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Festival of Eshiran

The shadows of the high mountains have started to cast over the city, reaching even the furthest wharf. Most portmen had finished and those with duties still in need of tending lit candles and torches to guide them through the later hours of Eshiran. With the calming of the port, the people of Zengali and its visitors could hear the eerie waves of the ocean. It had been a long time since the ocean held the admiration of the people here. Now the dull waters of the port just served as a reminder of the monster that stripped the spirit from Zengali.

But not all places in Zengali were so lifeless. The encampment of this morning hung with the stench of death and despair. Many have rescinded their lives to Ahn-Eshiran’s hands, only hoping they will be the lucky ones to receive her mercy from the plague that attached itself to them. But as quick as the plague came to them, even quicker was it dispelled by one man and his heavenly song. Never have they heard a sound so comforting as they did from the Sun King that day. Some recited the menana, as it was the only words that could describe the relief they had been given. Many cried as he pulled them from the hands of Eshiran. For the common man, one not blessed by the gift or lady luck, to be saved was a rarity and for all of them was unheard of. Countless blessings were given to the Sun King that day and many started to sing to show their newfound health.

Their spirit was infectious, spreading the good word through the town until it reached Alberta’s ears. She hadn’t felt such relief since Raimy convinced his father to give them proper shelter on dry land. As she confirmed what they had heard, a resurgence of energy took place in the Revidian’s heart, soaring them to work harder and bring back that classic Revidian spirit. Enough to give some back to the people who had long endured the thresher’s threat. The festival was set to be a lively one with the remnants of the fleet ready to celebrate their 2nd escape from Ahn-Eshiran.

Elsewhere on the docks was a very different scene. One that played out more times than the wharfmaster would like to count. Zarina had portaled to the very dock Keanjano and herself set off from. Her clothes were tattered over part of her abdomen and the color of her skin ran cold. She came not with the lively crew she went there with but instead just 2 men, Daoud and Kilik, and a notebook Keanjaho gave his life for. The first thing Zarina saw was a group of Zengalians standing near the wharf they set sail from.

The sight of the portal was more than they could comprehend right away but as they did dread and tears poured from some of the women. Small children were confused about why their parents cried and why their older siblings held them so tight. Slowly, the children realized that their fathers weren’t going to return like they had. The older kids and men only let a silent anger weep from them. They were hardened to death and some only knew that the season of Oraff reeked of death.

But they rose, the mothers comforted their children the way they knew they had to. The men let the older kids know it was alright to cry. Kilik, ever the serious, did not cry for he had a duty to tell what had happened this day. Daoud, though injured, followed Kilik to tell tales of the men's bravery in the face of the beast. If there was one last story their loved one needed to hear, it was not of their death but of their life. Kilik looked towards Zarina, a young woman who had more grit and determination than he had seen. “Go find Brother Hodari and give him the notebook,” It was worded like a command but was ever so meager in that moment. He could only trust that she would.

A young woman, Amani Juma, bustled around the edge of the marketplace. Left on her own to tend to the festival stall, the girl hadn’t the time to greet her uncle at the dock. Instead, she set herself to bartering with the vendors her uncle suggested in the passing. She needed goats, fish, plantains, spices, and of course, chicken. They bartered and traded in their usual way, making jabs at each other and eventually the vendors relented and gave her some for free since she was his niece after all. She carried the stuff with her blessed gift and got to work on all the ingredients.

Some humming was heard as she sliced and diced her aromatic vegetables like onion and garlic. The fire started with a flare of arcane and the goat was tossed into brown and render. Uncle always used some kind of trick to make it go faster, she clicked her tongue and looked around to see he still was not home yet. She improvised by adding some more heat and watched it carefully before clearing the center and adding a small pot of onions, garlic, and various spices to the pool of oil at the bottom to wake them. She juggled her other duties as a cook, watching the delicate spices before a man named Hamisi hulled a large pot of crushed tomatoes over. Together they dumped it in and she adjusted it with more salt.

”Has there been any word from my uncle,” Amani asked Hamisi, worry carried not with her voice but by the way she anxiously looked about for him.

Hamisi looked apologetic, “I haven’t been anywhere near the docks since those pirates came in, sorry,” he waved off as he was also busy with the festival. She rolled her eyes and continued her duties, swearing Uncle wasn’t to get even one mahamri.

The sun was setting and his uncle hadn’t returned like he said he would. Warriors were starting to gather around to fill up on spicy stew before the performance but the drink they needed was not there. Uncle had not returned and Amani couldn’t make it. Ah, that uncle! Always telling me he would teach me but never the day I asked, she thought to herself as the warriors grew more testy. She placated them with sweet mahamri and jest whenever they were getting too rambunctious for her liking.

“Amani,” Brother Hodari spoke over the other warriors, partially silencing some of them. His usual tone was present but there was a degree of seriousness to it that she had not been accustomed to.

”Ah, Brother Hodari! It is so good to see you,” Amani quickly prepared a bowl, giving him twice the amount of goat meat in an effort to bribe him. ”Now I know why you are here but I promise you it is quick to make and you'll have it very soon,” she put her hands up in a way to hopefully stall for just a little more time.

Hodari’s face was unchanging in his stoicism but there was a moment of realization that took him, “Amani, come with me to speak,” Hodari asked but nothing ever sounded like an ask with him. Especially as he started to walk without receiving an answer.

Amani agreed and they went on a small walk outside of the marketplace, people were still around but it was much quieter. Amani grew increasingly nervous, she knew what they wanted and what they needed. With uncle missing, the marquis was sure to be angry and sent Hodari to relay his message. She was about to start to make excuses saying the winds had been stale or how he was just out but Hodari stopped it.

He placed his hand on the young woman who beamed with skill and charisma much like her uncle. Hodari had yet to speak but Amani could feel the words from his eyes. She didn’t want to hear them. She couldn’t hear the same words her uncle said to her when she was only 9. Hodari knew the pain she was bearing and said it anyway. “Your uncle Keanjaho,” Amani closed her eyes begging for him to just say he was injured or was just running late. “His ship was attacked by the thresher. His soul rests in heaven now, child.”

Amani's eyes opened as tears welled up, she wanted to protest it. It was unfair. He did so much for everyone and had so much more to give and now he is gone. She wanted to scream at Hodari for sending him but she knew it would do nothing. Her anger had no place to go. Amani wiped away the tears before they fell. There had to be more reason he was here than to deliver his passing.

And Hodari did have more news but found himself remorseful to watch another child of Zengali lose a part of themselves to the beast. It was painful for the red rezaindian to be unable to purge the world of this beast. But his heart was worn and hardened like how Amani’s would grow to be, the fact she held onto herself after her first tragedy was only a blessing of Ipte. Hodari pulled an unfamiliar notebook from his robes. With no words, he handed it over for Amani to read.

She took it and read through each page, her face stayed angry and pained and grew as she got further along in it. Amani committed each note and story Keanjaho left her. Then she got to the last day's entries, which detailed every part of their journey, the crew, Zarina, the weird foam, and a guide on how to get to the area safely. It was more thorough than anything she had seen from her uncle. It didn’t feel like her uncle.

But at the very end, 10 or 20 blank pages between the last entry was a message. It was not like the last entry. It was cluttered and unorganized. It switched between Belzagic, Avincian, Toragonese, and Virangish for little terms that he poached and used half haphazardly. It was the recipe for Maji ya Udongo. It was her uncle, a jumbled mess of dozens of words and topics to all say something that could be said in so few.

Hodari stood in silence watching the youth process the reality. He had planned on leaving but he would not leave until she would let him. But with a surprise, Amani ripped out about 5 pages from the notebook and presented it to Hodari. There was so much pain and indignation behind her eyes towards him and the Marquis but Amani no longer frowned. “Thank you, Amani,” Amani stayed quiet and returned to her stall where she started to prepare the Maji ya Udongo away from the warriors.

When reapproaching the warriors she carried a large jug, about the size of her uncle's belly, full of a spiced yellow liquid, ”Come now warriors! You can’t have a festival without Maji ya Udongo!”

Now that there was the Jug of Maji ya Undongo, Hodari, Raimy, Leon Solaire, the warriors, and performers started to march their way up to Marquis Dume’s home. Upon arrival, many women started to apply makeup for the performance and of course, Leon was no exception. Painted like the rest of the performers and oiled to shine under lantern lights. Huge wooden drums that stood as tall as 2 men were rolled up the mountain for the festival. While most performers already knew the dances and songs, Raimy was tasked with teaching the famous Sun King the same dances and when to blow his vuvuzela. Other performers were snickering at the ‘Sun King’s’ private lesson but became impressed by his speed of learning. With that, the performance was set to begin.



Two massive drums blasted a deep resonant sound over the entirety of Zengali. The bustle of the city quieted, and merchants stopped their sales as the buyers had lost interest. Parents silenced their children with hushed whispers, pointing up to the beautiful flames lit at the mountaintop. The songs of the recently cured Revidians slowed and they waited for a sight many of them would not have seen. All eyes were on the recently built pyre, tension building as they waited for the next beat of the drums



Out they came and with that a shout from none other than Marquis Dume. Loud enough for the people at the port to hear him. He spoke not words but noises that set the tone and beginning of the performance. Professional musicians within the march started to play their vuvuzelas, and quickly Raimy and Brother Hodari yelled out the same thing as the Marquis then followed all that was behind them. The horns flared again as the Marquis timed the start of the march at the next beat of the drums.



The march had started, and the Marquis was in charge of setting the pace and leading his people through. People quickly gathered around the lit road to gain a better view. The performers were tasked with a herculean task to maintain the beat and perform under the pressure of the entire city watching. The musicians played the loud instruments in a way that was almost enjoyable for their foreign guests. Then a lull in the music took place, maybe a quarter way through the parade. It felt unnatural but the look among the locals was ecstatic, reaching to their sides and raising their own, less ornate, vuvuzelas. Any poor visitor near these were pierced with the shriek of a horn. In no feasible way did it sound good. But the people nearby started to dance and sing just under the volume of the horns.

Soon the parade loosened, still led by the Marquis to keep it going, but now there was an opportunity for those in the parade and outside to express themselves. Hodari showed a fluidity to his dance and his very steps shook the ground. Children would bounce in the air with every step and would softly land. Raimy flared to torches, changing colors to create a show of fire that would captivate the imagination of those watching. Even the guests who wished to participate were allowed to do so if it did not stop the march. Though Leon was given a specific moment to wow the crowd by Raimy.

Soon the men found their way to the heart of Zengali, encircling it with dance, and yes, even more vuvuzelas. Torches from the crowd were handed to the men in the parade and Marquis Dume took center stage. The crowd and performers blared their vuvuzelas, stomping and yelling rose until it was a cacophony of sound. The energy of the people rose and rose until it came to a head and then,



The performers stopped, and the crowd quickly followed. The Marquis took a deep breath, "Zengali,” he looked at his people with pride. "We raise our songs for the people who could not sing with us!” the warriors shouted back. "We dance so that the ones below can feel that we are still here!” The crowd stomped much like the way Hodari did, shaking the very ground. "And we celebrate for the new day! Let the festival begin!”


Excited as ever for a trip to an unknown place, it felt like he was picking up his journey from before Ersand'Ernise. Dressed in his finest travel clothes, accessorized to the high heavens, and topped off with seafoam green hair. This would be the vacation he needed to truly get himself out of this funk. All he has to do was some light work for the school and then all that tropical splendor was for him to enjoy and paint.

How it should have been a perfect trip, an easy time, but his expectations were blown up by the sudden ear rupturing sound of cannon fire. He plummets into water, diving 10 or so feet under the surface. Bobbing up to the surface to hack up the cups of sea water he took on. Startled and panicked, Tku swam to the closest island. All the commotion should scare large creatures away so he should be safe from their claws and jaws. But what he was not safe from was his makeup smearing in the water.

"Nope, not my makeup," he said unamusingly. He reached into his bag of wonder and yelled out, "BANANA BOAT!" Materializing out of thin air came a banana canoe with accompanying peel oars. He leaped aboard and dried himself off binding. Rowing over to the island in fruity fashion, offering a ride to whoever wanted it. Tku wasn't one to play around when his makeup was on the line. Hopefully the island proved safer than their entry point.

Sunny Rain

Fierce winds whirled into the fjord accompanied by sunny rain. The verdant cliffs shifted at the mercy of the storm with little show of relief with the dark storm billowing off the coast of Zengali. Rain ran down to the port, tossing the damaged ships and the survivors in their makeshift camp. It was a sorry sight for a fleet that was held as untouchable by pirates or any navy. The protection that the Sant'Agata della Compagnia Rossa held in such high regard, reduced to something truly pitiful.

“Now that proud fleet is in my port, asking me for repairs for little pay,” the Marquis sipped from his glass as he looked over his city of Zengali.

Past the Marquis's desk, an injured but well dressed sailor sat on a green settee, “Marquis Dume, I implore you to look past what we have on our ships and what we can promise-”

“Promise what?” Dume spoke over her, “Money from a country on the brink of war and their crown vessel at the bottom of Australic Ocean?” he waved a dismissive hand at her without even turning to her. She bit her tongue, doing her duty to not glare at the man. The room grew tense as a few seconds went by.

“Father,” Dume looked over his shoulder to allow Raimy to speak, “I believe that Alberta has claims to stand on. In my time at Ersand’Ernise, the Doge is one of the few people with the kind of credit that we can accept with little worry.” Raimy endorsed the Doge’s very deep pockets then glanced back at Alberta to spur her to continue.

A small nod back to Raimy, “Marquis Dume,” Alberta waited to speak, Dume allowed, “The Central Alliance believes in paying its dues and respecting the sovereignty of independent nations. The ‘Unification’ of Belzagg was froth with infighting and outright violence at times-”

She was interrupted again with no visible distaste for her comments, “Brother Hodari,” one of the men standing in the back of the room, near the door stepped forward revealing his red vestments. “How are our own preparations for the White Thresher coming along?”

A deep voice thick with a Zengali accent spoke as clearly as he could in Avincian, “Our cannons are well maintained however our guns and ammunition outnumber our vessels ready for fighting,” Hodari said neutrally but a small smirk came to him.

“Ha!” the marquis let out a hearty laugh, “What a fortunate problem to have, you have done well,” Hodari stepped back knowing that was the end of what the Marquis required of him. Maquis Dume set down his glass, finally turning to the woman that led the remains of her defeated fleet. His smile melted back down to a neutral ruler, “How many injured do you have?”

“One hundred strong and fifty injured but they will recover soon,” Alberta answered quickly and earnestly.

Dume glanced at his son for verification, and Raimy carefully recalled what he saw before validating Alberta’s claims. Marquis Dume nodded as he flipped through some further notes and intelligence he had on hand, weighing the outcomes of what he can do in the odd respite they have. He gently set down his glass, “I will trust that the ruler of the central alliance will pay his dues when the war is done.” The marquis went to pour a new glass of water for the woman.

Relief fell over Alberta face as she had seemingly achieved the responsibilities laid on her as the highest in command, “Thank you for your grace, Marquis,” she accepted the glass with her one good arm but when she tried to drink, she couldn't move it. She up glanced at the Marquis, wondering is she offended him in some way

“In the meantime, you and your hundred men will take the repaired ships to battle with me,” Dume declared to everyone in the room leaving no room to argue. Still, he watched how the Revidian would try to squirm out of it. Each sign of hesitation changed his thoughts on her.

But to Dume's surprise, Alberta let go of the glass and laid her hand over her heart, “It is only expected for the survivor to seek revenge, we will gladly set sail with you to destroy the white thresher.” She accepted the Marquis' declaration quickly seeing the opportunity laid in front of her.

Dume grinned and handed the still glass to Alberta, “Raimy, tell the craftsman to put other tasks to the side and put the skilled slaves and convicts to work immediately. Tempt them with honey if you need.”

Raimy stood up at his father's orders, “As you say, father,” Raimy headed out but there was a small glance shared between Alberta and him.

Dume looked back at her, “Alberta, go with Raimy, he will show your injured to drier quarters than their flooded ones and have some binders visit them,” adding more to his son’s duties for the day.

As they left, Marquis Dume was left with old and trusted aides. In these private chambers, Dume took a seat at his desk. Looking at his aides, all of them had something to say but he chose Hodari, the one with the most duties right now, “Speak Hodari,” He started to pour him and his other aides some wine.

Hodari took the glass and drank heavily, “Your son seems quite infatuated with the central alliance,” only a slip of concern coming through.

“Infatuated with a pretty and needy face,” one of them scowled at Reimy’s behavior in front of them.

Dume raised a hand to put the issue to rest, “He’s a young man and the war is on the brink. Awar unlike anything in known history. His blood boils but his stomach turns at the sight of the wounded. He needs a side.” Dume disappointedly sighed but he moved on. “Be truthful, do we have the forces to put it down this year?” he looked through the latest reports gathered.

Hodari looked into his glass, “We have the ammunition, we have new cannons for longer combat from a place in Enth. We have the spirit, but we don’t have the people or the ships to load the cannons.” he answered after finishing his drink.

There was a pause as Hodari’s words stole the bravado they displayed earlier. Before they could continue the discussion, the warning bells rang over the sunny rain. Dume and his aids turned to the window, and they saw another damaged ship. The ship was large with rows upon rows of cannons. The breaks Dume knew. He could never forget what happened to his own ship years ago.

“Another damaged ship,” Hodari said, exasperated from another group forced into their port, especially this particular lot.

Dume only smiled at the ship taking on water. “Hodari, send a dragon rider to Belzagg, the rest of you will greet the new ship and tell them the cost for entering the port and repairs.”

Dume looked towards the sky shining through the rain and drank to his fortune, “Your time is running thin, beast.”



Administration really wants to test me it seems, Ingrid annoyingly thought. She had the best Zeno with Luumelan and an old friend with Ayla. Maybe she can rekindle a friendship with her, lord knows she could use some. Johann was a pleasant inclusion, having known him from his generosity and passion she's seen in the reading club. Maybe I can hang out with from time to time, Ingrid ignored the obvious political tensions of interacting with a Kerreman and a Torragonese. Then there were 2 choices that made her roll her eyes, Trypano and Esmii. Ingrid had some mixed feelings though mostly she just felt crossed. Trypano and her playing keep away with the Lantern of Shune-Zept and Esmii being a bitch and being moss on a tree with Sven. And again, the other one was Central Alliance. The only Sovereign Pact member in this group after what happened. This is what I get for helping out.

There was a moment of pause as Ingrid just looked at her group with much less enthusiasm now. Just ignore it, fuck admin, fuck this war, and fuck Trypano and Esmii. Simple as that Ingrid just rolled her eyes and went back to her work. If the admin wouldn't help her achieve her goals, she will simply do it without them. She is not so easily daunted by a closed door. First step is working with a certain scheming woman to make a Shipyard.


He survived the 2 Grand Demons, he survived a bad hit piece on Juulet, he survived the revolution and took down the Queen of Magnetism, he even survived his own hubris taking that aberration on his own. Tku was quite the lucky man and somehow, he even scored and interview, how it went he couldn't say, he just hoped his friends achieved their aspirations. But now Tku had a different task, one that he was unprepared for.

Marci wasn't here, Zarina was hurting, and the others were mules doing what they needed to do. Tku was a manager with honestly too little responsibilities to justify his pay. They were always so hands on it was an easy, relaxing job that he could chat with customers and friends while making some hats. How he wished he could have maintained that. Maybe he should have helped Marci that night somehow, tire Juulet, end it quicker. "Something," Tku found himself saying from time to time. He safes people and ends things with what should be good change, but there is always a cost, and they haunt him. And this is his cost, no, what he can pay for his friends.

He went into work that day a changed man. No longer was he lax and slow. Instead, he was a busy and competent manager. The more work he could do here, the less Zarina and Marci had to worry about something they had put so much effort into it. Keep the atmosphere light while working hard on the back end. He hated to be serious but if that is what was needed, he would take up the role with care and grace.


Guy sat down at his desk with all his stationaries as he was obliged to write a letter to his family about his continued existence. It was a short and brief letter informing them of his newest accomplishments in the Trials and his adoption of some new pets. There was a strange sense of pride reporting to his father that he had done something his father could have never dreamed of in his youth. He didn't let his pride turn into boasting though, as that would only inflame their small feud. He did ask that Father may entrust some of the family techniques on Midnight Wasp keeping and to send an experienced hand to help manage the hive. A small ask from a son that never asked for anything. He ended it with warm regards and small P.S. An intimate section to his father in their native tongue, thanking him for allowing him to go to Perrence. Tekah snuck in a small drawing of her, Penelope, and Guy relaxing under a tree.

His next letter was in response to a call for aid from his former teammates. It was a simple reply, not making much more fuss than needed. Tekah insisted on going to see her brother and sisters, Guy was quickly overpowered by her immense egging and Guy agreed. Another stress to his limited funds but he had no reason to refuse his daughter's request.

Lastly, he wrote to his treat proprietor in Perrence. Tekah had wanted to try more foods and he thought some things from the white cliffs of le Colosse. Quite the unique cuisine Guy was treated to when he was training there.

Dear Esteemed Proprieter,

I ask for a hand in the procurement of some local smoked shellfish from the white cliffs of le Colosse, my companion Pebble has been a very active in duty and I thought I should reward her. Penelope, though, has been given a Bunfruit by a Yasoi man at the school. Seems that she is quite fond of them now. I would go as far to say Gluttonous even, he gave her 3 and she ate them all in the same day. I am worried that amount of Bunfruit may be unhealthy for her and wondered if you could get an expert's opinion on the matter.
Yours Truly, Guy Attard

Guy finished the letter and stamped it appropriately and sent all his letters out. As he met up with his Zeno group, Guy was pleasantly surprised that Penny was with him. There was a small part of him that felt a sting though he couldn't place it.

Event:Nothing in Particular

Student Magic Specializations

Start of Arc Four

❖ Ingrid Penderson: 0 4 2 0 2 4 0 0 0 0 0

❖ Tku: 0 0 4 1 1 0 4 0 0 0 0

After the Mission

❖ Ingrid Penderson: 0 4 2 0 3 4 0 0 0 0 0

❖ Tku: 0 0 5 2 1 0 4 0 0 0 0

Started learning Limb Regeneration.

Start of Trials

❖ Ingrid Penderson: 0 4 2 1 3 4.5 0 0 0 0 0

❖ Tku: 1 0 5 2 1 0 4 0 1 0 0

Magnetic Arcane Binding Chemical Kinetic Atomic Blood Temporal Dark Command Primordial

Summary of Morning Conversations

After a tiring few day, the young group of students were able to meet back at 4S Farm for much needed rest. They had all had their own journeys, all had something to share with the other students. An Enthish breakfast was made by the forever caretaker Tku. Along with a pot of coffee for those addicted to the bitter gold. Eating and drinking what they had lost from the multiple travels across the desert.

Tku kicked off the conversation as they started to share their stories. Desmond shared the story of the near assassination of the king and Samaxi being framed. Tku shared the raid on the farm as well as the news of Benedetto's survival and more importantly his new name. Nyax-Acan, long time benefactor of An Zenui and one of the most respected people in all of it. Zarina shared the findings of her interrogations and the treachery of a woman named Wesca. Ayla and Marceline shared their opinions and correspondence from 2 people, incriminating a pawn of Wesca in the process. Ayla regailed that Wesca attempted to kill her and might have actually.

It was clear that Wesca was the target. They had captured 2 of the student's allies as well as the farmstead's master's daughter. They needed to act quickly if they wanted a chance. Zarina, Jascuan, and Marceline went to retrieve Classa and Tennaxi. Desmond, Fiske, and Samaxi went to prepare a witness against Wescan and cause a stir in the public. Ayla, Tku, and Naxos left to obtain an audience with Benedetto in hopes of getting Wesca's pawn, Sozo, arrested to turn up the heat.
Fleeting Bravery

Tku didn't think twice on sending Marci away. She was so young and so distraught by her actions. He made his word to keep them safe to Harracorra and now he felt for the young girl as well. It wasn't an intense feeling, just a personal responsibility for someone so young in such an unfamiliar place. How had she been separated from the others? Tku wondered as he was beaten by the guards and called a killer.

He had been beaten many times, it comes with traveling and figuring out their customs with experience, but these hurts. The strikes filled Tku with bitterness, he imagined that rude child was responsible for this. He felt it to be true, Why Fiske? Why did you have to leave so angry and cause this.

As they were moved through the city that bravery to jump into battle for others faltered. He had never been a brave man, not like the ones of great renown at least. He wondered if they also felt dread in their hearts when they realized this could be their end. The cities didn't want an explanation, they wanted blood. The little sights Tku saw of the people were overcast by the beautiful sights. It was a moment of acceptance that he drastically misread how things would go, how much time they would have to be rescued.

So why look at angry faces when you could look at beauty? As most definitely to their displeasure Tku took in their city for the beauty of it and looked past the people here.

The buildings were exquisite, the bright clothing was refreshing if not a bit much. The dyes in their hair were bold and brilliant. They created so much and Tku wanted to breathe it all in before he passed. Even as they had their heads covered, he could feel how the court was designed very differently from others. It was meant to be a showroom. A place of high praise and serious judgement.

But even with his coping Tku failed at holding the dread away. Even with their public defender, Naxos, his nerves frayed as they were placed in front of honorable Judge Nyax-Acan… Benedetto?!? Tku was so shocked that he just stared. Was the Angry Child still a child or had he grown? Wait did he actually grow? And Nyax-Acan answered it quickly by dispersing the first case with the sirrahi in a rather crude way. But now his gaze was at them, and it was time to decide. Well for Desmond to decide.
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