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Location: Walking to the Temple of Seluna



Céline expectantly waited for an answer, the silence between them felt like it lasted an eternity. It was only after Orion answered that she realized she’d been holding her breath. Steadily she exhaled, relief filling her as her trust had been rewarded; Orion’s opinion remained unchanged. Furthermore he was willing to lead her to the temple, his hand motioned to her, a signal to follow along. As they started along he told her of the deceased Lunarian origins, how he hadn’t known them personally; for an instant, Céline felt his still pond ripple. The sensation passed over her as quickly as it came and she shook off the remnants of it.

Céline followed alongside Orion in relative silence, her eyes wandered over the sights while her mind wandered over the events he had shared with her. She had already assumed that the body of the dead man had been taken to the Seluna temple, had it been at the Aelios temple, she would have heard something about it already. Still to discover someone lost their life so closeby left her feeling somewhat uneasy. There were too many unanswered questions, ‘did an animal do this or something else?’, ‘If it was something else, were they captured or killed?’, ‘Are we safe here?’. Céline could have bombarded Orion with such questions, but given how recent everything was he either wouldn’t know or if he did, he wouldn’t divulge anything to her, at least not right now.

The trip through town didn’t take too long, despite their meandering path, the buildings slowly began to subside as it gave way to nature. The frostbitten path gave way under their footsteps and the closer they approached the temple, the more footsteps appeared breaking up the crisp, icy ground. She wondered if there would be many others paying their respects, if whatever grief or fear they might be feeling would affect her.

Her gaze wandered over to Orion, wondering if she would need his help should something go awry. She didn’t trust him not to help her, she’d practically bled her heart out to him just moments ago and he was both understanding and unfazed. It felt too much to put that kind of burden on him, to be a wellspring of serenity in a sea of tears and uncertainty. Would it be too much to ask him of that? Her gaze wandered up and down, reading his posture and composure, staring at the features of his face, his pale skin contrasting the piercing red of his eyes. Céline suddenly realized she’d been staring too long and her head whipped forward to see the moon temple just in the distance.

Despite having requested it, Céline found herself visiting another temple so soon after leaving one both unusual and ironic. Religion had manifested and maintained a hostile identity to her for most of her life. To her, faith in the goddesses was as much a shackle as it was a lance for her body to be thrust upon, a bloody and macabre banner for all to see. After escaping her old life and finding her master, he had shown her another side to religion, one that allowed acceptance and love and worship for all, regardless of birth or status.

Even when travelling to Lunarian lands, while most were wary of her presence and didn’t allow her to witness their worship, some compromised. Each person practiced their faith in their own way, some in private, some in temples, some deep in nature itself, basking in the sunlight or dancing under the moon. It showed her that despite the differences in goddesses, lands and banners, everyone seemed to just exist and live their lives as to the best of their ability. Her mind wandered back to what Orion had said, how he didn’t know the deceased because they were Lunarian. The notion saddened her and it made her wonder if maybe this was a place where people didn’t have to be human or blightborn, Aurelian or Lunarian, maybe everyone could just exist.

As they neared the temple, a thought occurred to Céline and she spoke up to Orion, “Would you come into the temple with me?” She paused, letting the question linger for a moment, “I know you didn’t know the man personally, but I’d like to think, maybe he would appreciate it. A stranger come to honour his life and memory, even if he’s not of his people.” She smiled, “I won’t force you of course, but you’ve come all this way, so why not—” she stopped suddenly, only now realizing just how close they were to the temple now. The waves of grief and sorrow emanating from the structure shot through her head like a migraine, nausea instantly setting in. She stumbled, her hand reaching out and grasping Orion’s sleeve as she pulled herself closer to him, anchoring herself to him. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, “I just need a moment to steel myself.”

Composure was not coming quickly to her, she breathed in deeply trying to overcome the feeling in the pit of her stomach. A new sensation was approaching, grief but not nearly as strong, lingering and weak. In the midst of that grief though was a shining beacon of understanding, of catharthis. The sensations balanced each other out, helping Céline to catch her breath more easily now. Her eyes found their way to the temple entrance, two women were walking out together, one with hair silky and white, the other had her features covered behind a hood and veil. Slowly her shallow breathing normalized, her hands still clinging tightly to Orion.



Interacting with: Orion @Qia; Mentions: Elara and Ramona @enmuni

Collab between @Beard Dad, and @The Muse
Location: Eye of the Beholder


Kira watched the Priestess go, eyes settling on the door she’d left cracked open. Without a word, she stepped forward and gently pushed it until it clicked shut. Kira stood there a moment longer than necessary, fingertips resting on the wood, gaze drifting to the door knob as she considered what she was about to say—or not say.

Ivor, in all his naive efforts to see the best in everyone, hadn’t seemed to notice the same things she had. On her own, Kira could dig deeper. Hold it. Keep the information close to the chest until she saw fit to reveal it. Form it into a blade to press against an Aurelian throat.

She blinked. The word ‘sister’ rang quietly in the back of her mind.
She didn’t know how to be one. Or if she even wanted to be one at all.

Still, an unwelcome ache deep inside her chest had given her enough pause to not walk out the door.

Ivor had shown her unprecedented kindness since the moment they’d met.
Perhaps she could repay it, in her way.

Turning, she leaned back against the door, arms crossing as one boot pressed flat against the wood behind her. Her eyes found Ivor’s again, their glowing hues of orange and purple mingling faintly in the dark.

“She’s hiding something from you,” Kira said quietly—flatly. No judgement, no emotion, just fact.

Ivor had been absentmindedly stretching out his back and cracking each knuckle individually as Kira closed the door shut and laid her truth on him. The giant simply stared at her, blinked, smiled and replied, “Ivor know already.” There was no shock in his voice, no anger of betrayal, just a quiet and resigned understanding. Kira studied him silently, taking in his body language, his expression, and the unbothered tone of his voice. It struck her then—that Ivor might understand more about the world than he let on, or at least more than he could articulate in the broken common tongue he spoke in.

And that maybe… maybe he didn’t need to walk through the world as rigidly as she did. Not every secret had to be pried from someone’s lips, not every hidden thing was a weapon waiting to turn on you. Ivor could allow others to come as they were, to present themselves however they wished, and he waited, patiently, for them to reveal their truths when they were ready.

Like Aleski.
Like her.

“Ivor has known since she asked to go to crystal cave…hmmm” he paused and mused, “perhaps Ivor should call it something else…fish cave maybe…”

Ivor knew he wasn’t good at lying and if asked directly by the prince or anyone else for that matter, he could only hope he wouldn’t reveal anything vital. It wouldn’t do him any good to be revealing her secrets, especially now that he knew they were secrets. Looking over at the other blightborn in the room though, he realized the solution was with him the whole time. “Miss Kira, you are good at the lying, perhaps you can give Ivor the…how you say..Pointers?”

Kira exhaled softly through her nose, a subtle huff of amusement slipping out. The corners of her lips lifted just slightly, her hard stare softening as Ivor somehow managed to disarm her again. With the Priestess gone, her walls had weakened—just a little.

“Don’t call it the fish cave,” she said dryly.

She hesitated, studying him. How exactly could she teach someone like Ivor—kind-hearted and sincere to a fault—to lie with a straight face? It would take years, maybe a lifetime. And more than that, it would cost him part of his soul to truly master it.

Lying wasn’t just a trick. It was an art. One that demanded a myriad of masks, practiced tones, carefully measured expressions, and a willingness to let go of guilt.

“Don’t bring it up.” She said, her tone sharpening. “To anyone. Not unless they ask you directly.”

Her gaze drifted to the floor, brows knitting together in thought. She didn’t know the full truth of what he was trying to hide, which made it difficult to shape a lie around, but she could try. For him.

“If they do ask… mix in the truth. Wrap it around the lie, but don’t touch what matters. Keep it simple. Don’t over explain. Too much detail, or not enough, makes people suspicious.”

She looked up at him again, watching to see if anything was sinking in.

Ivor’s focus was entirely on the woman in front of him, the explanation was simple and her terse vernacular easily flowed into his brain.

“Remember the story you’re going to tell, and say it like it’s true. With confidence, like you believe it.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying his face once more—those expressive eyes, the smile that always came too easily. “And control your expressions,” she added, grimacing slightly. That, she suspected, would be the most difficult part for him to manage.

“Use your language as a shield.” She said, thinking through all his possible weapons or means of defense. “If someone gets too close, act confused. Perhaps you don’t understand what they mean.”

Not knowing the common language perfectly—it could be a weapon, if he learned to wield it correctly.

“So,” she gestured to him, “what’s your story, if I were to ask what the crystal cave is?”

There was quite a lot for him to remember, but for the most part he understood what she was getting at. Avoidance would be the easiest way for him to remain silent, but if absolutely pressed he would need an excuse. He didn’t understand the common language as well as everyone else, they all knew it and she was right that he could use it to his advantage.

He closed his eyes and thought for a moment, searching his mind for the proper vocabulary. What would have been a proper excuse anyway? All Tia had asked him to do was show him the cave where he found the…the fish!

His eyes shot open as he looked at Kira and his mouth moved to speak before stopping. He remembered, just briefly, to control his expressions. A deep breath in and an exhale and Ivor returned his gaze on Kira with as soft a smile as he could muster. “Oh, crystal cave?” He tried to keep a low and even tone to his voice in an attempt to be casual. “Ah, you must mean the fish hole Ivor found! Yes, many many fish, in little holes in ice!” Breath Ivor, you’re getting too excited… the giant huffed, “Ivor thought it was a cave with many shiny stones, but was actually many glittery fish instead.” He gestured with his hands the size of the fish, a full bodied cod in appearance, “Ivor already bring to Syraea this morning, should last some time, yes.” He nodded, then his smile grew, “How did Ivor do?”

He stared in anticipation of her answer, watched her neutral expression that barely shifted and in that moment felt a deep sadness for her. The advice she had given was incredibly useful, but Ivor wondered just how many times she had used that advice to her own benefit? He knew she had not lied to him directly, that much was certain when she spoke of coming from the capital; but what truth was she avoiding? It seemed a lonely life to keep so many secrets and a confusing one to fabricate so many stories.

Something stirred in her. Warm and unfamiliar. She wasn’t sure what to call it—had she ever even felt it before?

It curled the corners of her lips into something far too genuine. A smile, entirely unguarded, as she watched Ivor formulate his lie. It was like watching a child take their first steps—clumsy but brave. There was pride in it. He had a long way to go, but she could appreciate his immediate effort.

Whatever this feeling, it cracked through her like sunlight through a storm cloud—sudden, bright, radiant and—
Uninvited.

Her smile had widened without permission, broad enough that her razor sharp canines flashed in the low light. Realizing it, her expression swiftly snapped shut—sealed on instinct. She pushed the feeling back down where it belonged. Deep. Out of reach.

“It’ll do.” she said, the words clipped but not cold. Not quite praise, but not disappointment either.

She pushed off the doorframe, clearing his exit, and stepped deeper into the room. “You’ll get the hang of it. With time.” Her voice softened, touched with a faint glimmer of dejection. “It’ll become second nature.”

As she passed him, something venomous coiled in the back of her mind. A whisper, dark and tempting: Reach in. Take it. Become shadow and slip beyond the barrier of his mind. Tear it from his memory. Make it yours.

Who were they to hoard secrets they could barely manage to keep? It would be easy.

But she didn’t.

She walked on, resisting the pull, forcing the impulse back into its cage.

She moved toward a table in the back, near a window—a quiet little perch from which to observe and vanish all at once. She would stay. Just a little longer.

Ivor watched her glide past him, a sadness of her own threatening to enwrap her. While he didn’t want to leave her in a melancholy state, he felt that their time to speak had passed and that whatever gripped her now required self-reflection. He too wondered what burdens she held onto her soul, what sort of secrets she continued to keep; but that was not his place to ask. She had helped him, even after he enlisted her aid involuntarily, and it was time to help her in return.

“Thank you, Miss Kira, for all your help. It is most appreciating.” He nodded and bowed slightly, before he made his way over to the door. Carefully pulling the latch he opened the door, ducking beneath the frame to exit out he looked back into the room while pulling the door. He paused, briefly, “Miss Kira…”

He stared at her, unsure of what to say. No, it wasn’t that, he wanted to say ‘It does not have to be like second nature,’ but the words held fast, unwilling to go further than his throat. Instead he swallowed and smiled, his eyes soft and weary.

“Please take care of yourself,” he nodded one last time and latched the door shut behind him.

Location: Walking about Town



Céline’s heart felt like it was bursting out of her chest, the feeling further exacerbated as Orion’s footsteps fell in tandem with every other beat. The man had listened to her passionate tirade with quiet contemplation and as he stepped forward Céline felt something different about him. He continued to wear his face still as stone, but something seemed more lax in his posture, as though she wasn’t perceived as an uncertainty any longer.

You don’t sound terrified.

Her eyes widened at his unbidden commentary, not entirely sure of how to respond. Orion seemed like the type to carefully choose his words, but just now they came across unabashed and honest. Her cheeks felt flush, her face suddenly feeling hot under his gaze.

Her eyes averted from his, but her smile remained just as soft, “I suppose it’s difficult to feel afraid when I have such an understanding guardian by my side.” Céline’s words flew out just as honestly, she felt at ease around him, this calming moor amongst a tumultuous sea filled with fear and regrets, sorrow, joy and anger, all the colors of the rainbow.

For months she’d been under scrutiny by those around her, wary eyes and stern hearts were what she was used to. Where she had expected slammed doors and freezing winds, she was greeted with the kindness of Priestess Tingara who stressed daily in her attempts to ensure Céline was comfortable. Where she had expected scorn and words of blasphemy she found an avid pupil in Aurora. Where she had expected rejection and expulsion, she had found a man with an open heart and mind. Orion had listened to not just her words but the meaning and origin behind them and now he was putting his trust into her.

He believed her to be brave, he was willing to vouch for her ability to live here, it was time to return the favor and put her faith into him.

Céline breathed deeply, “I appreciate your candor, Orion and your willingness to put your trust in me. I know this isn’t the final hurdle, but I hope not to disappoint you,” her eyes softened, lids lowering just slightly, “which is why I feel I need to reciprocate that honesty in kind. I didn’t just arrive here today, I came just before the storm had set in…”

Céline explained the events of the past week, how she’d arrived at the temple of Aelios, how she took a moment to appreciate the springs, how the void of negativity from that woman caused her to almost do the unthinkable. She also told him of the kindness of those there that day, how Tingara had taken her in and housed her during the storm. Briefly she spoke of Gadez, hoping the incarcerated man was being treated well, though she couldn’t offer much insight on him. She then spoke of her abilities…

“I’ve only been a blightborn a few months now, my abilities allow me to sense the emotions of others and use that sense to… help replenish myself. For the most part I’m able to control myself, pick and choose emotions like they're grains of rice. It..is not satisfying, but it’s what I do to survive,” the words felt bitter on her tongue, she felt like a hypocrite saying them. “Depending on the intensity of the emotion, I feel a stronger pull towards it, which is why that woman felt like such a beacon to me,” she closed her eyes, remembering the abject terror on the woman’s face just before she lost consciousness, “I hope I can see her again, I’d like to be able to apologize…somehow.”

Her eyes returned to meet Orion’s, “I can fully understand if you reconsider your stance, however I’m still willing to live here and if I do I’ll certainly do my best to gain control over these…urges.” Céline smiled, feeling much lighter than before. Whether or not Orion changed his mind, whether he allowed her to stay or exiled her, she could at least know she had the confidence to not hide the truth about her. “If I may, though, I do have an unusual request. I did not know the guard who died, but if it’s all the same I’d like to go and pay my respects. I don’t want to take up all of your time though, I’m sure being advisor to the prince has its multitude of duties.”


Interacting with Orion @Qia

Location: Eye of the Beholder


Kira’s quiet contemplation concerned Ivor as he watched her, trying to puzzle out what might be going on in her head. She was normally quiet, but this quiet felt…different; Ivor wondered if he might have said something wrong. As her gaze returned to meet him, his fears alleviated with her response and he beamed a wide smile back at her. She was still just as quiet, but this ‘different’ quiet felt good. She hadn’t returned the affection, just as Aleksi had done all those years ago, but she gave him a kind of acknowledgement, and more than likely the closest thing to a ‘thank you’.

Her mouth moved to speak again before a loud voice echoed throughout the tavern, causing even the likes of Ivor to turn in surprise. He blinked at the four armed man making his own grand entrance, a kindred spirit if there ever was one. Syraea was quickly on top of him, seemingly ready to chew out this man for disturbing the tavern’s peace, Ivor felt lucky that his own exuberance did not warrant him earning such tongue lashings. Kira’s voice brought him back to their conversation, another question about his old friend and comrade; not of the past, but of the present.

Ivor’s eyes closed as he searched his memories, as there was a time shortly after his transformation he continued to watch over his tribe. It was nearly seven summers ago now that the bear had encroached upon their village and Ivor’s untimely demise. He had watched over them, but even he realized at some point that they were better off on their own without another monster lurking in their midst. He had left, wandered the wilderness, surviving off the fat of the land. Whatever memories he had of Aleksi were left behind that day, of a warrior simply trying to survive and protect his people.

Ivor’s eye opened, a mixture of nostalgia and regret, “Ivor-”

Suddenly the four armed man had begun to sing, really sing. Ivor had found the common tongue to be a confusing language to learn, but coupling it with this blightborn’s accent only made the language more difficult to understand. In an attempt to tune it out and continue the conversation, Ivor spoke up to answer Kira.

“Ivor, shamefully does not know where Aleksi is…Last I saw him was many moons and summers ago. He is a warrior though, he is a protector of the tribe and if he is not with my people, then he has gone to Seluna.” Ivor smirked, “Ivor does not think a stubborn bastard like him would die so easily,” he closed his eyes, “but if he has, I hope that Seluna welcome him with open bosom.”

As Ivor’s eyes opened he noticed Kira looking…not quite at him but just to his right. Turning to follow her gaze he found that the Priestess from the temple was standing beside him, giving the giant a small wave. He blinked, a wide grin forming as he laughed at the sudden appearance of his adventuring companion, “Miss Priestess! Good to be seeing you again!” Ivor turned to Kira, “Miss Kira, have you met Miss Priestess? If it is not the trouble, she must join us!” Ivor was overjoyed at the sudden camaraderie at his table, but something nagged at him; Why was the priestess here? Gears suddenly clicked in place as Ivor looked at the priestess, “Miss Priestess, why are you here?!” His voice came off as genuinely concerned, quite loud too as he tried to speak over the singing pirate blightborn.

“After yesterday Ivor was was sure Miss priestess would be doing the resting, what with all the magic healing and the snow walking,” Ivor listed on each finger as he rattled off, “Oh, then you passed out in snow and Ivor carried you, and you snuggled in Ivor’s arms like catfish noodles in mud hole!” Ivor was getting excited. Reminiscing of the previous day’s adventure he turned to Kira as the shanty was ending, “Ivor must tell you about crystal cave! You see, it all started just before blizzard, when Ivor fell down hole-”


Interacting with: Kira @Muse, Tia @c3p-0h; mentions: Claret @Dezuel

Some journeys begin with a thousand steps….
…or end with a thousand tears


High atop the northern mountains, several eyes stared into the valley below, towards a village seated near a great lake. Even through the snow and fog they could see the smoke billowing from the buildings, a sure sign of life. Three individuals, each adorned in thick furs, leathers and heavy, woolen cloaks had gone ahead of their group to confirm the veracity of their destination.

“Seems the old man’s information was accurate,” a thinner woman spoke to his left, “suppose we can’t kill him now…”

“Not that I’d think he’d let us,” a bulkier man replied to his right, “at least not without a proper fight anyway,” the man shrugged, then turned their attention towards him, “It’s your call Wraithblade, how do you want to handle this?”

Icy blue eyes continued their observation of the valley below before turning his eyes upwards to the heavens. The clouds obscured his vision, his brow furrowed in response as though that might pierce the veil of stratus above. It had been some time since he’d been able to witness the heavens, to see the formation of stars and the passage of the moon. Even before the sun had been stolen from the sky the tribal druids had long learned the understanding of the world we live on and its relation to the rotation of celestial bodies. How many days have passed? How long had it been since they left their village behind? The blizzard had blinded him to the passage of time and even now he could not see with clarity, but the weather was beginning to change in his favor.

“Aleksi?” The thinner woman prompted him, and in response Aleksi turned his gaze upon them instead. Since the old man had joined their group and spoke to them of this ‘Dawnhaven’ they were gazing upon now; opinions remained varied. Plenty wish to find safe asylum, a new home to start over now that the blight had claimed their home, leaving them destitute. On the other hand, Lunarians and the tribes have historically never gotten along and if the location of the town was true, Blightborn living among them were probably just as true. Everything was telling him under normal circumstances to avoid this place like the blight itself; but these are trying times.

“We go down, we meet with their leaders,” The man beside him scoffed and Aleksi glared at him, his voice remaining even, “I understand there is apprehension and distrust, but as protector of our people I must think of the rest of the tribe,” Aleksi’s eyes turned towards the path below, back to where the remainder of his tribe waited. “We have lost so much already…we cannot afford to lose what we have left.”

The man sighed then asked, “Then we are just to march our people down there? They’d think they were under attack, they’d slaughter us.”

“Even a blind fool may look upon us and see we are no army,” the woman beside him retorted.

“Perhaps, but greater fools have achieved worse for far less…still they need to see us as we are…” Aleksi began crunching his way back through the snow, “We go as far as we need to, then I alone will approach the gates as envoy.”

“Alone? Are you mad, what if things go wrong?” The woman exclaimed.

He stopped then turned to the both of them, “Then I trust both of you will see our people to safety, while I die fighting to buy you all time to escape,” again he turned and continued along the path, “speaking of the old man, where is he now?”

“In the back of his wagon…he said something about ‘sleep’ before handing the reins off to one of the younger boys.” The woman answered him.

Aleksi raised an eyebrow, grunted in acknowledgement and spoke of it no further. He had a duty to fulfill, people to see to safety and as far as the old man was concerned, he had earned himself another day in life.

Location: Walking about Town



Céline snorted as she burst out in laughter, the seriousness in Orion’s face and the deadpan tone of his voice somehow delivering a punchline more thoroughly than any jester could. She turned away in an attempt to stifle herself down to a chortle, “Very well…Orion, I believe I can oblige,” she spoke in between breaths. As he began to move on she quickly calmed herself down, catching up with him and matching his speed as once again they were side by side.

She listened to him as he spoke again and the smile on her face began to slowly fade into something more serious. At the mention of there being deaths, Céline’s eyes flared open wide. Her mind returned to the previous evening, how the alarm had been sounded, how Ranni had been retrieved from the temple and a guard posted just for insurance. She knew last night had to have been dangerous, but for someone to have actually died due to the danger… She thought, bringing a knuckle to her mouth as she absentmindedly chewed on it. He was being careful with his wording, but there was a story in between the lines. A noblewoman was attacked and somebody died, and without saying that the culprit was jailed or killed it implied they were still at large. While it wasn’t expressly stated, she could only assume it was a blightborn that had attacked. Was he warning her that this wasn’t the best time for her to move in or was it a challenge to defy the standard norm?

Orion’s voice brought her back from her thoughts as she continued to listen, her brows furrowing slightly as he painted her a picture that was as bleak as it was doused in truths. Truths that she was far more familiar with than he or anyone realized. Burned into her very being, the little girl whose neck was caged in iron resonated with the words he used.

Condition?

Cursed


Politics?

Religious Fervor


Disappear into the snow?

Died in the sands


Her eyes closed as she lived through those memories again, a cursed child subject to the whims of nefarious beings, all for having existed. It was ironic how becoming a blightborn nothing had truly changed for her. Céline’s eyes opened once again ready to answer him, however she paused, noticing his gaze extending to somewhere beyond her. She turned to see what he was staring at, only to realize the subtle fluctuations within him were emoting something. It was so faint she barely registered it; even when he was feeling something, Orion seemed to have a careful hold over his emotions. At best she felt some sorrow, perhaps even pangs of regret, but nothing felt conclusive.

His attention soon returned as his eyes fell on her once again, awaiting her response, “I won’t lie, the whole prospect of moving here has me terrified.” She paused, folding her arms around her body, a way to protect herself, “I’ve been the subject of unspeakable human cruelty,” her hands clenched tightly around her sides, “but I’ve also borne witness to unfathomable levels of human kindness as well.” She slackened her grip a little, a soft smile growing on her lips. “By all means I should have died a long time ago, but a man saved me and when I asked him why he told me…”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re a saint or a sinner, when you’re under my care I’ll treat you all the same; a life that is worth saving so that you can have a life to go on living in.”

She had wandered away from the alleway into more open ground, the snow gently falling around her. She lifted her hand to catch a flake, its existence tethered to the cold, now withered from the heat of her hand alone. Her hand clenched into a fist as she turned back towards Orion, a glint of determination in her eyes. “I studied under that man so that I could save lives. Even if I’m hated for what I am, even if people don’t trust in what I can do, I have to try. I have to, because what I do goes beyond oaths or life itself; it’s just the right thing to do…” Her shoulders slumped, apparently having let off more steam than she had intended. “Besides…” she didn’t want to end her rant on such a drastic note, “I’ve already died once…can’t hurt to die again right?”


Interacting with Orion @Qia

Location: Walking about Town



The two walked together, along the town’s narrowing pathways, Céline listening to this man — Orion’s words, eyes observing his facial features, the way he carried himself. It felt so unusual to have to gauge this man, to use a skill she felt she’d lost yet was so innately familiar with. Just as within the wellspring of his emotion was calm, as it was without, his face chiseled fine as stone. Any cracks or twitches were so imperceptibly small she may as well have been staring at a statue. It left her feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety; the thrill of unraveling the unknown.

Orion,” he replied evenly, “Advisor to the prince. If titles matter to you.

A blightborn Aristocrat? That was the last thing Céline was expecting to hear, though it certainly explained his appearance and even somewhat his personality. When Céline first heard the rumours surrounding Dawnhaven, there was a doubt that such a farfetched place where their kind could coexist, let alone hold station. She supposed that blightborn came from all walks of life, having met a barbarian, a priestess and now nobility within the past day.

So, are you looking to stay? Or just passing through? The prince tends to favor those with useful hands. And steady hearts, of course.

The storm from last night had really piled on the snow and the street, hastily cleared, had forced the narrow pathway to thin and subsequently the gap between them as well. As finished buildings made way to those under construction, Céline felt compelled to stop at one of the unfinished plots. The snow was deep, but that didn’t deter her from walking knee deep in it, pushing her way to the finished foundation. Stepping onto the wooden platform she tested its stability with a few tender presses with her boot. The wood creaked in resistance, but did not give way under her weight. She took a few tentative steps around, imagining what the finished layout would be, what the streets would look like bustling, people living out their lives, coming to her for help. Céline closed her eyes and drew her hood back, her elongated ears standing at attention once more, the cold wind biting at her lobes, a refreshing sensation.

When her eyes opened again she turned to Orion and stepped back towards him, “I’m done with just ‘passing through’,” she stated, dropping off the platform to return to ground level with Orion, “The Prince doesn’t need to worry about my hands nor heart, both are in the right place I can assure you. I think he’ll find what my mind has to offer the most beneficial though,” she maintained composure. Tingara had mentioned there was an interview process involved so that she could be deemed worthy of staying here. Being the prince’s advisor, she wondered if he was conducting her this interview impromptu.

“Since you stated your title, I think it only fair I reciprocate in kind,” she folded her arms behind her back, “Doctor Moreau, practitioner of the medical arts. Though I find the full title rather stuffy and am open to continuing on a first name basis…should it please ‘My Lord’.” There was a playful smirk, a cheeky sort of glint in her eye; to tease and prod, to see how he’d react if at all.


Interacting with: Orion @Qia
Ivor, The Wild

Location: Eye of the Beholder


Ivor remained silent, his gaze sharpening as he assessed Kira’s answer, or lack of one. It was difficult to read people sometimes, especially one as even and measured as the woman sitting in front of him. Perhaps it was because of that eveness that he was able to see the smile falter from her lips, how the bottle in her hands suddenly stopped turning. Ivor could practically see the walls go back up around her as she guarded herself from his question, retaliating with a cursory response.

“Tell me about Aleksi.”

Her smile looked different now compared to earlier, Ivor wasn’t sure how to interpret it outside of falsehood. His eyes closed as he thought that, perhaps he delved a little too deep in trying to know her better, perhaps he’d been too sure in himself that she’d let him in further. Ivor’s eyes opened once more, soft again as the thought of how to answer her, because perhaps, right now, that liquor of Sya’s was hitting him harder than he anticipated and he should enjoy the company regardless.

He sighed, taking another small swig from his bottle, quickly tucking it away lest he be tempted further, “Just like you Aleksi, eh?” He spoke in his native tongue to no one in particular. “Where does Ivor begin?” the giant stroked his beard, leaning back as he contemplated his old friend.

“Aleksi is…man you can always depend on, but never truly understand what goes on his head.” Ivor gave a somewhat knowing smile, [color=9a45dc]“I think he liked it that way.” The smile quickly faltered and turned dour, [color=9a45dc]“People did not understand him or his nature, often they feared him because they judged too quickly, too harshly.” His eyes lowered to the table, his hand tightening into a fist, “How could they know him though? Know what he suffered, what he lost…” he stopped and sighed, hand relaxing once more, “It is not my place to say where he came from, only that it forged his heart to iron, his body into a weapon.”

Ivor’s face looked somewhere between contemplative and nostalgic, “He and I came from two very different lives, but we became fast friends, he is a man I would call my brother and I miss him dearly.” His face twisted as he began to snicker, “Though it took much, much longer for him to call me brother as well,” Ivor laughed, the alcohol lowering his inhibitions as he let the memory sweep his emotions.

When the man finally calmed down enough to breathe again, he sighed in relief, “It does not matter where we come from Miss Kira, where we call home is not the place where Ivor sleeps, but the people Ivor knows in his heart.” He looked at her, “I see the people and how scared they are, but also hope in the eyes and the faces. It reminds me of my people, of my home. Ivor think that, one day, he can call these people his brothers and sisters, can call Dawnhaven home.” Ivor smiled another toothy grin, cheeks flush with booze and honesty. “Ivor hope that one day you see the people here as home and as family, as Ivor sees you, Sister.”

Interacting with: @The Muse

Location: Aelios Temple → Heading into Town



Inside the temple’s guest chamber, Céline laid on her bed, anxious, ready, waiting. Sleep had eluded her that night, her mind racing with the conversation she had with Aurora, ready with a drive to begin her work; though it could also have just been the coffee. Regardless Céline had her gear packed and waiting by the door, she hadn’t even bothered to undress, simply laying on the bed and either staring at the ceiling or her watch inbetween thinking. Her watch silently ticked the time away, the only sound to permeate the darkness in the space around her. Her thumb idly glided over the polished metal, her only reliable source to tell the turning of the heavens now. Turning the silver over, she thumbed over the inscription engraved upon its surface.

Time waits for no one
And neither does death
Make every second count
Every last breath


A memento from her mentor, a reminder that not everything lasts, but still we try to tame death just so we can stretch it out one more day. In her case though she managed to overcome it, at least this once; whether it was a blessing or a curse, only time would tell.

Céline’s ears perked up as she heard activity throughout the temple, only a few people, Ranni being the most distinguishable. Morning was fast approaching and Céline waited for the right time and opportunity to slip out of the temple without anyone noticing her. When things quieted down enough she closed up the watch, slipped on her boots, grabbed her gear and snuck out through one of the side passages. Céline felt guilty for not letting Tingara know she was leaving, but given her emotional state upon returning in the middle of the night, it was probably for the best for now. She’d have to return later and properly thank her for the hospitality, assuming the prince would allow her sanctuary here.

Céline forged her way into town, creating a meandering trail of footprints in the freshly laden snowscape. As she closed the distance, she tucked her ears beneath her coat’s hood so as to somewhat obscure her blighted features. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing to do and it hampered her hearing somewhat, but she made due with feeling others emotions around her blindspots.

Today would be her first official foray into town since arriving in Dawnhaven. Despite wanting to be down here, she couldn’t help but feel that subtle apprehension, of a fear she’d be run out of town for being discovered as ‘blighted’. Pushing those feelings down she pressed onward, entering the town proper and taking in the sight of the buildings. Haphazardly constructed, but not shoddy, an actual town had been built — was being built out here in the middle of nowhere. There was something to be admired about human perseverance, where some might consider being sent out here a death sentence, others would see an opportunity. This wasn’t just an opportunity to be seen or seized by humans though, it required the cooperation of both man and monster to make this happen; however did the prince manage to pull this off?

Passing by the first set of buildings into the township, she felt it. Subtly at first, but with not many people about or awake yet, it wasn’t difficult to distinguish the growing anxiety of the nearby guards. Even if she couldn’t have felt their emotions directly, it wasn’t hard to see how uptight and stiff the men looked. Scared, anxious, it was a bad combination, coupled with misperception or misinterpretation, it could very well spell the end of her life…again. Céline had already come this far, she couldn’t just stop and turn around now, not without making herself look suspicious on top of it. The woman considered her options, she needed to live here, but she didn’t want to die without getting an opportunity to prove herself either. Perhaps she could go down a side street and turn back to the temple, and though it’d bother her to ask another favor of Tingara, maybe it would be best to come back with someo-

You’re not from around here.

Céline’s breath hitched as a voice spoke up from beside her, surprise stealing her steps as she turned to face the sudden intruder. A young man, pale skin and burning crimson eyes; another blightborn. How in the goddess did he sneak up on her? Granted her hearing was not as good as it normally was in the moment, but she should have felt him, shouldn’t she? She tried to feel for something, anything, wanting to will it forward and yet she was met with a stillness. It wasn’t that there wasn’t any emotion coming from within, and while most exuded tumultuous waves of emotion, this man’s was more akin to a fresh dew on morning grass. The way he held his emotions felt so subtle, subdued, “So quiet…” she barely breathed above a whisper.

If you’re heading into town, I can show you the way. The streets wind more than they should for a place this small.

She regained focus on his face, realizing she hadn’t answered him from before, “I…” she hesitated, feeling the tension from the other guards. They still seemed on edge, but almost like they were waiting for something, maybe waiting for the man before her? “Yes,” she answered, “I don’t really know my way around and could use the help,” she stretched out her arm, “please, lead the way.” Just as before, they stepped together side by side and almost immediately she could feel the tension leaving the guards behind her. It seems her intuition about the guards waiting was right, though given the attire this man was wearing, perhaps he was somebody important? He certainly carried himself well, one that held a sense of authority and wasn’t reeking in vainglorious ego.

“You were correct in your assumption,” she spoke after walking a short distance, “I’m not from around here, though I’m hoping to change that.” Her glassy eyes found their way towards his crimson ones, a small smile on her lips, “My name is Céline, and how may I address my escort today?”


Interacting with: Orion @Qia; Mentions Tia @c3p-0h, Ranni @Queen Arya , Aurora @BlackRoseSiren
Ivor, The Wild

Location: Eye of the Beholder


The young woman’s gaze met with his and she returned his smile with a small one of her own, greeting him with the morning and offering an invite to join her at the table. He nodded and sized up the chair across from her, something that was probably three sizes too small for his massive frame. He debated the odds, knowing that he’d shattered at least two of Sya’s chairs already, though only one of those incidents involved him actually sitting in it. He assessed the chairs’ integrity as best he could, but was determined to be as careful as possible while lowering himself down unto the wooden mound. The chair audibly groaned under his weight, but held up the blightborn’s frame without breaking. Feeling secure he hunched his body lower to the table so he was more eye level with his compatriot across the table.

“So far, it has been a good morning Miss Kira,” he nodded, recounting the events that had played out so far, “I brought back fish for the people, I met with Miss Syraea this morning,” he turned to look at the tavernkeep as she set about bringing food and other sustenance to the human patrons, “She seems well, and happy.” Despite her recent transformation and the fears she confessed to him, to Ivor it felt like Sya was exactly where she belonged, even if she didn’t fully realize it herself. Turning his attention back to Kira, a big grin plastered on his face, he looked her up and down as well. “You seem to also be in the.. Eh, how they say, ‘in the spirit of the good’?” He scratched his chin, unsure if that was the correct sentiment, but overall compared to the night he found her, and hunted together, she looked much healthier and far less pallid. “Eh..What Ivor means is, ‘Miss Kira you are looking well this day’.” Eris’ ‘how to approach others’ advice rang in his ears as he folded his arms, nodding solemnly that this was correct; though something hard was poking him in the arm.

Eyes squinting with confusion he felt around for what was poking him, only to realize it was the bottle of homemade liquor Sya had given him. The blightborn giant wasn’t used to holding onto things discreetly so he’d almost forgotten about it. A glint twinkled in Ivor’s eye as a devilish thought occurred, one that involved him sampling the concoction here and now. He briefly looked around, eyes darting from side to side before hunching even lower to the table. A hand raised and beckoned Kira to lean in closer as he lowered his voice to a strained hush, “Do not be telling anyone, but Ivor also has the ‘spirit of good’ in a little bottle,” he put a finger to his lips, making a shushing motion as he attempted to discreetly pull the container from his tunic; at least as discreetly as a three hundred pound man of muscle could. He eyed over the bottle, clear liquid inside giving off a subtle effervescence of fermentation. “Ivor has not actually tried this yet, but Miss Syraea says it should taste like home.”

Ivor uncorked the bottle, pressing a nostril towards the opening as he took a whiff. What happened next felt like an eternity passing, but was more than likely a few seconds. The aromatic pungence of hard liquor, combined with the gentle notes of flora, juniper berry and honey blasted its way through the blightborn’s sinuses. The scent flared up his nostrils and his whole face felt like it was burning, his body’s natural response was to expel the scent as violently as it had encroached.

With a mighty bellow and blow, Ivor sneezed.

The winds of change were upon the table and the gale was fast approaching Kira.

Fortunately no viscous fluids had left his body and he was already ahead on inhaling whatever remnants were trying to escape down his gullet. A deep breath and a quick wipe with the back of his wrist band, Ivor smiled sheepishly at Kira, “Ivor apologize.” He resumed examining the container, then knocked it back, gulping down a couple glugs before pulling the bottle away. The burning sensation down his throat was almost immediate and Ivor couldn’t help but hiss as he breathed in to fight back. The sensation was short lived as the warmth travelled down his belly, coating his stomach in a way that felt both familiar and filled him with a sense of bliss. Sya was right, this was home in a bottle and more memories came flooding back of bygone days.

The blightborn sighed, “I have been thinking of my old home much today, the village and its people. In many ways they are much like the same here, yet so very different.” He looked at Kira, her eyes calculating, her demeanor composed and her contemplation so very quiet. Ivor couldn’t help but chuckled a little, “You would have like Aleksi I think, you and him, very much the same, very calm, very…” he thought for a moment as how best to say it, before simply attempting to match Kira’s brooding face; although it more looked like strained grumpiness. After a few seconds of making the face he couldn’t help but laugh. The laughter faded into a bittersweetness, “Ivor know, he can never go home, never go back to village, but on days and nights when it is difficult, thinking of home helps.” He stared at Kira, watching her thoughts process, realizing he really didn’t know much about her. “If it is not minded, Ivor is wondering, before coming here, what did Miss Kira call home?”

Interacting with: Kira @The Muse
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