c3p-0h

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: The Eye of the Beholder}

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Elio’s smile widened as she leaned in, her eyes bright with challenge. Her words were sharp, even as she played the game with him, measured the silence, charged the air. He watched the way the firelight danced in her eyes like mischief.

“Maybe what helps you helps me.” His voice was lower, as molten as his gaze. He watched the way her fine scarf rippled under her touch, soft and bright. Her delicate fingers – with just a hint of dirt on them – captured his attention again.

When she finally reached forward, those fingers curling around the bottle just below his own, he locked eyes with her again. His muscles tensed ever so slightly in anticipation. His smile revealed a sharp canine tooth, as his eyebrow raised. His grip tightened against the neck of the bottle, his finger brushing hers for a moment. Her words were a liquor all their own, and Elio drank them in. Her soft voice, her focused gaze… he leaned forward, tugging the bottle – and her hand with it – ever closer to his body.

But when she pulled back, bottle in hand, he offered no resistance. The ozone in the air snapped away as she sat back in her seat, breaking their connection. Bold thing, she didn’t even flinch as she took a swig from bottle.

Elio dropped back into his chair and laughed. It was warm and amused, a departure from all his sly smiles and weighted looks. When he looked back at the woman across the table, it was to reevaluate.

He hadn’t missed the way she’d clammed up around the innkeep – or how she seemed to be actively fortifying her nerves right now, even as she looked at him with a challenge in her gaze, those full lips still glistening with alcohol. Her grip was tight around the bottle. He thought of that dirt under her nails again. He wondered if she had callouses, too.

Well done.

Movement over her shoulder caught Elio’s eye. He glanced up. That woman from before, the dancer, had found a table. All done with her bard, it seemed. The man in question had returned a good deal earlier, striking up the music once again. And now the dancer was sat all alone, a melancholic look on her face. Tryst hadn’t gone as she’d hoped, then? He watched her force a smile on her face in time for the innkeep to slither to her table. His view was cut off, though when the door opened and a familiar figure all but stomped into the building – Aliseth. Curiosity bloomed in Elio’s chest like a stain on a fresh sheet. He was in a mood. And weren’t all the guards on duty?

Elio watched Aliseth shove his way through the rowdy tavern crowd. Then he was out of sight.

He refocused on the woman in front of him. Smile never faltering, he slipped back into their game like he’d never left.

“Once again, you mistake me. When did I say pride was a fault?” He took a moment to look away from her again, as though he were weighing something in his mind. “As long as you’ve got something worthy of that pride,” he amended. Elio put his hand on the table, fingers splayed wide as he slowly pushed himself to his feet.

“A skill.”

He took a languid step, fingers dragging along the worn grain of the wood.

“A trade.”

Moving along the table, he watched as the firelight wove gold into her fiery hair. He watched the light ripple over her fine scarf. But most of all, he watched her eyes – how the shifting colors darkened as his shadow moved over her, blocking the lanterns.

“A claim.”

He’d walked all the way to her side of the table now, standing so he was nearly behind her. The hand that he’d been dragging along the table continued its path to the bottle. Calluses scratched over the back of her palm, over her slender fingers, as his hand warmed the space above hers. His fingers curled around the bottle, now stolen twice over.

“You got anything like that? Aside from a talent for assumption and a pretty smile?” Elio bet he’d still be able to taste the alcohol on her lips.

He leaned down, his chest to her back. He didn’t touch her – not there, at least – but it was still close enough to feel the warmth coming off of her. When his head was level with hers, he spoke.

“You ever need a new pedestal to perch yourself on, ask for the stonemason.” Elio’s voice was low and molten, like flickering embers. He moved just a bit closer, close enough to smell the fresh scent of her shampoo. He wondered if that was heat crawling up her neck, or just the dim glow of the fire. His breath pushed at strands of her hair. He smirked and murmured into her ear, “I promise my pride is earned.”

Elio lifted the drink from the table and took one last pull before placing it back in front of her. He savored the burn as it went down. Then he straightened to his full height.

“Enjoy your drink,” he said, mirth in his voice. He gave her one last look.

Then Elio turned and made his way through the tavern crowd.

There wasn’t much weaving he had to do. Elio was large enough, and moved with enough authority that most automatically made space for him. Or perhaps he just claimed the space for himself. Either way, the result was the same – Elio stepped through the crowd that parted and reformed around him as he made his way towards the bar. His eyes honed in on the one he’d been searching for: Aliseth, dropped on a barstool, drinking.

Well, Elio decided, now he had to know what this was about.

Armando was in the stool next to him (why was this guy fucking everywhere) speaking with yet another unfortunate woman. Elio caught his eye and leveled him with a look. The conversation stopped immediately and the spineless fop made himself scarce before Elio was even within a meter of him.

Elio dropped into the newly vacated seat next to Aliseth.

“Aliseth Kain, drinking on the job.” He sounded almost scandalized. “Dunno whether to be proud or disappointed. Wearing you down was half the fun.” He cast a look over to the guard, taking in his stormy demeanor and the less than sparkling state of his uniform.

“Y’look like shit.”

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_{Interactions: Thalia Evercrest @Qia, Aliseth Kain @Dark Light
Mentions: Nyla Zafira @The Muse}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: The Sun Temple}

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Tia shrank back from Dyna’s hard look – she knew this look. It wasn’t often that she saw it, but it stabbed at her with a familiar hurt all the same. Dyna, cold and sharp as steel, walled herself off where Tia couldn’t reach her so that she could do what needed to be done. But there was something different to it this time. The edge in her gaze seemed a little harsher. The grip on Tia’s hand seemed more clinical. Something had changed.

Well, Tia supposed, many things had changed.

She could only step to the side and watch as Dyna arrested Gadez. Staff still planted on the ground, Tia moved closer to it, her other hand curling around the wooden haft. It wasn’t as if she could hide behind it – nor could it anchor her, with how carefully she had to hold it to keep from going off balance. But Tia moved around it like it had its own gravity.

Dyna announced her orders. Her armor clanked and rubbed against cloth as she moved. The fire crackled in the hearth. And throughout it all, Gadez was silent.

Then his eyes, pale as the moon and burning as the sun, opened. They found Tia. Her hands tightened around the smooth, worn grain of the weapon’s haft. A glance. A nod. A wink. And then Dyna and Gadez were gone. It seemed as though they’d taken all the air with them.

Tia was frozen in the center of the room, clinging to the staff. The little bowl of soup still rested atop her bedside table.

Her back to the door, Tia gave herself another breath to not be real.

_{She was a blinding moment in the quiet of eternity.}

Then she turned, staff still held in place, to face the others at her broken door: Ranni with her nervous confusion, the hulking man with the unfamiliar accent, and Céline – Céline.

Tia shrank back into her room, as though another inch or two of distance would be enough to protect Céline from her roiling emotions. The doctor wasn’t safe here, not while Tia’s own mind threatened to drown her. Tia tried to muffle her nerves. Meeting Rani’s eyes, she fixed a weak smile on her face. She knew it was unconvincing. She knew the younger woman would have worries and questions. Tia held her gaze, her smile tightening as she willed her sister to understand – It’s alright. Later.

Her eyes moved past her sister to look to Céline deeper in the temple. She looked back to Ranni and repeated the gesture.

Tia knew Ranni’s emotions were likely a jumble just as hers were. But she seemed to be holding it together better than Tia was at the moment, and Tia knew that if she got much closer to the doctor, her emotions would threaten to overwhelm her. It had been enough of a struggle to protect Céline from Tia’s latent anxiety in the week they’d spent together in the temple with Gadez. Their first meeting flashed in Tia’s mind – Céline, delirious and ill after absorbing the wayward turmoil of another person.

Between the two of them, Tia hoped that Ranni was the safer option to see to whatever the doctor needed. They’d been talking together just a moment ago, afterall.

Which just left the unkempt giant taking up the full width of the hallway. Both hands still holding the staff to keep it balanced, Tia gave a small, hesitant bow in greeting.

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_{Interaction: Gadez Paladice @Dezuel, Dyna and Ranni Soleil @Queen Arya, Céline Moreau, Ivor the Wild @SkeankySnack}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: The Eye of the Beholder}

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Elio smirked as he looked over at the woman – all pouting and puffed up like a displeased little bird. But her eyes stayed trained on him.

“You mistake me for a man of generous spirit,” he said lightly. He tilted the bottle so it balanced against the table along its bottom rim, spinning it lazily. The firelight danced through the amber glass, casting its glow against the wood. It matched the flickering light in his eyes. His posture never changed from the unbothered slouch. “Unfortunately I never had the chance to develop such benevolence. Too baseborn, y’see.”

Not like her.

Elio finally let his eyes drift over her fully. Her vibrant hair, the fine embroidery of her scarf, her expensive coat… she’d walked the short distance from the stairs to the table like she’d had a book placed upon her head. She looked at him now with confidence, if a bit of wariness (and interest, if he was feeling cocky (he was)). Everything about her screamed upper class (though, they didn’t do much screaming up there, did they? Too prim and proper to do much more than tut or trill. But Elio was willing to help the little bird find her voice, if she’d like).

But there – her hands. They were slim, delicate things, sitting atop her crossed arms. Thin lines of dirt sat beneath her nails, separating pink from white.

Elio met her gaze again, that amused, unbothered smile still on his face.

“Better to be selfish when you’ve got to work for what you have.” He wondered what would come first, her in his bed or a drink in his face. He really should order her one, he thought, just to make it more interesting. “I saw an opportunity, is all.”

Elio finally shifted in his seat, leaning forward. His muscles worked slow and easy beneath his shirt, pushing him closer to this highborn woman as he held her gaze. Elbows propped on the table, bottle held loosely in his workman’s hands, the corner of his mouth quirked up as his smile widened. The chaos of the bar seemed to dull to a hum as his attention narrowed to this woman and the way the firelight stained sunset across her features. Elio’s voice was low and conspiratorial as he murmured –

“I just can’t stand the prick who tried to sit here.”

Mirth danced in his eyes as he watched her. Then he leaned back to that familiar slouch, tipping his drink back into his mouth again.

Someone new slithered up to their table. Elio finally looked away from the woman to see the newly serpentine innkeeper greeting them, alcohol thick in the air around her. He raised an eyebrow. The tail was new, but Elio could at least recognize this Dawnhaven fixture, even if she didn’t know him. Had he really been so unremarkable in these last two months? There wasn’t a barkeep in the capital that didn’t know him on sight alone. A fair few had banned him.

Had he lost his touch? He’d simply have to do a better job making an impression.

He met her gaze with a smile as she eyed him (ha) and offered her greetings. Elio smiled as he raised his pilfered bottle up to the innkeep — not that she knew how he’d gotten it.

“I’m well familiar with your bar,” he said, voice smooth. He’d cut and laid the stone himself. He’d laid enough patrons out and laid the rest up. “Wonderful selection you have.”

And then she was gone again, and once again it was just the two at the table. Elio took another slow drink from his bottle, feeling the heat finally start to buzz under his skin. He watched the crowd.

“Say I did have a cure for whatever it is that ‘plagues’ you,” he said, still watching the other patrons. He tilted his head towards her, casting her a glance. Elio raised the bottle slightly towards her in offering – though she’d have to reach towards him to grab it.

“Proud thing like you… would you even take it?”

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_{Interactions: Thalia Evercrest @Qia, Syraeia Leela @PrinceAlexus}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: The Eye of the Beholder}

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Elio savored the crisp winter air on his skin as he leaned against the pine tree and looked up at the moon. His partner — for the final time, he reminded himself — had long since scurried off to make herself presentable again. But Elio wasn’t quite ready to leave this afterglow yet.

Bathed in silver moonlight, he let out a long, slow breath. He hadn’t stopped smiling — not just from the sex, though that’d been enjoyable enough. It wasn’t just the knowledge that had his mood soaring either, though that was a delicious turn of events. Prince Flynn Astaros of Aurelia, founder of Dawnhaven, golden son of prophecy, and royal pain in his ass had a paramour. And a blight-born one at that. He wondered if his wife knew. Elio snorted to himself.

No, Elio was savoring the potential that filled him. That week indoors really had been torture. Elio was a man of action. He could feel it though — the whole town seemed to vibrate with energy, like the charged stillness right before a storm. The air promised an eruption. He didn’t know when, or how, but he could feel it building, and soon enough there would be a glorious storm to put himself in the middle of. Maybe he’d even have a hand in causing it.

Oh, what fun he would have. It really was good to be back.

When Elio finally reentered the tavern, he found it raucous and alive with music. His grin widened as he drank in the energy. Instruments were suspended in the air with enchanting golden light and patrons clapped along with drunk smiles and flailing dance moves. Elio scanned the crowd as he walked along the perimeter towards the bar. He wondered idly if this Nyla was still here. She’d sounded rather heartbroken by the end of the show outside. Perhaps she’d already hidden herself away to lick her wounds.

Perhaps she’d prefer someone else to lick them for her.

Elio trailed his eyes over the different blight-born women, as though he’d be able to tell which one he’d heard based on their face alone. But he paused though, when someone else caught his eye.

There, dancing in the middle of the crowd, was a woman. He could only glimpse her through the bodies, like catching strands of sunlight through a forest canopy. But how she shined. She danced with fluid, imprecise movements, all energy and joy as she spun. Her full lips parted in a laugh as she locked eyes with her partner — the blight-born musician, likely responsible for the enchanted instruments. The woman’s tanned skin, her dark, curling hair, her vibrant clothes — an Aurelian nomad, he realized. Or at least a descendant. His father’s line had supposedly come from one of the wandering nomad tribes, before settling in one place. But then, he supposed his father had taken to travel too, when he’d decided to leave Aurelia. And now here was Elio, miles from home himself. Not by choice, of course — the bitter pang of indignation shot through him at having been sent away. But still. He had traveled far to Dawnhaven. Just like her.

He watched the dancing woman through the crowd. Her bright eyes twinkled like stars. And for a moment, Elio was enraptured. There was nothing quite like watching someone in love with what they could do.

And then the song came to an end. The crowd soan to messy conclusions with their dances, erupting into laughter and applause. But the woman — she held the bard’s gaze with a soft smile and leaned in to whisper something. Elio watched her hand curl around his, tugging slightly towards the back door of the tavern.

He couldn’t help the soft huff of laughter. It seemed everyone was having the same idea today.

Finally allowing himself to move from his spot at the edge of the bar, Elio continued his path. The crowd was still distracted, still chattering and laughing as they came down from the high of the music.

So no one noticed him casually reach behind the bar as he walked, grabbing the first bottle his hand touched.

Elio lifted the bottle to his lips, biting down on the cork with his canines and yanking it out with a hollow pop. He spat the cork out towards the edge of the room and took a hearty swig. The burn and swirl of the alcohol filled him as he strode through the room — and his eyes caught the firelight glow of orange hair.

She stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking around the tavern like she was lost. Slight, almost doll-like, she seemed pure and demure in a way that made him want to corrupt. And he’d always had a weakness for redheads.

She straightened her little scarf and marched into the tavern like she was going into battle. Elio raised an amused eyebrow. He could approach her. He was sated for now, and he didn’t specifically need to find a new partner immediately. And it wasn’t like it would be difficult to find one when the time came (say what you would about Astaros (and he did) but for some reason there was no shortage of beautiful, adventurous women in Dawnhaven). But a little flirting could be fun. And maybe he’d want to go after this one later. He could lay a foundation, as it were.

He watched the redhead move towards an empty table and perch herself delicately on a seat. Then a man started to approach her. Archibald… Augie… Elio didn’t know his damn name. All he knew was the man was annoying and had complained incessantly about the details of the stone wall he’d commissioned around his home.

And just like that, Elio’s decision was made (though, had it ever really been in question what he would decide?).

Elio strode towards the table just as the other man started to open his mouth and pull out the chair opposite the redhead. Elio casually reached up to grab the back of his collar and yanked. The chairlegs grunted on the floor as Anatole, or whoever, stumbled backwards with a yelp. Elio didn’t even slow his pace as he walked past him and dropped himself into the chair. He slouched into it, an arm over the chair back, the bottle held loosely in two fingers, his legs wide and feet planted on the floor. Elio looked up at the man as he tried to right himself. Face reddening, he opened his mouth, like he’d actually have a response to Elio. The mason just raised an eyebrow, a glint in his eye.

Go on then, start something.

The man paused as Elio held his gaze. Then something seemed to wither in him. He didn’t even look at the redhead as he turned and marched away. Elio huffed, only slightly disappointed. Wouldn’t’ve been any real fun anyway.

Taking another sip of his drink, Elio took a moment to settle into his new chair, to take in the crowd from this new angle. The he glanced over at woman, like it was the first time he was taking her into account.

“You didn’t want him sitting here,” he said, the low thrum of his voice drifting over the table. He didn’t bother looking her over. Instead he just held those lovely hazel eyes with his. Elio brought the lip of the bottle to his mouth, savoring the burn of alcohol that spilled down his throat – something spiced, and fragrant, and far too pretty for a dump like this. He swallowed. Then he placed the bottle on the table and looked back out towards the crowd. “Spits when he talks. And he talks.” Arnold (fuck it, sure) was across the tavern already, trying his luck with some other woman. Poor thing was already flinching away from him. The corner of Elio’s mouth twitched up and threw another look to the woman across the table. “Would’ve had you fleeing back upstairs and you'd've missed all the fun.”

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_{Interactions: Thalia Evercrest @Qia
Mentions: Nyla Zafira @The Muse, Aldrick Corveaux@SpicyMeatball}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: Outside the Tavern}

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After a week of being cooped inside, Elio Azkona had grown painfully, deliriously, bored. He intended to make this all of Dawnhaven’s problem. He was starting off slow, though. Measured. Moderated. The woman he currently had pinned against a tree wasn’t even married.

They were hidden in darkness, but for the light of the moon filtering through the pines that towered above them. Muffled sounds echoed from around the tree – the rowdiness of the tavern, the chattering voices of half the town gathered for some asinine celebration. Though his immediate instinct had been to buck at the summons that’d been placed on his door this morning, Elio had still been drawn towards the promise of people – of action.

He had his hand cupped around the back of the woman’s head, his fingers tangling her hair. His other hand had slipped into her coat, her buttons long undone. His arm curled around her waist, his hand flat against her back with only the thin fabric of her dress separating them. She clung to him as they kissed, her hands clawing at his back through his shirt. Elio hadn’t bothered with a coat – his blood had always run a little hotter than the average Lunarian’s. His hand in her hair tightened to a fist and he pulled down, forcing her to lift her chin. He drank in all her little sounds as he moved from her lips and down her neck.

This wasn’t the first time they’d done this. No, Elio and this particular little morsel were getting familiar enough that he knew exactly when she was going to gasp and what it would sound like when he flexed his arm, pulling her tighter against him. He still couldn’t remember her name, though. Elio doubted she knew his – he hoped she didn’t know his. If she could still focus enough to remember his name, then he wasn’t doing a good enough job. But of course, maybe this was a losing battle – Elio was a difficult man to forget.

She was getting a bit attached, though. When they’d spotted each other from across the tavern, she’d lit up like she’d been searching for him. He’d met her smile with a wicked grin of his own, watching the way the firelight spun gold through her auburn hair. She’d slipped through the crowd towards the backdoor, and Elio had taken a swig of his drink. But he stayed where he was sat. He watched the crowd. This would likely have to be the last time with her, he decided. Disappointing.

He’d just have to make sure it was worth his while.

When Elio finally exited the tavern’s backdoor, he found her shivering in the snow, pert little nose red and her arms wrapped around herself. He’d barely looked at her as he’d wrapped a large hand around hers and tugged her towards the treeline. And when he’d spun abruptly to press her into the hard bark of the nearest pinetree, she’d gasped and giggled, and melted into him like he was a furnace.

All in all, not a bad way to reenter society.

That is, of course, until they heard the tavern door opening again.

They froze and Elio’s hand slipped out of her hair to cover her mouth. He locked eyes with the nameless woman, the energy between them buzzing like electricity. Her eyes were wide – but then he saw them start to crinkle with mischief. Elio’s lips lifted in a smirk. They stood frozen against each other as whoever had opened the door moved through the snow.

"Why are you here, Nyla?" Elio knew that voice – that irritating voice that belonged to the one person in town who had any real authority over him. Annoyance shot through him reflexively. Maybe they should continue their rendezvous, if only to give the little prick a show.

But something gave Elio pause – he didn’t just know that voice. He knew that tone. He’d heard it enough times from the lips of women, frantic to get him out the door when their husbands came home. Suddenly, Elio wanted nothing more than for the Prince to keep talking.

“I’m sorry, Flynn. I know I shouldn’t be...” Flynn. She called him by his name. She had an enchanting voice, smooth and expressive like velvet – Elio wanted nothing more than to look around the tree that hid them to see this woman who’d managed to make Astaros so panicked. Because whoever she was, she most definitely wasn’t his wife.

Elio’s eyebrow quirked up as he listened. The woman he held was breathing hard, her chest moving against him. Elio pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Slowly, he brought his hand from her lower back up, up, up, to grip around the nape of her neck. The coat strained against them, the added mass of his arm making the fabric tight. His other hand slipped away from her mouth, to trail down the line of her waist. He wondered what it would take to get her to make a sound loud enough for the other couple to hear.

“But, I… We… We can’t—”

Elio wanted to laugh. Yes, he knew that tone, too. He pressed a line of soft kisses down the woman’s face – her temple, her cheek, her jaw. By the time he was back at her neck, the little royal melodrama seemed to be winding down. Elio bit down at the woman’s pulse point, smothering her sharp gasp with his hand returning to her mouth. He smiled into her skin.

“...Each blight-born undergoes an interview..." Blight-born? Well well well… wasn’t that interesting.

It wasn’t long before he heard Astaros’ morose trudging through the snow. Then the door opened, and closed, and the show was truly over.

Elio pulled away from the woman’s neck. He finally let out a low, rumbling laugh as he looked up to the moon shining through the trees, silver and full. This really was too good. The moon seemed brighter, suddenly. The chill that bit at his cheeks was teasing, rather than scolding. And the untouchable Golden Prince had some dirt on him after all. Turning his attention back to the woman, Elio cupped her face in both hands, a thumb moving over the crest of her cheek.

“Oh, you beautiful thing,” he murmured. She looked back up at him, pupils blown wide and a tempting smile curling her lips. Elio captured her mouth in a kiss like he meant to consume her.

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_{Mentions: Flynn Astaros and Nyla Zafira @The Muse}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: The Sun Temple}

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Tia slowly opened her eyes, blinking away the bright spots that danced in front of her vision. Even with her eyes closed and her sleeve as a barrier, the light from Dyna’s shield had been a formidable flash. Her arm lowered as Dyna’s commanding voice filled the room. Her heart still hammered in her chest as she tried to reorient herself. Somehow Gadez had ended up in front of her, and once again Tia found herself searching for Dyna’s eyes from behind his back.

Dyna was arresting him. Somewhere in her mind, Tia knew that this was the logical response – he’d spoken of treason so openly, so brazenly, and to a member of the clergy no less. But still, with her frantic swirl of thoughts, Tia was desperate to deescalate.

Gadez was talking now. His voice was unbothered as ever. His weapon landed on the floor with a graceless thud. He was… giving himself up? Her eyes snapped up to his smiling profile, stepping to the side so she wasn’t behind him anymore. His eyes were still closed. The slight tension he held around them was the only indication that he’d been affected by the light at all.

Dyna kicked his weapon away. Tia flinched at the sharp clatter. Her sister met her eyes, as if to confirm once again that she was unharmed. Then she looked down at the staff, and back up to Tia in a silent command. Because there was something Gadez was wrong about: Tia couldn’t overrule Dyna. Not when it came to matters of safety. Dyna might’ve deferred to Tia for most things, but once weapons were drawn, Dyna’s status as a Champion meant she was in charge.

Tia forced herself to leave Gadez’s shadow. With shaking hands she reached down to grasp it. It was longer than she was tall, with a simple wooden shaft and a wicked double edged blade. A metal ball was secured to the other end of the shaft, for balance presumably. The wood was smooth and worn where Tia wrapped her hands around it — and unmoving. Tia blinked, before hefting with more force. It was heavier than she’d expected. Memories of Gadez practicing with it swam through her mind, how fluid he’d seemed, like this mass of wood and cold metal had been an extension of him. It felt unwieldy in Tia’s hands, like one wrong move would send her toppling.

Slowly, carefully, she walked in an arc through the room to stand by Dyna’s side, facing Gadez. He was smiling still. How was he smiling? If Dyna had heard enough to arrest him… the punishment would be sharp. Panic was the blood running through Tia’s veins. Steadying the ball end of the weapon on the ground, she placed her free hand softly on Dyna’s arm. Tia leaned in, angling her chin up to whisper voicelessly in her ear. It was nothing but enunciated air, her throat still raw and burning.

‘He’s confused.’ That had to be it, right? The things he’d claimed about the blight, Aelios, her…

His face flashed in her mind — how softly he’d looked at her. How plainly he’d declared that he wasn’t a danger to her, like it was as true as the ticking of the clock.

‘He’s… unwell.’ Tia’s grip tightened on Dyna’s arm as she pulled back. She tried to catch the Champion’s gaze, to silently ask for understanding.

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_{Interaction: Gadez Paladice @Dezuel, Dyna Soleil @Queen Arya}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: The Sun Temple}

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Doubt crept into her mind as Gadez reached around her to close the door fully, and invited her to sit on her own bed. All the while, his gaze was still gossamer soft as he wrapped her in his words. She was safe with him – but his lack of boundaries had always been a bit disorienting. He was forward in ways that mostly seemed harmless, but Tia now found herself wondering if she should’ve been firmer with him. If perhaps… he misunderstood their relationship.

But he met her eyes with that smile that was so tender – like she was something to be protected and nurtured. It sent her heart rate skipping.

Tia hesitated, her back to the closed door, her eyes watching him as he moved about her room like it was his own. She didn’t know what to do – so she defaulted to following orders, as always. Tia walked to her bed and perched herself on the edge of the mattress, too nervous to relax into it. To her immense relief, he did not join her.

Still, there was that feeling of standing at a precipice – of waiting for something to push her over the edge so she could finally stop this balancing act and welcome whatever shattering impact was awaiting her. He held a spoonful of soup out to her, an act both intimate and infantilizing. But Tia was too off-kilter to protest. Her hand raised to grab the handle of the spoon, her fingers brushing his. She tried to focus on the flavor of the broth, the tenderness of the meat and vegetables, so she wouldn’t have to think about how very warm she suddenly felt. Then he released the spoon and turned away, and it was like she could breathe again. Tia swallowed the soup down. The ceramic bowl seeped heat into her palm.

And then he began to talk.

And talk.

Tia could only sit on her bed, trapped by his words that seemed to wrap around her like binding cloth. They layered themselves over her, tight and heavy, constricting her. The world seemed to muffle. Her breathing quickened. Tia’s mind spun in a frantic buzz of confusion with each bold new claim.

Her scar was evidence of the Goddesses’ existence.

She’d been sent to Dawnhaven so the Arch Priest could be rid of her.

The blight was divine.

She housed the soul of Aelios.

She was a Seer.

The blizzard had been an attack on her rather than an act of nature.

He was the bastard son of King Auric.

The blight needed to persist.

He wanted to depose the Aurelian King.

Tia’s heart stopped. What he was saying… nevermind the outlandish nature of some of his claims, he was suggesting treason. Tia could barely make sense of the flood of information he’d dropped at her feet like a cat with a rat carcass.

But most perplexing of all… he swore to protect her. This was the second time today that a man had looked her in the eye and declared that she was someone who needed protection – that she was worth protection. And again, the same question echoed in her mind: protection from whom?

Tia stared up at Gadez – Halcyon – with wide, helpless eyes. She suddenly felt that she didn’t know him at all. Flashes of their week together darted through her mind. The stories he’d told her. The way he’d enjoyed startling her as she read, only to offer her a cheeky smile and a steaming cup of tea. How just this morning, he’d placed a hand against her cheek with a touch so gentle and warm it might’ve been an embrace.

He was bowing to her, still looking at her with those ghostly eyes. Only the crackling of the fire filled the space around them. His request hung in the air – because this had all been a request, hadn’t it? A declaration of his intentions, so that she might give him an answer he longed to hear.

Her heart beat in her chest like a frantic bird struggling in a too small cage.

Moving was like forcing herself back to life. She placed the soup bowl and spoon, barely touched, onto the bedside table. The movement was too jerky. Soup splashed over the side, dripping on her hand and the wood. But Tia didn’t notice. She was on her feet and stepping towards the man, whoever he was. She closed the distance with a desperate hand reaching out to touch his arm. Tia didn’t understand what was happening, what had led them to this point, but she needed to –

The door to Tia’s room slammed open, the impact like a crack of thunder. Her hand snapped away from him, to fist in front of her chest. Tia jumped, spinning to look. A figure stood in the doorframe, all shining armor and eyes that burned with blue fire. Tia met Dyna’s gaze, confusion and panic still clear on her face.

But this wasn’t her little sister – this was her Champion. And apparently she had decided it was time to get to work.

---

_{Interaction: Gadez Paladice @Dezuel, Dyna Soleil @Queen Arya}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

---

_{Location: The Sun Temple}

---

---

Tia peered around Gadez’s form at the sound of Dyna’s voice, her blunt tone distinguishing her from her sister. Where was Ranni? Was she alright? Had Dyna seen that awful vision, too? With the narrow hallway so crowded, Tia couldn’t see into the temple’s body.

She paused though, when she heard the soft tone of Gadez’s voice. Her eyes flicked back up to him. He had turned his head to look over his shoulder at Dyna, addressing her with a voice that was… almost subdued. Tia blinked up at him. Gadez was a man who usually seemed to thrum with latent energy, eager to spring to life and patient enough to capture the perfect moment. He was many things — brazen, mischievous, oddly considerate… but Tia had never before seen him so muffled. He turned back to face her, and Tia’s lips parted when she saw something completely foreign in his pale eyes:

Hesitation.

It was a flicker. Then it was gone, so quickly it might’ve just been the reflection of Tia’s own nerves staring back at her. He stepped closer, with a murmuring voice and a proffered… soup container?

Tia couldn’t help herself. Her lips quirked into a bemused smile as she looked at it. Something softened in her, the tensions of the day growing hazy.

Oddly considerate, indeed.

She met his gaze again. She couldn’t thank him with the state of her voice, but she gave a warm smile. It faltered when he sought entrance to her room. This was the second man in less than an hour. The nuns she grew up with would’ve been positively scandalized. The Prince requesting privacy to talk with her (to interrogate her, she corrected with no small amount of shame) was one thing. But Gadez… Well, it wasn’t as if he’d never been in her room. And if he intended to be ungentlemanly, he’d already had plenty of opportunity when they’d been snowed in for a week. And… he’d brought her soup.

But he spoke of answers. Of Aelios. Answers to what? She searched his eyes as her mind spun.

Did… did he somehow know about her visions?

Her heartbeat seemed louder in her ears. Tia hesitated for another moment. Then she stepped to the side, her arm raised slightly to invite him in. There wasn’t much room to move in the hallway — Tia pressed herself against the wall to try and give him room as his larger frame crossed the threshold of her room.

She didn’t follow him in, though. Tia met Dyna’s eye, finally unobstructed. She turned back to Gadez, holding up a hand to signal him to wait. Then she moved to her sister. Curling a hand around one of Dyna’s, Tia looked around her shoulder to try and spot Ranni. More voices echoed through the air, weaving through the crackle of Aelios’ flame. There was Ranni’s, and the other… Tia realized with a start that she recognized that voice, too.

Dr. Céline stood with Ranni, along with an absolute mountain of a man. Tia took a moment to observe them. Despite the vision she’d had, Ranni didn’t seem distressed. But Tia knew that didn’t mean much — as priestesses they’d been trained to mask their own troubles when performing their duties. Tia had just never been very good at it. That Dr. Céline was speaking with her though…

She’d been Tia’s other guest during the storm. She was kind and intelligent, but there had been a few near-misses with her empathic abilities. If Ranni was really experiencing something, the doctor probably wouldn’t have been upright. Had the vision not been from Ranni? Tia’s eyebrows drew together as she watched them.

Finally deciding that at least Ranni wasn’t in any immediate danger, Tia looked back to Dyna.

Fierce, stalwart Dyna. Ever the protector, making herself responsible for their safety. Tia knew it was ingrained in her — the vigilance, the need to protect the few people she still had. Tia couldn’t imagine what it’d been like to witness her twin go into the blight — to not have gone with her. Her heart clenched as she looked up at the Champion. Dyna was taller than her. Stronger. Technically in charge of her safety. But Tia was still older. It was still her responsibility to care for the twins.

Tia’s hand tightened around hers. With her other hand, she reached up to briefly touch Dyna’s cheek and give her a smile that she hoped was comforting. Tia glanced back over her shoulder to see Gadez in the flickering firelight of her room. She turned to look at Ranni, the picture of calm as she spoke with Dr. Céline and her companion.

Looking back up at Dyna, she slowly mouthed the words, ‘Stay with Ranni.’

Tia wasn’t in any danger with Gadez. But if that vision had come from Ranni, Tia didn’t want her alone. She didn’t want her to feel alone.

‘Be out soon.’

Tia wasn’t certain that was a promise she could keep. Gadez was unpredictable at the best of times. But something about his soft voice, his hesitation… Tia felt on the precipice of something. Whatever it was he had to discuss with her, something told her it wouldn’t be a quick conversation. But she tried to give Dyna a reassuring smile, and another quick squeeze of her hand.

Then she stepped away and walked back into her room. Tia pulled the door shut behind her, leaving it ajar. Perhaps those old nuns had left an impression on her, after all. Hands clasped behind her back, Tia looked back to Gadez. The fire warmed the room, stray embers glowing like fireflies.

---

_{Interaction: Gadez Paladice @Dezuel, Dyna Soleil @Queen Arya
Mention: Ranni Soleil, Céline Moreau, and Ivor the Wild @SkeankySnack}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

---

_{Location: The Sun Temple}

---

---

Tia sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the book in her lap with unseeing eyes. She felt… exhausted. Bone tired in a way that sleep couldn’t cure. Echoes of the Prince’s voice seemed to reverberate around the room. His cutting accusations. His warnings. His cold, detached pronouncements.

The fire he’d lit still crackled in the hearth.

Tia felt the weight of every secret she was still keeping press down on her. All the words she didn’t stay were thick in her burning throat. A question circled her mind again and again: why her?

The Prince, the Queen, the Arch Priest, Aelios... Why make demands of her? What could she possibly offer them? Surely they all would’ve had more qualified, or capable, or worthy candidates to see their wills fulfilled. Tia had her talents, it was true… but none seemed adequate to fill the many roles that were now being draped over her shoulders like heavy cloaks, each one only adding to the suffocating weight until she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe–

And then her body was not her own. She was dying, but it was not her death. A voice that was not hers whispered anguished words that broke her heart. She knew that voice.

Ranni.

The vision was much as it’d been before – the familiar presence of her pupil, commanding every ounce of her attention. And again, there was no blistering heat, no stalking predator that watched her with evaluating eyes.

It’s not a prophecy.

When Tia came back to herself, she knew this with sudden clarity. Whatever the vision was, whatever she’d experienced earlier today outside the temple, they weren’t prophecies. But what were they, then? They’d both centered on Ranni… but she’d never had any propensity for mental magic. Like Tia, she’d been a healer.

A hand reached up to thoughtlessly touch the scars at her throat. The blight. What changes had it forced upon her?

Something warm trailed along the skin of her cheek. Tia reached up to find it was wet – at some point she’d started crying. She sniffled and wiped the tears away.

Hers were not the only troubles in the world. And being inadequate was not excuse enough to shirk her duties. Eyes refocusing, she looked over at the bedside table, her note and two visions still laying atop it. She looked back down at the book that held her two remaining visions – the ones that remained unverified. She needed to look into them, before she could take them to the Prince. How? Tia would… figure that part out. And there was still the matter of the Queen’s letters.

But first… Ranni. Ranni and Dyna were the closest things to family she had left in this world. Having them back in her life was a privilege Tia didn’t think she’d ever be granted again. And now that they were here… it was Tia’s responsibility to take care of them.

And judging by the vision she’d just had, Ranni was somewhere dark. Tia’s heart clenched at the thought of her pupil’s suffering. Forcing herself up, she quickly put the papers and the book back in the table drawer – messier than she normally kept it, and not carefully folded away, but the drawer shut all the same. She gave one last swipe at her cheeks to make sure she wasn’t crying anymore. It wouldn’t do for them to see her in a state – not when she was the one who should’ve been looking after them. Her throat still burned after her coughing fit. She likely wouldn’t manage any words for some time. But the twins knew her better than anyone else in Dawnhaven. She trusted they’d find ways to understand each other.

Allowing herself one last moment in the dim solitude of her room, Tia readied herself. Then she opened the door –

To find Gadez filling the hallway, hand raised as if to knock, and frame blocking out the flickering light of Aelios’ flame.

---

_{Interaction: Gadez Paladice @Dezuel
Mention: Ranni and Dyna Soleil @Queen Arya}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

_{Collab between Amaya @c3p-0h and Elara @Qia
Location: Elara’s Home}

---

Amaya staggered through the door of Elara’s home, gasping at the warmth that enveloped her. It wasn’t nearly enough, but the shift was almost painful – from icy numbness to subtle heat. She barely registered anything more than the sound of Elara’s voice, her presence at her side, the promise of safety and shelter – even if it might not last.

She was so cold.

The ice had grown along her skin, blooming from the wound on her arm. Her blood had frozen to her skin in crimson fractals where it’d dripped down her wrist, across her palm, along the lengths of her fingers. Her own magic was turning against her. It seeped through the cracks of her shattered control. It’d climbed up the length of her arm now, hidden under the thick sleeve of her coat, and emerging along the delicate skin of her neck.

Amaya was shaking. She couldn’t stop shaking. Her breath escaped her in frantic, shallow puffs, and it was all she could do to keep moving forward. Her other hand had wrapped around her frozen wrist, the difference in skin color startling – one a warm brown, the other muted and ashen beneath the layer of bloody ice.

During their journey the cold had stabbed into her like blades, like teeth, claiming every inch of her, seeping into her blood and bones. Now there was only numbness. It weighed her down, made her body stiff and her mind slow.

Forcing herself onward, Amaya stumbled towards the fireplace. Dying embers glowed amidst ash and coal, pulsing like a heartbeat. She all but collapsed in front of it.

Elara rushed to Amaya's side, her heart twisting at the sight of her friend crumbling before the dying embers. The warmth of the room did little to thaw the frost spreading across Amaya’s skin, its jagged, crystalline edges glinting faintly in the flickering light.

“Amaya,” Elara murmured, her voice trembling as she knelt beside her. Her fingers hovered, unsure, over the icy sheen spreading along Amaya’s wrist. The frost bit against her skin when she finally made contact, a cold so intense it felt like fire. The chill radiated up her arms, numbing her fingertips, but she held firm. “Stay with me. Breathe. Just breathe.”

The oppressive silence pressed heavily around them, broken only by the faint crackle of the embers and Amaya’s shallow, uneven breaths. Elara pressed her other hand to the base of Amaya’s neck, just below where the ice crept upward like invasive vines. The skin was lifeless beneath her touch, a frigid warning of how far this had gone. “You’re freezing,” she whispered, her own breath misting in the air between them. “We have to stop this before it gets worse.”

Shadows stirred at her feet, their dark tendrils mirroring her rising panic. They curled protectively around Amaya, dancing like living things in the faint light. Elara’s gaze flicked to the embers struggling in the hearth.

Amaya felt the loss of Elara’s touch like a physical ache, and fear rose up in her with a sudden ferocity. It cut through the frigid haze.

Don’t leave.

Elara leaned towards the hearth, her breath coaxing the dying fire to spark anew. Her trembling hands worked quickly, gathering brittle pieces of kindling from the nearby stack. The wood snapped like fragile bones between her fingers as she fed it to the fire, urgency bubbling up with every piece she tossed in. “Come on,” she muttered, her words a fervent plea to the reluctant flames, as well as to herself.

Finally, the fire flared in reluctant bursts, its warmth stretching weakly toward them.

“Let me help you.” Her hands, steady despite the tremor in her chest, began to glow faintly as she called on her lunar magic. The light was cool, silvery, and soothing as it pooled at her fingertips. She pressed the light against Amaya’s frozen wrist, channelling the essence of her magic into the ice that encased her skin. “I can stabilize it, but you need to help me. Remember, this is your magic—it’s part of you. You can take control of it, but you need to focus.”

But it didn’t feel like a part of her.

Amaya tried to focus on Elara’s familiar voice, the feel of her hand and her magic wrapping around her frozen wrist. She winced, making a helpless sound. Her magic — her magic? No, this was something else, something that prowled and watched her with a predator’s eyes, waiting for an opportunity to break free of the cage she tried to seal it within. It belonged to her just as much as a blizzard belonged to a hapless town.

And Amaya was so tired. Sleep beckoned at her consciousness, her exhausted body. Why fight to stay awake and struggle against the tide? What had fighting ever gotten her? She wanted to cry at the feeling of helplessness that threatened to drown her, if only she had the energy. She didn’t have any fight left in her — but she had Elara. She had her friend’s voice, gentle and warm. The reminder that she wasn’t alone.

It was long work. Agonizing. But crystal by crystal, with the growing warmth of the fire and Elara’s magic, Amaya felt her ice start to melt. Its slow crawl across her body stilled. Her magic didn’t fight — it calmed. It allowed itself to be coaxed back to sleep, back to quiet stillness. By the end of it all, her iice had become water, soaking into the thick fabric of her coat. A fresh blood stain blossomed on her sleeve, diluted by the water. The blood was thin and translucent where it dripped from her fingertips onto the floor.

Amaya breathed a quiet sigh. Needles stabbed along her skin as circulation began returning. Her hand turned to weakly curl around Elara’s wrist.

“Welcome back,” Elara said softly, her voice a gentle caress. With a tender touch of her free hand, she reached out, her fingertips gliding over Amaya’s chilled skin to brush away the damp, errant strands of hair that clung to her forehead. As she tucked the hair behind the princess’s ear, the shadows that had curled protectively around them began to exhale, receding slowly into the quiet corners of the room like a tide drawn away from the shore. Her gaze lingered now on the blood-soaked sleeve, on the pallor of Amaya’s face. This wasn’t over—not yet. But for now, it felt good to know that they were safe.

For now, they simply had each other.

She reached for the blanket draped over a nearby chair, the coarse wool textured against her fingertips. As she carefully wrapped it around Amaya’s trembling shoulders, the blanket appeared to envelop her friend like a cocoon, her slight form framed by the soft folds. In another world, under very different circumstances, the sight of her, snug and warm within the blanket, might have drawn an amused laugh from her lips….

Instead, Elara found herself adjusting the edges, her fingers grazing Amaya's collarbone and shoulders, lingering there just a heartbeat longer than necessary before her legs compelled her to move. She forced herself to let go, though her hand ached with the absence as she pulled back and shifted, her legs moving stiffly from where she’d knelt too long on the hard wooden floor.

“There,” Elara murmured as she added more kindling to the flickering embers, the dry wood cracking faintly as it caught, sending a warm, golden glow spreading through the room. “You’ll feel warmer soon enough.” She watched Amaya carefully for a moment, noting the faint colour that slowly began to return to her cheeks, though her trembling hadn’t yet stopped. “Just rest for now.”

And all Amaya could do was listen. Already, sleep began claiming her, pulling her in an inescapable hold. She was all heavy limbs and muddled, half-formed thoughts as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Elara…

…Stay…

…I’m sorry…

…Please stay…

The last things she knew were the warmth of Elara’s hearth and the phantom echoes of a voice in her head, promising blood.

Then, darkness.