Charlotte to know she was crying. The tightness of her embrace gave it away. So many eyes were on him and Edin now that one might believe the space between both men was the exact center of the ballroom, yet so close to an edge. Advancing meant to suffer a steep fall, perhaps one even neither of them would recover from. A blade or two would await Lorenzo at the bottom, whilst spools of pride would escape from every wound made by the impact. This is not what Lorenzo wanted.
Edin smiled.
âHave you forgotten your own words, Duke Vikena?â
Edin stepped forward.
âYou speak boldly for a man who began this indecency himself.â
Edin pressed.
âDo not look at me as though I created what came from your mouth.â
Edin manipulated.
âYou heard him. Did Duke Vikena tell me to keep Lady Charlotte as my north star? Did he warn me of lingering eyes?â
Edin lied.
His gaze returned to Lorenzo. âYou placed your daughterâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâŚâ There was nothing left to be heard, because Lorenzo did not want this. He did not want the situation to unfold in this way. He did not want to press this ugly issue in the here and now.
Even as Edin took one more step closer, the furrowing of his brows weakened.
âIf you claim to be her father, then you had best start acting like it.â
It didn't matter what Edin said.
âAnd the four of you would do well to remember where you stand before you look upon your king with accusation in your eyes EVER AGAIN.â
It didn't matter how he said it.
The moment might have erupted further⌠Lorenzo no longer wanted what his mind and body once called for. He did not cry or frown. In fact, his expression was rather unusual. A painter would both love and become unsettled by his stillness
This would have to be ended now.
But just like ârage,â the word âwantâ failed to satisfy what Lorenzo felt.
âAnd if you value your lives, you will not make me say it twice,â Edin said this before the unthinkable happened. Finally, the moment shifted for the man trapped in his indescribable state.
The world itself might as well have held its breath. The duke stood anchored and rooted to the ballroom floor beneath his feet. The wax-coated surface beneath his feet seemed to pulse beneath him with each beat of his heart, drumming a violent rhythm that would cease. Power coiled up his very being, guiding the path of promised momentum. One breath drew in every ounce of the strength that could be mustered. Even if you framed the scene, anticipation would fail to be captured. Inhibition and doubt were reduced to mere strangers!
With explosive vigor, force erupted! Lorenzo's arm surged upward, cutting through the air like a lightning bolt! And if the world truly had held its breath, it would have lost it from the breathtaking impact of his fist meeting its mark.
The jungleâs atmosphere felt heavier by the time late afternoon rolled in. The humidity had settled fully into the earth now, making the air thick enough to make every breath feel like effort. Sweat clung to the back of Mirisâ neck beneath her pale braids, making her reconsider sporting such lengthy hair. In time, the mud covering her boots became an indication of how deep she had traversed this vast jungle.
All the while, Minerva appeared to be perfectly in her element. What had started as the shifter stalking from behind now became Minerva being the trusted guide leading the way. Minerva remained several steps ahead of Miris, weaving effortlessly through roots, hanging vines, and uneven ground with the same irritating ease Miris envied. The deeper the two traveled into the jungle, the more natural Minerva seemed within it.
Every step, sway, and pivot was observed by Miris, despite Minerva occasionally making fun of her âassessing.â It took little time for Miris to begin mimicking Minervaâs footfalls and gait, while knowing that the effort it would take to reach Minervaâs gracefulness was a steep climb. Shifters had heightened senses, better balance, and their physical capabilities were widely praised. Regardless of how annoyed she was by Minerva, the shifter was capable and an example for improvement; however, there was something more that Miris was missing.
There was something she admired about Minerva, but she couldnât place her finger on what it was. It was as though her mind sheltered her from truly taking in Minerva for who she was. Was it self-protection or simply apprehension?
As the two continued on, they spoke less and less. It was not out of awkwardness⌠it was just quieter. Minerva's teasing had turned into lazy remarks or absentminded humming beneath her breath. Her focus remained ahead and around them, with fewer looks back toward the teen girl.
Did she notice something? Sheâs⌠tense. No, she just seems more tense than she is normally.
Even now, Minerva still looked like the type of woman someone could catch off guard. She was just so relaxed and unconcerned, but right now she was less so. Noticing this, Miris opted to look around more frequently and lower her profile as she followed. Then she noticed the insects that had buzzed so proudly overhead now whispered amongst themselves through the leaves. The distant animal calls no longer echoed as frequently as they had. Everything felt wrong.
Minerva slowed to a halt, which caused Miris to freeze just behind her. In fact, Miris nearly ran into Minerva with how sharply she stopped her advance.
âWhat?â
Miris whispered, but Minerva did not answer, which only served in making the girl far more tense. The shifter crouched low beside the narrow slope they had been following, with her eyes narrowed toward the dense vegetation ahead of them. Miris couldnât believe how focused the woman looked right now. Some part of her was afraid of it, while another was impressed. For the first time since meeting her, Minerva looked completely serious.
Miris slowly crouched at her side, attempting to listen or see what her genetics blinded her to. At first there was nothing, just as the Traveler intended, but then⌠voices! They were faint, belonging to men.
â...â
Mirisâ stomach tightened as she remembered the tracks from hours earlier. The voices grew louderâclearer.
Mirisâ heart began to race, and with it, her mind followed.
If this patrol continues west along the incline, then retreating uphill might provide the safest route, but what if they split into smaller scouting groups? If they do that, thenâ
Minervaâs hand suddenly locked around her wrist, her grip reminding the girl just how strong she was. Miris suppressed a yelp before Minerva pulled her down and behind the exposed roots of a massive fallen tree.
Boots marched through wet soil only seconds later. Several armed figures emerged through the foliage above them.
Seven⌠at least seven.
Miris, in her fearfulness, altered her skin tone from stark white to honey brown. It was all she could manage while frozen in place.
The soldiers moved carefully through the jungle while exchanging quiet conversation among themselves. They were lightly equipped, leaning toward being scouts. One of them scanned the area with unsettling attention, and then his gaze settled on their position.
While Mirisâ breath went shallow, Minerva didnât budge an inch. She didnât even appear afraid, just still while maintaining a tight hold of Mirisâ wrist. In a way, Minerva was grounding her with her stillness.
When one of the men moved toward them, Miris instinctively reached for the hilt of her short sword.
Pain!
Minervaâs sharp nails pressed hard against her wrist, demanding her to remain unmoving. When anotherâs voice called from further ahead, the approaching soldier hesitated before turning to his comrade. Within a few beats, the patrol was moving again, disappearing deeper into the jungle until their voices eventually vanished beyond the treeline.
The pair allowed silence to linger for a minute or more before Minerva exhaled and loosened her grip. Miris did the same, albeit sloppily, as she realized that she hadnât taken a proper breath during the tail end of the ordeal. While she caught her breath, her skin returned to its proper shade.
How does she do that?
It wasnât the fact that Minerva could snap into actionâor in this case, stillnessâit was the fact that Miris didnât expect someone like her to hone in that way. She shot a look at Minerva, who was already leaning back against the roots, shoulders loosening until she was back to her relaxed state again.
Then she grinned.
âThat was so good! Good girl, changeling. And see? Pretty little heads still attached.â
Minerva clasped her hands against her own cheeks.
âAnd guess what? I was right. There were a few more than seven, but there definitely weren't four. Iâm just that good.â
Minerva was shameless and was beginning to wear all that smugness she had on her face earlier. Miris was just silently staring at her.
âYou knew they doubled back.â
âThatâs right.â
âAnd you didnât think to tell me.â
âOh donât you use that tone with me. You figured it out without me having to tell you. Sure, you were still thinking loud, but you caught on.â
âThinking loud⌠yeah, sure. More of that nonsense.â
Miris grimaced now.
âIT MEANS, your brain runs faster than your feet. How donât you get that?â
Mirisâ grimace deepened. She wouldnât admit it out loud, but she understood what Minerva meant now. She just didnât know if that irritated her more or not.
Naturally, Minerva rose first, casually brushing dirt from her clothing before continuing downhill as though nearly being discovered by armed scouts was simply an inconvenience. Miris followed, but not without a sigh as she mentally battled her previous conceptions of Minerva. Before, she saw the woman as both careless and reckless. Crazy, even⌠Maybe she was still crazy.
However, now Miris realized that there was a method behind the madness. Structure? Minerva wasnât ignoring danger. She was just able to react to it faster than Miris could think through it. She wasn't sure she could do the same, not after everything Wendel had taught her about seeing the bigger picture. How? How could she do both?
Rain began sometime later.
It started as a soft drizzle, slipping through gaps in the canopy overhead while the jungle floor turned slick beneath their feet. The cooler air felt almost relieving after the oppressive heat of the afternoon.
Minerva tilted her face upward immediately, clearly enjoying the weather now.
âMm. Nice.â
Minerva breathed.
Miris raised an eyebrow at her.
âYou enjoy this?â
She asked while flipping her damp hair from her face.
âWhy wouldnât I?â
Minerva peered at her from the corner of her eye.
âWeâre soaked.â
âMhm. We are.â
She said in a relaxed tone, taking in the rain with closed eyes.
âAnd hiding from soldiers.â
Miris tilted her head to the side with a slight sneer.
Minerva, however, grinned without looking Mirisâ way again.
âStill alive though, right?â
Miris opened her mouth to argue, but stopped.
Alive.
The truth of the matter sank in. Minervaâs wisdom was not appetizing in the slightest, but it was keeping her fed in this tropical wilderness. It was keeping her alive in this place. Miris wondered if the lesson might stick with her beyond just this jungle, or if this would be a nearly forgotten tale she shared with others in the future. And if she didn't quite know now, Miris would find out in due time.
Each step she took with Minerva as they continued felt more and more natural. Miris was avoiding the same roots and adjusting her footing to the mud that threatened to swallow up her boots. Instead of being several steps behind the shifter, Miris was practically right on top of her.
âLook at you keeping up!â
âDon't you start.â
Her reply was sonically abrasive, but there was a hint of a smile on her face.
âThe jungle likes you better already.â
âThe jungle doesnât have opinions.â
âIt has its charm. Deserts are dry, the coast is too wishy-washy, and plains areââ
âPlain.â
Miris finished Minervaâs sentence, instigating the first shared smile between the two.
They continued on, eventually reaching a shallow stream cutting through the jungle floor. Minerva crouched down to it, dipping her hands into the water before washing her face and using the water to remove mud from her legs.
âYou got a name, changeling, or do I have to make one up for you?â
Minerva asked this casually. How else would she have asked such a thing?
âM-â
Miris froze for a moment, remembering that most people asked names because they wanted something afterward. It could be within minutes or years, but theyâd have a name to pin to a favor for as long as they could recall it. Work, trust, or expectations⌠It didnât matter, but Minerva was not like the people she had met in her life.
Minerva tilted her head, watching Miris stare off for a moment. She was already past wanting the answer to her question, but Miris resolved herself before she could change the subject.
â...Miris.â
âMiris! Miris⌠MirisssâŚâ
She tasted the name on her tongue a few times before giving the girl a nod.
âI like it! It fits you.â
Minerva grinned widely.
âMiris and Minerva. Doers of Things!â
âYes. Miris and Minerva. The Doers.â
Miris put on a smile, but Minervaâs faded into a frown.
âNo. No. Absolutely not. You messed it up! Doers of Things!â
âUghâŚâ
âIt has its charm. Deserts are dry, the coast is too wishy-washy, and plains areââ âPlain.â
The following morning, after meeting and becoming glued to Minerva- or was Minerva glued to her? Anyway, the jungle had changed in the time it took for Miris to decide the shifter was no longer an immediate threat to her. If anything, she was like a gnat. Miris didnât want her around, but there Minerva was orbiting her like she was food left out for too long. However, having a companion so deep in the jungle had its perks. The jungle hadnât shown any signs of getting any safer, no matter how familiar the sounds became over time.
Insects buzzed from the canopy above, while distant creatures rustled through brush thick enough to hide a settlement within. The humidity clung to the pairâs skin, and beads of sweat were beginning to be the norm.
At the moment, the two were quiet, with Minerva always a few steps ahead. Minerva walked barefoot the entire time. Not carefully, but far from reckless either. If anything, it just seemed natural to the shifter. Branches dipped around her instead of catching her clothes, and roots failed to trip her. She moves as if sheâs walking through her hometown. Sheâs barely even paying attention. Miris scowled at the back of her head, envious of the way the jungle seemed to cater to her every whim.
âAwkwarrrd,â Minerva stated in a singsong tone. âYouâre staring again.â She continued without ever turning around, but still Miris averted her eyes from her.
âThatâs just staring with extra steps.â Minerva chuckled while Miris clicked her tongue in response. âYou could at least talk. Itâll make this⌠Oooh!â Minerva stopped in her tracks before crouching beside a cluster of vegetation.
âWhat?â Miris stepped right beside her, wondering what in this jungle could interrupt Minerva.
âPeople.â Miris quickly crouched beside her.
âHow many?â Miris had to know if there were any threats to her mission, especially this deep in the jungle. If she had to flee, sheâd have to choose either to retreat or push forward. Unfortunately for her, Minerva only shrugged.
âDonât know yet.â
âBut⌠You just said-â
âShh! I said âpeople.â That just means more than one.â Minervaâs eyes scanned the ground once more, ignoring Mirisâ sigh of annoyance.
âCan you at least tell how long ago?â
âHmmmmmm⌠How âbout you tell me.â Minerva pointed lazily toward the dirt while wearing a smirk.
Miris frowned but shifted closer toward the tracks. They were faint beneath the loose debris of the jungle, but she could make out the impressions that were deep enough to suggest boot tracks. Her eyebrows knitted at the possibility of there being a military presence here, but it would make sense in these times. She narrowed her eyes in an effort to focus on the now more than the scenarios to come.
âFour people.â Miris started confidently. âMoving east. A few hours old?â She noticed Minerva tilt her head.
âAll that assessing and you still get it wrong.â Minerva teased before her expression focused. âAt least seven. Mhm. Heavy packs⌠and moving fast. Interesting, huh?â
âHow did you do that? No. How exactly would you know that?â Miris couldnât bring herself to believe the answer.
âThey hit too many branches for a group of four,â Minerva explained. âAnd heavy things drag your feet differently.â
Miris looked down at the tracks again, now noticing the difference in stride lengths. Inconsistency⌠She also noted that one side of the trail had deeper impressions than the others. Uneven weight distribution. She wondered if Wendel might have caught this detail. Of course, he would. He and Darius both would, and she hated that she wasnât the adventurer she desired to be. She stood up, frowning and filled with envy.
âYou guessed,â Miris grumbled, which only instigated a grin from Minerva.
âTch, yeah right. Iâm just that good.â Minerva stood up, and not hiding her smugness either.
âYou couldnât have gotten all that from one look.â Miris argued as they continued walking.
âIâm just. That. Good.â Minerva repeated.
âThat doesnât mean anything.â
âIt means a whole bunch if we wanna keep our pretty little heads safe.â Minerva turned to shoot a playful wink that met only with a scowl.
I think I hate this woman.
âMinerva. Can you tell me how you learned to track like that?â Despite her annoyance with the shifter, Miris was hungry to learn.
âSaaame way birds learn to fly, probably.â Minerva shrugged.
âWhat?â
âMhm.â
âThat makes no sense.â
âMakes enough.â
âIt⌠doesnât,â Miris muttered through her teeth. Minerva grinned, turning around to show Miris.
âYou think too⌠Hm⌠Loud. You think too loud.â Minerva wagged her finger and nodded as if she had worked out a perfect explanation.
âWhat does that even mean?â
âYou stop and think and think and think and⌠think!â Minerva shook her head exhaustedly. âMeanwhile, your surroundings have already told you what you need to know. You just gotta read it like a book.â
âThatâs nonsense.â
âMhm.â
âAnd vague.â
âMhm.â
âAnd incredibly unhelpful.â
âMmmhm.â Mirisâ eye twitched, and Minervaâs grin only widened. âYouâre so funny when youâre annoyed.â
âLife. Life is a vast path filled with more obstacles than you will remember and more than you could possibly predict. As you arrive upon them, you face one of two things: success or hardship. Fortune and preparation may bless you through this path. Knowledge and adaptability might equip you generously if caught off guard. We have all experienced these things. But ask yourself, do you remember the rare moment where you landed somewhere between failure and success while wrestling a hardship. A towering wall that kept you from proceeding to your yearnings. A barrier that silently urged you to give up and turn away. What you wanted was knowingly on the other side. You didn't simply want it. You âneededâ it. There was no other option but to get to it. The cost to yourself mattered not, because your motives were valued too grand for you to care anymore. You thrashed, screamed, and forced your way through it. Why was it there? Who would dare place it in your path? Your end was justified, right?
The obstacle was no moreâŚ
And you deserved every detestable thing that happened to you when you forced yourself through and ruined the very thing you were after! Disheveled and in pieces! Defeated and unsightly! Your end was justified⌠If only it were easier for us.â -Mike Lorenzo was just about to turn on his heel from Edinâs presence and proceed to the festivities of the ball, however, the interaction shared between the duke and the king were far from over. Lorenzo's eyes searched for the meaning of the continuation, waiting for a shared joke or a pointed one. Both were predictable outcomes when it came to Edin.
âHow thoughtful of you, Duke Vikena... To come before your king and advise him where he ought to place his eyes.â
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow at the faint smile forming on the kingâs lips.
âOn your daughter, no less.â
âUh-â He felt he was meant to say something. He would have surely stopped the conversation right there. The implication made was heavy enough for him to interject. He knew it was heavy! Yet, he reluctantly allowed it to roll off his back. That phantom pull on his psyche was strong, the strings made tensile by Alexanderâs compulsion. He could only stand there and silently listen to his king continue.
âShe wears her mother rather boldly tonight.... One might almost believe it was intentional."
â...â His eyebrows furrowed slightly, but again he submitted to passiveness toward affairs concerning Charlotte. The burning flame in his heart that anyone would expect from a father was absent. So⌠there was no stopping Edin from saying what he wanted, emasculating him for all ears to listen, and objectifying Charlotte in ways that would normally make forget what titles anyone bore or the dire consequences of crimes he would commit many times over while possessed by passion.
âYour daughter once offered her services to the Alidasht royalty in full view of my court.â He said while looming over the compliant Lorenzo. He would not dare say anything to defend Charlotte. Did she not say she'd defend him tonight? Yes, that's what she claimed in the carriage.
âAnd yet I do not recall Lady Charlotte offering such devotion to her own king. In fact, she has not yet even greeted me tonight." Which was true. Charlotte had not greeted him. Who was Lorenzo to solve the problems her decisions wrought?
âCurious, is it not? She would offer herself to the Alidasht, but not before her king, the one chosen by the gods themselves to protect and lead the kingdom she was born in.â
Lorenzo wasn't even her true father. She was his stepdaughter. Walter was her father.
âHer mother knew better.â
Lorenzo gulped and his eyes glossed, and still he said nothing.
âSo tell me plainly, Duke Vikena. Is Lady Charlotte meant to guide me⌠or tempt me?â
Alexanderâs strings that anchored him kept him silent, allowing Edin to emotionally lash him with no retort.
âAre you offering me your daughter?"
His lip quivered. His fingers twitched. Lorenzo could not act or dare speak against Edin⌠until this moment. The obstacle⌠the compulsion⌠the strings had snapped violently against the rage held back. Like damp matches that finally found just enough friction, the awaited flame appeared.
The fire was here.
âMy kingâŚâ Lorenzo muttered between grit teeth. Eyes widened, face reddened, and furrowed brows marked the death of his compulsion.
âOffering my daughter to you?â It was hard to see the disgust in his expression buried beneath the visage of someone who might kill the man he glared at with such animosity. âARE YOU MAD?! Do you think I would ever entertain my daughter ever being with you?! A man who had his wife killed for all to see?! FOR YOUR CHILDREN TO SEE! And now you hold a damned ball and sit alone as if it didn't even occur! You may be king but you are the FURTHEST from worthy enough to even consider her!â The duke shook his head while unsteadily pointing at Edin. âI may be seen as a fool in your court, but you will FOREVER be miserable! Your ilk will never forgive you and love will forever be far from your grasp! AND IF YOU DARE THINK OF TAKING HERâŚâ He stopped himself.
âTake my title. Take my power if you wish it, but know that I will always be her father.â The energy of the threat he kept himself from making was still there. He didn't need those words to make his point.
Lorenzo knelt before the King during his address to him, finding it to be the correct thing to do when faced with this unfamiliar version of the man. The late Queen Alibeth had always sat beside his highness for as long as he could remember, and she was never just some hanger-on. Queen Alibeth was not the king, but she held a different kind of power firmly in her grasp. Her presence itself made her seem untouched by treachery and unswayed by manipulations, and to think she was a witch of all things.
Lorenzo pondered as King Danrose spoke, if this man would retain this image of himself he had upheld for decades, or if he would morph into something unrecognizable to even himself. He knew more than anyone here, the grief that the scraggly bearded king pushed down in this moment. How much stronger was he than Lorenzo? To end the life of his wife with a coherent mind and sit here in all of his regality in front of so many, behaving as if she had never existed.
How much weaker was he?
Perhaps that is the true question.
âTell me plainly, Duke. Do you intend to nearly start a war tonight, or shall we consider your arrival the worst of it?â
Lorenzo smirked while stifling a chuckle.
âNo war tonight, your highness. I am on my best behavior.â Lorenzo dipped his head, deepening his bow. The mention of Kier, his ferret being present in secret, was something he had considered, but following Charlotteâs guidance on how to appear at this event, he decided it wouldnât be right to bring him during the reception and introduction of the ball.
When Edin spoke of Charlotte making an unforgettable impression, he nodded, his face barely visible to the king, now.
âEnjoy yourself, Duke Vikena. Carefully. I am in a generous mood tonight, and that is a rare gift. I advise you to make the most of it.â
âShould I be careful or make the most of it, King Danrose? Tidal waves are far from subtle, and youâd do best to capitalize on the opportunity this ball presents. The previous ball left the Alidasht embarrassed but placed on a high pedestal as guests of our kingdom. So much so that they thought they could dirty the blood of Danrose with that tiger-toting princessâŚâ Lorenzo refused to look up from his position, his voice low, and uncharacteristically foreboding. âTonight, Charlotte Vikena proves that Caesonia will not be the ones awed by the sights of foreign royals. I urge you, your highness, to keep her presence as your north star, for your sons are not the prime target of a long-term power grab this time⌠Itâs the widower king. All they require⌠are your lingering eyes, one glass too much, or your lament, kept beneath the weight of your mental fortitude, to surface. This is my rare gift back. Remember itâŚâ Lorenzo lifted his head, meeting Edinâs gaze with that goofy smile of his.
âAnd you enjoy yourself as well, King Danrose! This ball is already shaping up to be better than the last!â Lorenzo hopped up to his feet and bowed to Edin. âWe widowers will both be on our best behavior with so many beauties about!â
Time: Evening Location: Grand Ballroom Attire: Interaction: Charlotte, Edin Mention: Alexander
The short yet meaningful negotiation that occurred between Lorenzo and Charlotte in the carriage may have saved the little dignity the duke had with the Sorian court. Instead of trying to appeal to Alidasht royalty through imitation, Lorenzo agreed that the reasonable thing to do tonight was to give those in the ballâs attendance less to gossip about.
A part of Lorenzo couldn't care less about what others thought or whispered about the intentions of his garb, but he also knew it was those thoughts and whispers that would threaten to undo any shred of reputation Charlotte had managed to hold onto despite Lorenzo's many blunders. But there was something else that played a hand in his decision to change his clothing.
There was something off about Charlotte this evening.
Sure, she was just as sweet and beautiful as he knew her to be, but her appearance gave off something more. Lorenzo wanted to assume it was an effect of something positive happening with her, but he wasnât that foolish.
And so, he-
Let her do as she wants. It's too late to change anything.
Between Charlotteâs talking in the carriage, Lorenzo-
Let her do as she wants. It's too late to change anything.
Lorenzo parted his lips slightly and-
Let her do as she wants. It's too late to change anything.
Every thought of attempting to confront Charlotte was met with the compelling advice delivered by none other than Alexander Deacon on the night of the banquet⌠except, Lorenzo, here and now, believed the advice to be of his own making and rationale.
And so, Lorenzo⌠simply sat quietly, nodding along to Charlotteâs words until the two eventually arrived at the Grand Ballroom. They were late just as they were before, all eyes in their direction, except there were no palanquins, sultans, or tigers in their wake, which meant those eyes were truly on them-
No. Those who looked and witnessed their entrance were solely focused on Charlotte. The truth was made even more apparent as Lorenzo slowed his stride to allow his stepdaughter to walk forth. It was as if a spotlight unseen by everyone else was on her as she held the attention of so many hostage with her appearance alone.
And though he wanted to question what was happening, he wouldnât⌠No, he couldnât. Again, not the words themselves but the shackles that they represented encaged him, while the man responsible for it remained absent, unseen, but likely with that confident, charming grin he always wore on his face. Proof that this cruel game Alexander played did not always require his presence.
Lorenzo drifted slowly across the ballroom floor, making his way, firstly, to King Danrose.
âYour grace, King Danrose, apologies for the tardiness. I had to make sure we Vikenas stuck out like the sorest thumb anyoneâs ever had! Big, bright, and impossible to ignore!â Lorenzo boasted lightheartedly
In a quiet jungle far beyond the reach of Karnnath, a young Miris finds herself trekking slowly through it. The nature here was vibrant, beautiful, and, most of all, unforgiving to strangers seeking to avoid the roads. Some wanted a shortcut; others sought to hide their tracks, but Miris, the now-teenage Changeling, only wanted to be in her own skin without attracting unwanted attention, and traveling as Wendel had its perks. I mean, who would attempt to harass a kind old dwarf?
Someone who deserved to feel the sting of her sword.
With long braided hair and a nimble build, Miris was no longer the small girl carrying a sack of trinkets to sell off. Miris was⌠Well, she considered herself an adventurer, a path she chose after meeting her very first one who stopped in Rekkenmark. In truth, Miris was a multifaceted individual, taking on various jobs here and there that required someone with moral flexibility and no qualms about taking risks.
A Karnnathi spymaster was her client this time, tasking her to deliver forged military orders to an enemy camp just beyond this jungle. It seemed easy enough, and it got her to discover some new places beyond her home. She couldnât wait to share with Wendel, especially with his day-to-day becoming so mundane after he stopped working like he used to.
As much as I want to, I just donât have the energy these daysâŚâ
Miris stopped in her tracks, remembering just how heartbroken Wendel was when admitting that to her. Iâll bring the thrill to you, Wendel. Once I get back, Iâll tell you how things went and how I used everything you taught me to get one up on anyone in my way. The forlorn look on her face from the memory turned into a hopeful smile as she stepped forward andâŚ
âBOO!â âAAH!â Miris screamed at the face of a spotted feline shifter woman who had boomed her voice from her right flank.
Minerva.
The shifterâs first impression was far from subtle, nearly startling Miris out of her skin and causing her to reach for her short sword handle. Miris grit her teeth, preparing for a confrontation, but all Minerva did was laugh at her. âYou gonna whip that thing out or wait for me to take that too?â Minerva teased with a grin before jingling Mirisâ coin pouch she stole from right beneath her nose.
âWhatâŚâ Mirisâ voice was barely audible as she glanced down at her belt, which was, in fact, missing her coin pouch. âReturn it!â Miris demanded while moving to unsheathe her shortsword, but Minerva was upon her already. She was so fast, her hand already gripping Mirisâ hilt and keeping her from introducing the weapon to their first meeting. Their faces were inches from each other, juxtaposing ease and difficulty in their expressions.
âHere.â Minerva held the coin pouch up, still finding this entire interaction amusing by her standards. âI donât really want it, anyway.â
Miris was quick to snatch back her pouch and swiftly backstep to create some distance.
âThen why even take it? Who even does that?â
âMinerva does,â she shrugged.
âWhoâs-â
âMe! Iâm Minerva⌠Doer of Things!â Minerva announced this as proudly as a paladin declaring their faith. âAnd you, changeling? Who. Are. You?â Minerva took three steps toward Miris, matching each word of the question. Meanwhile, Miris maintained the distance by stepping back, still prepared to unsheathe. She didnât know how to feel about Minerva. Miris was aware that Minerva could have easily harmed her from the start.
âIt doesnât concern you,â Miris said sternly, yet her body language read as discomfort and a lack of confidence. âNow Iâll be on my way.â
âSamsies, changeling!â Minerva didnât wave. She simply gave Miris a big, toothy smile from where she stood. It was more than enough of an indication of her ability to start walking, so thatâs exactly what Miris did. She left the strange woman to her own oddness and continued deeper into the wilderness.
âThereâs a nice clearing further in if you head slightly right from here.â Minervaâs voice, heard from a few steps behind her, caused Miris to freeze in place.
Why is she here?! Why is she with me?!â
âItâs purrrfect for taking a little break. A nap even.â
âI⌠I thought you were on your way somewhere.â Miris asked without turning around to speak to her tagalong. She did, however, shift her direction of travel to what Minerva proposed. A quick sit-down would be nice, and perhaps at that point she'd know what to do about her cat problem.
âYeah, but I guess your way⌠and my way⌠are the same way.â Minerva held back a laugh while Miris held back a sigh. The two of them ventured deeper into the jungle, eventually reaching the clearing where a large tree had fallen to create it.
Sitting on a dry spot on the ground, Miris prepared herself to ask Minerva some hard questions. She took a deep breath and⌠and then she heard a familiar jingling. Miris reached up, already knowing what it was.
âSo easy! You were so tense and everything, too!â
She took it again. She took it. Not because she needed it⌠Just because she could.
Time: Evening Location: Vikena Estate Attire:Shahzade Vikena Interaction: Charlotte Mention:
Again, the Vikenas found themselves running late to the ball, yet if you asked Lorenzo, heâd say the night was still a babe suckling on the warmth of sundown. What mattered was not when someone arrived, but how they did JUST THAT! Unlike his arrival at the previous ball, he did not scurry from his home in haste! He wore no beads of sweat upon his brow!
With the elegance he once observed from the Alidasht royalty, Lorenzo walked gracefully toward the carriage. Behind him, a member of his staff, Nathaniel, slowly shut the door with a grave look upon his face. Nathaniel held more regret in his expression than any one person should have, but Lorenzo had insisted that he had to wear this to make up for his past transgressions against the Alidasht during the previous ball. Lorenzo wanted to show that he understood their culture, not by studying, but through emulation.
Reaching the carriage, he opened the door and greeted Charlotte a beat before he ever saw her.
âYa, Lottie! Ana hoonaaa⌠Oh!â It wasnât a great reaction to his stepdaughterâs darker take on her usual appearance. It was jarring, but he knew it was never good to judge the way a woman chose to appear. She probably took inspiration from that Violet Damien⌠Itâs fine, I am the face of this family, and Charlotte is at the age where she can still spread her wings a bit. He forced a smile and gave her a nod as he took a seat across from her in the carriage. âYou look⌠dangerous!â He leaned with a smirk. âI like it! I prefer the pretty mermaid, but the alluring siren is nice too!â
â Lots of Clothes â Arming sword â Battle-axe â Mace â Daggers â Bow & Arrows â Shortsword â Leather Armor â Half-plate Armor â Hide Armor â Gliding Cloak â Toolkit â Camping Equipment â Locked chest filled with old trinkets that ARE NOT FOR SALE â Magnifying glass â Diary â Sketchbook â Pencils â Dried and Cured Meats â Nuts â Second Locked Chest with self-care products â Bag of holding
Attire: Beige trousers, brown tunic, and worn brown boots Gold Balance: 40GP (-5 for Minervaâs hearty supper) Injuries: None. Current Persona: Minerva
âWhatâs next?!â
With her hunger and thirst satisfied, Minerva still found herself wanting. It was only natural for a woman who yearned for more out of life. Oh, how she wished she could defy time itself whenever she noticed the sun making its ever-fated descent. Even here, in the unsavory Lhazaar Principalities, the sunset would mark its beauty as it sank into the horizon, a view sheâd make sure to catch from any window that would permit it.
The party of familiar faces would eventually find themselves sorting out sleeping arrangements. Now, our favorite feline shifter would have been fine with everyone piled onto a single bed, but for the sake of keeping things tame for the others, she kept her ideas to herself. But it wasnât just thatâŚ
Her eyes had lingered on each of their faces longer than usual, attempting to keep her memory of them in perfect permanence. With all her antics toward them, she found herself growing fond of them.
Maybe these crystal shards arenât so bad⌠They might very well be the reason I get to see them again. Or maybeâŚ
The wishful thought faded as doubt took hold of it, causing her to wince as everyone made their way down the hall to their rooms. Being the last to enter the living space meant for herself, Meiyu, Phia, Arya, and of course, Stella, Minerva shot one last look down the hall toward Menzai and Bastion. The two were committed to remaining in the hall to provide an additional layer of security for everyone else. An honorable deed. It was no wonder Wendel had the two in such high regard.
âIâll keep Phia safe for you, Menzai.â It was a cheeky joke made in reference to when he had left Phia in her care after the crash. Minerva winked playfully at the wolf before wearing a sterner face for Bastion. âAnd Bastion! As my second in command, I need you to hold down the fort while Iâm off in dreamland. I wonât be long. It's a promise.â She eyed him seriously, before a brief smile warmly broke through her expression. âHave a good night, you two⌠And donât have too much fun in there alone, Corin!â She did hope he'd be alright sleeping alone, and then she just hoped he was one of those people who enjoyed time by themselves. That felt... easier.
Maybe Iâll wake up tomorrowâŚ
Minerva entered the room last, but she kept her presence noticeable for the others, immediately pointing to one of the bottom bunks.
âThis oneâs mine!â She declared this as if it meant everything before dashing to the bunk and sitting on it with a quickness. The other women found their bunks without argument. Phia unsettlingly took the bunk above hers, which didnât help with Minervaâs eerie feeling toward the half-elf. Meiyu quietly claimed the other bottom bunk across from her, and Arya accepted taking the bunk atop hers, though there was a stiffness about the tiefling that reminded her a bit of Menzai. Like a star up high, Arya was right there and perceivable, yet felt so unbelievably distant. Iâll mess with her⌠tomorrow. Iâll wake up tomorrow and change that. Minerva was more determined that that was the case, but still it was but a wish.
It wasn't long until Minerva and Phia found themselves engaged in most of the conversation in the room, discussing what they had gotten into in Port Verge while separated and sharing stories to pass the time. The two were definitely the loud and lively bunk, and the bonding made from their conversation diminished Minervaâs feelings toward Phiaâs dreaded double wave. She still did it, though, and that can't be overlooked!
When the opportunity arose, Minerva made her way to the bath but also tried to keep up the conversation from afar. Her favorite thing at the time was doing poor impressions of the group and other people they had encountered, with her voice echoing through the bathroom door left ajar. The bath itself offered an ultimate reprieve, removing the faint scent of the peaches she once battled and the opportunity to free herself from her clothing.
I canât wait until tomorrowâŚ
She urged the thought this time and forced it into her reality. It was no longer a mere hope or wish. Minerva was set on waking after her slumber tonight, already thinking of what she might eat for breakfast as the sun rose again.
âMuch betterrr!â Minerva exclaimed cheerfully as she left the bathroom bare while holding what she had previously worn. She caught a brief, perplexed look from Arya, who had spent much of her time by one of the windows, but her brief look was more from surprise than judgment. Meiyu and Phia, on the other hand, continued with what they were doing; the former was helping herself to some tea and reading, while the latter continued conversing with her whimsically.
Things eventually slowed down as the four women set their belongings aside and grew more comfortable in their beds. Then the room darkened to match the night beyond them, leaving the feline shifter to just her racing thoughts.
Wendel⌠you picked a good bunch, and I canât wait for more⌠Tomorrow⌠Yeah, tomorrow is gonna be great⌠Iâll have some fun with Meiyu and Menzai⌠Iâll whip Bastion and Corin into prime fighting shape⌠Phia and I will talk until our lips fall off⌠And Iâll get you to open up some more Ayra⌠I wonder⌠I wonder if youâre troubled too⌠like Bastion⌠like me⌠Well, thatâs something for tomorrow. TomorrowâŚ
âGood nightâŚâ Her voice had finally achieved the volume of a whisper as she felt herself drifting to sleep. âDonât let me sleep too long.â Minerva shut her eyes to the world, but mentally clung to it. She mentally clung to them and their faces she had burned into her memory.
But her time was over, and as many times as she fought against the chaotic flow of change, this was not a battle she could win. Day whisked away night, and with it, Minerva as well.
The feline shifter was lying still, covered only by her blanket, when her eyelids twitched ever so slightly. It was her last visible action in what she called her âplaytime.â And then, for a second, her skin and hair were drained of all color, blanking the slate before applying the next persona of Mirisâ âcrew.â
Minerva was dragged away... Frame shifted and settled, from restless to sure. Gone was the fleeting, the wild, and obscure. In its place lie a calm that refused to bend. A watcher, a warden, a blade for a friend. Bright, roaming eyes now narrowed with aim. Who lies in her stead, and what is his name?
Malikendor of the Shifting Sands opened his eyes with purpose, quietly taking a deep breath in this strange, unfamiliar place. Many questions about his current predicament filled his thoughts, but they would not linger for long as his eyes searched his surroundings. A room in a tavern. Shared? Shared with women. And I am without clothes⌠Minerva... His calm gaze found a woman looking directly at him from the top bunk across from his, watching him with fright beside her raptor companion. He did not panic. He did not attempt to explain. Malik simply stared back. A tiefling⌠A- He blinked several times, confused by what his mind fed him. It was as if he knew her name for just a second before it escaped him like fleeing prey into a thicket.
When the woman seemed to calm herself, his attention shifted to the layout of the rest of the room, his bag, and the faint scent of salt in the air. We didnât make it to our destination just yet. Malik gave Arya and Stella a nod before he wrapped himself with his blanket, left his bunk, retrieved his bag, and quietly walked to the bathroom. Unlike Minerva, he shut the door with the clicking of the lock audible enough to stir lighter sleepers awake. His next order of business was to dress and equip himself. After that, he would start reading the journal before advancing too far forward. He would commit to this plan before asking questions of those within the room.
Before finding his clothes in the bag of holding, he eyed himself in the mirror and brushed his hands over spots not visible in the moment. His calloused fingertips eventually found the shard on his nape. What is this? He grimaced as he had even more questions than before.
After a few minutes in the bathroom, Malik exited, fully equipped, while holding the journal previously held by Minerva and Wendel. He walked across the room, only taking the briefest moments to look upon the other occupants before he sat on the bed. The next awake was the woman on the other lower bunk. He studied her face, but not as long as he had Aryaâs because he was sure of who she was by this time. Meiyu. Mentioned frequently in the journal. She smirked at him knowingly, a look that perked one of his eyebrows with curiosity. She didnât say a word and instead moved about as if nothing was wrong. Did Minerva explain everything to them? No⌠she would have written it⌠But sheâs also⌠odd about her entriesâŚ
Malik lowered his gaze back to the journal, taking in every detail he could, and mentally developing a means to escape it. Being passively captured was not something he was comfortable with, even if it meant he was unrestrained. It was still a cage, albeit much larger. There were more lives on the line than his own, so for now, heâd remain with this ragtag group.
The last woman awoke with a reaction he didnât wish to deal with, but it was a natural reaction to say the least. There was no lie he could tell that would explain away Minervaâs absence without deeming him some kind of culprit responsible for her disappearance. Phia of the Double Wave was panicked like Arya was, but far more vocal about the predicament. She did not just ask. Phia demanded answers. Who was he? Where was Minerva? What did he do to Minerva?
MinervaâŚ
âI was Minerva.â Malik admitted plainly as he shut the book in his hand. âI am Malik, now. And I will pick up where she left off, Phia.â She shot him a warranted suspicious look, which he couldn't help, at least not now. Malik knew words were empty when facing the unknown. Showing her would be far better. Minerva had left the door open to the secret the personas shared, and now Malik was left to invite these strangers to it.
The morning progressed with more questions aimed his way, and just as in battle, he returned fire without giving everything away, just as he did with Phia. Unlike Minerva and Wendel, Malik did not initiate a conversation with anyone. The most anyone would receive was his analytical gaze.
This situation was temporary. This party was temporary. But it was what he had now. Favorable circumstances or not, this lot was mentioned in good light by Wendel and was able to tolerate Minervaâs antics.
Not much time passed before the group was led by three pirates whom Malik marked as subordinates to the prince mentioned in Minervaâs entry. Malik offered no resistance and instead silently thanked Minerva for securing such an opportunity. For him, this was exactly where he felt he should be. The way out of this place would be through the seat of power here, or more specifically⌠Port Vergeâs Prince Ravik Dane. As heavy doors shut behind the group in the throne room, this was the man the group now faced.
âI am not sure what misfortune led to your arrival on my island.â
âBut know this now and accept it as truth. While you are here in the domain of Prince Ravic Dane, you stand as property of the Seadragons. For I am him, and everything around you belongs to me. If you wish to live, I suggest you make the choice to find peace with such a fact.â
âLetâs keep it simple and begin with introductions. I wish for each of you to stand before me and tell me who you think you are.â
âPrince,â The manner in which Malik addressed felt more like it was meant to get Prince Daneâs attention than to respectfully address the man by using his honorific. He stepped forward, ahead of a group that did not know him, prepared not only to formally introduce himself to the prince, but to the others as well. His voice wielded pride while remaining steady and firm. âApologies first and foremost. I know who I am, for I know my blood. With pride, I stand as Malikendor of the Shifting Sands, son Marakhami and grandson of Malikeh. Valenar Elf of Shivairn.â
â Lots of Clothes â Arming sword â Battle-axe â Mace â Daggers â Bow & Arrows â Shortsword â Leather Armor â Half-plate Armor â Hide Armor â Toolkit â Camping Equipment â Locked chest filled with old trinkets that ARE NOT FOR SALE â Magnifying glass â Diary â Sketchbook â Pencils â Dried and Cured Meats â Nuts â Second Locked Chest with self-care products â Bag of holding
Attire: beige trousers, brown tunic, and worn brown boots Gold Balance: 40GP (Minerva shamelessly stole from Darius, but there may be more) Injuries: She feels a little guilty about Bastion, but wonât show it. Current Persona: Minerva
After ordering her food and drink, Minerva locked eyes with the gem knight once more.
âI was kidding, by the way,â she commented cheekily, ensuring that bad ideas werenât left unchecked. Then again, Minerva would have likely tried to forcibly remove the shard from Corin if he gave her the green light to do so. âBut these little trinkets would have done something by now, right? It could just be a pretty little blemish to walk away with. Proof that you fought fearlessly under Wendelâs leadership. You failed to keep us from crashing, but weâre in a good spot.â
Downplaying a crash landing into the Lhaazar Principalities and being at the mercy of pirates couldnât have been downplayed any worse, but what else was there? No one at the table seemed to have anything new to say about the shard, outside the fact that everyone in their group seemed to have one. As curious as she was about the thing embedded in her neck, she felt she could wait on the account of it being just like Eleanorâpretty and boring.
Not wanting to wait too idly, Minerva fished for her journal, but instead of writing on a fresh page, she began sketching. Phia⌠Phia, Phia, Phia, Phia. The name repeated in her mind as she drew a small, silly-looking caricature of the Half-Elfâs face.
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Remram
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DWGJay
Half Pint
Mistress Dizzy
SkyeOfStars
Infinite Cosmos
deegee
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