Helo

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Ignis 2nd: Morning
Location: Charity auction in the park
Interactions: Kira@Potter
Mentions: Cassius, Charlotte, Roman

---

The mystery woman grabbed his whiskey bottle and introduced herself as Kira. A single, simple name without a string of tiresome titles attached to it. It never once occurred to him to wonder how or why Kira was willing to part with 550 gold all in the name of charity. The familiar, however, watched with

“You…daring to steal my booze…on my day!” Callum smiled, bowed, and this time managed to catch his crown before it fell from his head. “Perfect! I love it.” He added, more than happy to find someone truly embracing the spirit of the holiday.

Then, with whiskey on his breath and only spite in his heart, he leaned in and whispered to Kira. “But I fucking hate Damiens.” He shared before dissolving into laughter, the entire situation little more than a joke to him.

He watched as Cassius upped the bid. A thousand gold. That would have to sting when Calbret found out about it.

Callum glanced at Kira and winked. “Desperate for a date, Damien?” He teased as turned his attention to the stage.

“Ohhh…Lady Vikena,” He waved at Charlotte, making sure he had her attention before continuing. “We’ll meet later…” He tossed an arm around Kira’s shoulders, his way of inviting her as well. His eyes flickered back to Cassius. “When your done helpin’ the needy.” Cal added as his words lazily slurred together.

“Kira, wanna be my drinking buddy today? No gold…I’m free.” He asked, holding out his hand for his bottle back.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Ignis 2nd: Morning
Location: Charity auction in the park
Interactions: Kira@Potter
Mentions: Cassius, Charlotte, Roman

---

<Enemy> Clarence alerted Callum to Cassius’s appearance as the man made a generous offer towards the charity auction.

Cassius? Callum’s eyes followed the monkey’s and landed on a familiar face. Nooo. I liked him. He was already semi-convinced he could make Cassius his newest drinking buddy and they’d shit-talk their shit-dads and maybe play cards.

<He stood against our ally.> There was a sharp edge to the thought, one that sliced through Callum’s doubts. Then, like watching a scene from a play, Clarence replayed what it had witnessed at the banquet a few nights ago.

How Cassius had stood in against Roman, spoken against Roman, condemned Roman; a man that bastard didn’t even know. Callum’s jaw clenched.

That dick. And I thought he was cool. But Cassius really was just another Damien.

Just as Calbert and his wife had sent guards to instigate an incident at Roman’s ceremony, Cassius had attempted to paint Roman as some kind of villain. The Damiens conspired against Roman.

Roman, the man who had always had Cal’s back. Who pulled him up from countless tavern floors over the years. Who stared down anyone who’d ever thought about taking a swing at Callum. And who never once made Cal feel something lesser because he couldn’t hold his own in a bar fight. Roman was a true friend, a good man, and someone who gave Callum hope that there were better places in the world far from Sorian. There was not a noble less deserving of daggers being slung his way, than Roman.

His gaze stayed fixed on Cassius as rage burned through his veins.

<Deny him what he desires.> The familiar encouraged, with fur bristling at the shift in emotions .

“Three-hundered!” Callum shouted out with a small stumble forward. Eyes still locked in the direction of Cassius as his hand shot towards the sky holding up three fingers. The monkey cackled as it leapt and clapped at Cal’s side. “And another hundo from the MON-KAAAAY!” Cal added, now holding four fingers up into the air with a grin.

The prince clapped his hands together and his eyes moved from Cassius’s profile to the woman who had placed a bid before the Damien heir. Callum waved at her.

“You. Me. Team-up. TRIANGLE DATE!” Callum shouted at her, grin widening. “And we give a big ol’ pile o’ gold to feed the people!” He spread his arms out wide, as if he were a shining beacon of benevolence, still holding a bottle of whiskey. All he wanted was to see Cassius lose.

Either he and Kira would pool their funds together, the charity would win big, and Cassius would lose. Or he would keep bidding, alone or as a team with the other woman, until it crossed into stupid territory. The charity would still win, and Cassius could pay through the nose for a sliver of Charlotte’s time.

At least he’d cost the Damiens something. A scratch was still a wound.

Good deeds still counted even if you got something out of them for yourself.

Callum dropped one arm and lifted the whiskey bottle towards Kira as if for a toast and waited for her answer.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Ignis 2nd: Morning
Location: Charity auction in the park
Interactions: Everyone at the park

---

Drunkard’s Day. If ever there was a day that was designed for Callum, today was it. More so than even his own birthday. His favorite day of the year when the majority of the city partied like him, drank like him, lost themselves in the celebration without a care for the hangover that followed. The greatest day of the year.

And Gods-damn did Callum truly have something to celebrate this year.

Callum poured himself another glass of whiskey. He thought about how Alibeth sat alone, chained up in some grimy cell in the creepy dungeon. He smiled with a giddiness that lit up his eyes. He smoothed out any trace of wrinkles in his dark suit and placed a crown atop his dark hair. A prince had to look the part, and if Clarence was going to insist on wearing the crown, Cal had to keep things congruent. Even if it did, constantly, feel like it was about to fall off. Like it didn’t quite belong there and even the crown knew it.

He drank the glass in one swallow and grabbed the bottle as he left his room. Clarence, the spider monkey, followed at his side wearing a similar dark suit with a rose pinned to it. Unusually chipper and expectantly drunk, Cal somehow managed to organize enough of the palace staff to help gather his offerings for the event and get the carriages moving towards the park.

---

“Ladies and gentleman, Prince Callum Danrose!” A herald announced his arrival. The door to a carriage swung open and clumsily but swiftly, Cal climbed on top of the carriage arms spread wide as he greeted his people with a drunken grin.

“Heeelllloooo, beautiful faces of Sorian…. He shouted. "Wait, forgot sumthin’” He mumbled to himself.

He stomped his foot on the roof of the carriage before leaning down to reach his arm back inside. Clarence handed Callum the half empty bottle of whiskey before the monkey also climbed up onto the roof.

“Goooood morning! I… am… delighted. Ecstatic. And… glad? No, grateful! Very grateful to see such an impressive… turnip…” he stopped, confused for a moment and then laughed. “Turnout! All for charity!” He brought the bottle to his lips and tipped it back for far too long. Then his eyes scanned the park for the event’s hosts.

“And can we have a round of app…appploo…applause…for the looovely Mr. Deacon and the charming Lady Blackwood for….all this! Amazing work!” He gestured towards them with the bottle, waving it around like a scepter. As he spoke his staff began setting up tables of wine, beer, mead, and liquor around the park.

“In the spirit of this…um…of today’s grand holiday, free drinks from the prince! Happy Drunkard’s Day,and thank you all for coming!” He shouted and the monkey at his side hopped up and down clapping, encouraging the excitement.

Callum attempted a graceful dismount from the roof of the carriage, but his footing slipped and he nearly fell completely off. He caught himself and managed to awkwardly slide himself down to the ground before holding up his bottle of whiskey to indicate not a drop had been lost. The monkey had no such trouble as it hopped on down and picked Callum’s fallen crown off the ground and handed it back to him. He placed back on his head where it sat, crooked.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Flashback; Sola 29th, Dawn. Warning for gore

A loud snap echoed through the air.

Callum awoke cold and shuddering. Hands stuck to dirt and coated in a tacky film. His eyes fluttered open and found only darkness. Only a faint trail of light whispered in from far away.

A weary pain had sunk into every muscle, his ribs cried out with each breath. Cal vaguely recognized this feeling, waking up the next morning after a fight. After a beating. He didn’t remember a fight, then again…

Right, Cal realized. Guess I wouldn’t remember.

Another snap echoed from within the darkness. Something crunched in an almost rhythmic way. But Callum hardly noticed the sounds. It was the scent that stole his immediate attention. Sharp…metallic…sickening. He knew exactly what caused the dirt to cling to him as he peeled himself from the ground and sat upright. His back rested against something solid, craggy, and cool.

He tried to wipe his hands off on his shirt. It was so damp with sweat, it almost helped. Where am I? His head pounded and his hands moved to his face to try and wipe away the dirt that stuck to him. He only succeeded in smearing blood and sweat from his hands around with the dirt and sweat on his face.

<We are in a cave.>

Another, louder, snap. The crunching noise picked back up again. It sounded wet.

His eyes began to adjust to the darkness. Everything snapped into focus. A patchy red trail led from the pool of blood he’d been lying in to a dead man a few feet away.

He was covered in blood, his hands were red with it.

Cal felt what he did as keenly as he felt his broken ribs.

No, He reminded himself. Not what I did, just what this body did. When Clarence had control. What my hands… He tried to stand up and let the pain end that thought as he sank back down to the ground.

What the spirit had done. The one he’d brought into the world after agreeing to its demands.

Snap!

Clarence broke one of the dead man’s hands off, bones snapping like twigs and skin tearing without resistance. Teeth tore through flesh and bone as the monkey’s mouth opened unnaturally wide. Bone crunched as it chewed and its lips smacked against flesh and blood.

You never said you planned on eating people.

<You did not ask.> Clarence’s attention never left the body as, piece by piece, the monkey continued to devour it.

This doesn’t help me. It’s not what I wanted. Not what I asked for.

<It is what I am owed!> Its voice clamoured around in Callum’s head, hot and angry. <I will NOT feast on scraps!>

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

An entire arm, from fingers to shoulder joint, was now gone. It had joined the body’s missing leg in the bottomless carven that was the familiar’s stomach.

<You will give. Or I will take. Either way...I devour.> The voice that probed his thoughts laughed as Cal realized he’d been foolish to think he could limit what Clarence took. He summoned this creature with blood; of course, it would not be satisfied with merely feeding on emotions or indulging in mortal pleasures. It craved blood, it wanted lives. It would always want more.

<We could amend our deal. I need not force your hand.> It offered as its fingers plunged into either side of the body’s torso. In one swift motion the monkey's arms swung and tore apart the chest.

The cracking of bone echoed through the cave.

What do you mean? He asked.

<You kill for me. You pick my meal. Choose who is guilty. Who deserves to be consumed.> Organs, ones Callum couldn’t even begin to try and identify, were ripped out and devoured with greedy intensity.

But I have to do the killing? A disturbingly long list of names immediately popped into his head. Nobles who abused their power without consequence; that would be justice. Witch Hunters that now littered the kingdom; ending any one of them was basically self-defense. There were plenty in Sorian who deserved death.

Could he do that? Kill someone just so his familiar could eat them? Was that the right move here? A way to make sure only people who deserved it got hurt from now on?

And what did that make him? If he killed to feed a hungry spirit just keep ahold of the bit of power he’d finally gotten his hands on?

<You will kill. I will eat.>

I could banish you. His threat was a breeze of a thought.

<But you won’t.> A shin snapped in half, but the monkey momentarily paused his feast.

<Go back to being weak. Useless. Powerless. A stupid child who ruins what he touches. Carves empty words into walls. I see you mind. I know what’s in there.> It laughed as it returned to its feast, savoring each bite.

<Can you get what you want…with clean hands? Would you prefer only others bloody their hands? Shrug your burdens off onto your allies?>

Callum knew the answer to that. He knew he couldn’t expect others to do all his dirty work for him. Revolutions got violent. People wouldn’t give up power easily. Eventually, he’d have to kill for his dreams to become reality. Why not be proactive? Kill two birds with one monkey.

How many? How often?

<As often as I want.>

Callum could only sit, watch, and listen. Slow, rhythmic crunching. Snapping of bones. A body disappearing bite by bite as time stretched on. Clarence filled his head with images as it ate.

Every misstep, reckless action, and outright failure was replayed in vivid detail in his mind. There was no looking away from it. No possible way to ignore it.

He watched himself fight his siblings in desperate attempts to make them hate him as much as his parents did. But they never did, even as he slung cruel words like stones, they inevitably gave him the kind of forgiveness he didn’t deserve.

The hurt in Ana’s eyes on that day he’d accused her of betraying Marek lingered in his memory.

Ana, who was maybe the only Danrose that had never once hurt him.

He watched as he and Ana tried so desperately to help Darryn. Even together they had no power. They couldn’t even own the blame for their mistakes.

And only Wulfric’s intervention changed anything.

Not that it had saved Darryn.

He’d never be able to think about Darryn without picturing him beaten, tortured, and barely able to stand as Alibeth called for his death.

The rhythmic crunching of bones returned broken up only by short pauses and occasionally snaps.

Cal saw every servant with hopeless eyes and a beaten down posture that wandered the halls of his home.

The countless times he’d failed Riona.

An entire life that was nothing but failure after failure with stretches of uselessness in between.

He resaw things that hadn’t happened. All those magically induced nightmares and visions, spliced in with memories. All the people he’d ever cared about; wailing from pyres.

Despite knowing it hadn’t happened, it had felt like a vision from the future. One so close that it was written in stone. That he could never hope to stop it from becoming real.

And it still felt that way.

Covered in blood, dirt, and a cold sweat that wouldn’t stop, Callum saw all the things he’d imagined so often they could’ve been real.

He watched all the way he imagined he would die.

A ghost of a man, drunk in an alleyway, slipping away, unnoticed.

His wrists unzipped in the throne room for one final tantrum.

His neck rested on wood while his cousin swung a blade.

Screaming on a pyre while Edin laughed and Alibeth watched with cold satisfaction.

Edin gutted him like an animal at the dinner table.

Through all of it, the one singular truth reared its ugly head; without Clarence all he’d ever be is exactly the same Callum he’d always been.

Useless. Failure. Disappointment.

Clarence was his only shot at being anything more than that.

The cave snapped back into focus as the monkey held up a head, it was all that was left of the body now. Its mouth stretched impossibly wide and a vast empty darkness rested behind its teeth. In one bite the head was engulfed.

Clarence crunched away.

<You know what you are alone. Without me. You will not choose that. I lend you power. You do not control me.>

There was nothing left of the body but a trail of blood. The evidence mostly devoured. Someone had to have seen. I’ll end up jailed. Or executed. What use would I be to you then? He argued.

A bloody grin displayed Clarence’s approval of this thought.

<My power is beyond yours.> The familiar shared a memory.

Familiar surroundings. He led a man away from a tavern. They talked of opium. Magic flared and illusion made the forest look like city streets. They walked on, cloaked in shadow.

They ended up in a cave. The fight was brutal. He toyed with the man. Rage and fear tasted like spiced meat. Savory and rich, left a burn in his mouth. He devoured the emotion that radiated off the man.

It fueled the spirit, strength like he’d never felt before. It surged through him as his hands ripped through flesh. He gripped something warm and slippery…

Clarence kept the memory playing far longer than what was necessary to prove its point. It ensured that Callum felt guts slide around his fingers. Saw himself licking the blood from his fingers. He watched smoke billow from his mouth and then his perspective shifted.

It stretched and freed itself from the vessel. Its vessel dropped to the ground. Teeth tore away at spilled viscera, warm and sharp…

<You are protected.> It’s voice almost sought to reassure. <But you should wash up in a river.> It suggested.

He had no other choice.

He summoned this spirit with blood. Of course it needed more. That was how power worked; always hungry, never satisfied.

This was always going to leave his hands bloodied.

TL;DR

Callum wakes up in a cave the morning after the banquet. He is no longer possessed by Clarence but discovers his familiar is eating the body of a rando they lured to a cave and killed the night before. Clarence offers to let Callum kill for him next time he wants a human sacrifice. Cal kinda thinks that might be his best option as he needs the monkey to help him grind away at his goals.

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider, railing near the bar area
Interactions: Meiyu @Tae
Mentions: Bastion @Oso
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 97
Injuries: New injuries; concussion, fractured ribs, formerly a giant splinter in his leg - now a hastily bandaged laceration, injured shoulder, all bruised up. Old injuries include a missing eye (that now holds a mystical chunk of rock), numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

A warforged caught his attention as the machine stood sentinel over a dragonborn who cradled his fallen child. A heartbreaking sight that echoed throughout the downed airship; too many passengers clung to loved ones who had either died during the crash or in the attack that preceded it.

But that wasn’t why the warforged caught his eye. As sunlight began to break through the smoke of the wreckage a beam glinted off a crystal shard. A shard that rested in the center of glowing design on the machine’s chestplate.

One that looked exactly like the pieces of crystal that had lodged themselves into Scratch, Val, and him.

Strange. More were affected by the shards, he wondered if the warforged had the insights he and the elf lacked. Where the crystal had come from, what it meant, and what it wanted from those its pieces now inhabited.

He needed to speak with that warforged.

”Eyepatch, might I trouble you for a moment?”

A voice that was neither Scratch nor Val called out, it seemed the nickname had embedded itself to him as tightly as the chuck of crystal that rested behind the eyepatch. While the shard brought only concern and uncertainty into his life, the nickname brought a small smile to his face.

He turned from the warforged and saw the Yuan Ti from earlier approaching. Blood stained her face from a wound on the head, as well as another wound at her side. Despite the injuries, she still moved with all the grace of a serpent.

“It is no trouble.” Ezekiel called out as his head bowed politely and he headed towards her. His footsteps carried a sense of urgency alongside the instinctual hesitation to place his full weight on his injured leg. His head turned a couple times to keep track of where the warforged was so as not to lose him in the chaos around them.

“May I help?” He asked once the distance had been closed with his hands hovering, but not making contact, with the obvious injuries the woman carried.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Flashback; Sola 27th, Early Afternoon, Vikena Estate

Olivia & Leo

“…Olivia?” Leo wandered around the Vikena estate looking for Charlotte’s mysterious close friend he’d never heard of until this summer. Or was she a cousin? He honestly couldn’t remember; too much had happened over a week to keep track of it all. Poking his head into the drawing room revealed only Champion, sprawled out in a patch of sunlight, napping. The little feline’s paws occasionally twitched as he dreamed away. He rolled a cat toy toward the creature, and a little bell inside the toy jingled. Champion’s ear twisted towards the sound, but the creature remained asleep. Leo sighed but left Champ to his nap.

“Olivia?” The search continued. Lottie had gone out. Playing billiards alone was dreadfully boring. Gilbert had already scolded him twice for poking around the kitchen and making a mess. Lorenzo, well, Leo had no desire to hear about gardening, ferrets, or anything that would depress him further. Olivia had seemed annoyed with him the day before.

The day before, he’d caught a rather disdainful look from Lady -you know, he wasn’t even sure what Olivia’s family name was- after he’d politely, by his standards, asked Deliliah not to pester him. Was it too much to ask to be left alone in his sour mood after such a distressing event? He’d earned a similar look after accidentally insulting Gilbert when he’d only poked about at his dinner and commented that it all tasted like dust. Who would have an appetite when their thoughts were consumed with danger looming over not just him but friends and family as well? Leo thought it was a reasonable reaction.

“Olivia?” His voice, mild as it was, echoed through an empty house. He wondered if she found his mopey attitude annoying or shared Lottie’s overly sentimental attachment to servants. Either way, someone he might be able to spark up an argument with sounded like a welcomed distraction from his frantic thoughts. One day, Leo would have to seriously reflect on why he found arguments strangely comforting, but today was that day. Today was merely going to be the day he gave up wallowing about.

Olivia sat on her bed with her magic book beside her. She contemplated which spells she would show Charlotte. Her mind was absorbed with the idea of sharing it with her. It was dangerous, reckless and even immoral; yet, part of her mind egged her on. It was intoxicating and even if she didn’t show her. After everything that happened so far, she knew that Charlie would be exposed to it. So, Olivia decided it would be safest if she introduced her to it.

Truthfully, she needed time to spend alone. The way Leo treated the maids and servants, rubbed her the wrong way. It shouldn’t matter what class someone was born into; it should matter who they were as a person. Delilah was the sweetest person, after Charlotte, and she had grown fond of her quickly. Then, Leo added salt to the wound by insulting Gilbert. This caused Olivia to glare and snap at Leo. It wasn’t right to react that way, but she had become fiercely protective over the Vikenas and the servants. She hated to even use those words - they were people, after all. Therefore, she thought it best to avoid him until she could believe she’d not snap at him.

Unfortunately, that wish would not come to fruition. His voice rang through the hallways, piercing the silence with his constant calling of her name. She sighed and tried to ignore it, but three times was too much. Olivia shut the book and shoved it under her pillow. Then, Olviia stood up, slid into her sleepers, and pulled her hair back. She assessed her outfit–a blouse with fake ties and pants, and decided she looked presentable enough. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes briefly, then opened the door and stuck her head out.

”Leo?” She called back in a singsong voice. It was a fake attempt at mimicking him. ”Eeeee Ooooo,”

Leo heard his name echoing around upstairs. “Olivia? It’s mid-afternoon; are you still in your room?” He called up the stairs as he followed the sound of her voice. Briefly, he wondered how much like his mother that sounded and refrained from ranting about the dangers of idleness.

“I’m bored. There’s nothing to do here. And being bored is depressing me further.” He announced once he found her. “So, what are you up to?” Leo asked, and his eyes said one thing: entertain me.

Olivia frowned when Leo came into her room. His judgemental tone caused her to stiffen. She tensed for another potential argument. This was not helped when he complained about being bored or, as he called it, depressed. Leo, who had everything fed to him on a silver spoon, with all the money in the world, was depressed he was bored? He had the threat of Calbert and the Black Rose looming over him and his father’s death–however, his life was still more grand than the poorest people in the nation.

A flash of irritation rose inside like fire. It was not doused when his expression explicitly told her to entertain him. Olivia gritted her teeth and folded her arms. ”Bored, are we? Depressed? You poor nothing! We must write it in the next newspaper!”

“Why would I want that in the newspaper?” Leo asked.

”Have you done nothing to help yourself with your predicament?” She picked up a book Charlie had given her and held it in front of him, then set it down. ”Have you tried reading?” She continued steamrolling him.
”Or better yet, improving your circumstances?”

Olivia moved over to her dresser and picked up the yarn and knitting tools Deliliah had provided. ”Ever learn how to knit?”

“One, knitting is for old spinsters. Two, reading is not only boring, it is a waste of time. There is nothing to be learned from a book that cannot be better learned through experience. My circumstances will improve when we take down Marek and the Damiens. Books and yarn will not help with that.” He paused and plucked one of the knitting needles from Olivia’s hand. He spun in with his fingers and then jabbed at the air.

“Unless you're suggesting we stab Calbert with these. That might be fun.” He offered with an impish grin.

Olivia scowled at Leo and didn’t make any effort to hide it. ”I hope your circumstances improve for the better, Varian.” She watched him pluck one of her needles and pretend to stab the air. For a moment, she envisioned stabbing him with it.

”Maybe we can test that theory on you,” She snatched her knitting equipment away from him and scowled. ”Don’t you have better things to do than antagonize me?”

“Antagonize? I thought we could get to know each other better. We,” he paused and used his finger to gesture between the two of them, “are supposed to be allies. It’s rude to threaten to stab your allies.” He added before snatching the needle back.

“Do you doubt my resolve? I am equally dedicated to taking down Calbert and Black Rose. They have threatened me and left bones in my room, and you consistently act like I am the enemy here. So what is it, Liv, jealous that when I am around you are not the prettiest redhead in the room?” Leo continued, trying to provoke whatever her problem was with him out of her. He poked the knitting needle against his finger as he tried to judge how useful it would be as a stabbing implement.

Olivia stared sharply at Leo and folded her arms. The way he gestured in the air and the words he spoke. She knew nobles could be rude and arrogant. Leo was on another level. Her eyes flashed with fury at the last sentence. She snatched her knitting needle away from him and pushed it hastily into the drawer.

”Perhaps,” Olivia hissed, her voice dangerously low. ”I have better things to do than argue with you-” she glared at him as her voice sparked with fire now, ”with someone as rude and arrogant as you, I am surprised you’re her friend.” Olivia gestured lazily in the direction of Charlotte’s room. ”You treat everyone who isn’t carrying noble blood like us like dirt and it’s time you quit looking down on them. They’re as human as we are and deserve to be treated better. Delilah and Gilbert are fuckin’ awesome. They are doing what they are supposed to,”

”Mama, why's that girl covered in dirt?”
”She’s a disgusting peasant. She can’t afford to wash up. Hurry along, the stench is awful.” The woman’s husband laughed loudly, and Persephone stood there with confusion and shame. The kid frowned, then took his mother’s hand and ran off, as if he were afraid of catching a disease.

”The kingdom has nothing better to offer us than these eggs? I fear for the chickens in your care.”

”Oh put those eggs down. We can do better than this creature. Filthy peasant. Why does the kingdom even keep you?”

Memories filled her mind and the storm brewing inside Olivia threatened to release. She clenched her fists and glanced at the door. She had to remain calm, but a voice inside her urged her to react stronger. What if she said too much? Olivia tapped her arms on her arm and then gestured to the door, as if trying to tell Leo to get out without verbalizing it. She took several deep breaths to try calming down.

Leo gave a lighthearted laugh. “Do you really believe that?” He asked, shaking his head. “I think it’s natural to look down on what is beneath you. We are like hawks, Liv, soaring above it all. Who's got the time to worry about insects?” He continued with an unbothered shrug.

“Everyone has people they care about and people they don’t. I’m just more honest about it than most. As for Lottie, I believe we are friends because she knows she has my support, and I will always have her back. So, if Lottie cares about you, then we should work this out. Have this argument and find common ground. A fractured team will not help Lottie, and I’m not losing to Calbert and Black Rose. I’m too arrogant for that.” Leo teased with a grin.

“So unclench your fists and finish saying what’s on your mind.”

Leo’s words did nothing but stroke the fire burning inside of her. Her eyes flashed like the flames that ruined her home. She took several deep breaths and glowered ominously. If she weren’t under this person, she knew where she would stand with him.

”Insects?” She repeated indignantly. ”You’re calling non noble people insects?” Her voice rose now with fury. ”You are what’s wrong with this world, Leo. The common folk are people who deserve better. How dare you call them insects.”

She shook her head with disgust. Did Lottie know this about him and accept it? Was this how people acted in this cruel world? Her vision turned red and she knew if she did not calm down, she’d either accidentally or purposefully spark her magic. It repulsed her to think of it and left a bad taste in her mouth, but Leo was angering her.

”I refuse to work with someone who views the common folk as insects. I don’t know what common ground there is if you think that way. Maybe if you quit viewing the common folk as you do I’d be willing to work with you. Until then, I don’t want to work with or talk to you.” Olivia approached Leo, her voice strong with conviction. Spells ran through her mind dangerously quick. She had to calm down and that wouldn’t happen until this arrogant lion left her room. ”I won’t lose to them either. Get out of my room, Leo, or apologize for your fucking rudeness.”

Though she knew his bond with Lottie ran deep, she found herself aghast at his mindset. She decided she’d have to speak to Lottie about it later.

“You’re calling me rude and swearing at me in the same breath.” Leo calmly pointed out the irony of it. All of it was an entirely unreasonable reaction to a minor difference of opinion on a trivial matter.

“Disappointing. I had hoped you actually cared about Lottie, but clearly you care more about your own sensibilities more than her safety. You’re here, benefiting from the generosity of the Vikena’s and, at the same time, refusing to work with one of the few people who has always supported them. Over a minor difference of opinion?” He rolled his eyes but left her room; no point in continuing an unproductive conversation. Leo wondered what on earth made Charlotte want to befriend someone so unpleasant.

He went to check on Champ, hoping the cat was done with his nap. Much to his delight, Leo found the kitten wandering about downstairs. After a brief bit of hunting, he located a cat toy that consisted of a long bit of string with some feathers at one end and a handle at the other. Time to give the little cat some exercise!

Champion proved himself to be quite the acrobat, and Leo quickly forgot about Lottie’s irksome friend as he watched the tiny creature hunt a cluster of feathers.

There was a long pause. Olivia had counted to ten multiple times and clenched her fists. She took several deep breaths. Thenn, quiet, nearly silent footsteps, sounded in the Vikena mansion. She watched Leo play with Champion. Memories of playing with her old cats as a peasant raced through her mind. Nobles and peasants weren’t all that different, just a different stroke of luck in life. She sighed silently and moved into Leo’s peripheral vision so she didn’t scare him. How badly she wished she could make him understand…

”You grew up understanding the world a certain way. It doesn’t hurt to change your worldview for a minute. You need to realize all of us are people, rich or poor, and just because someone rolled a lower dice in life doesn’t mean you can’t be kind to them. I’ll work with you for Lottie’s sake and peace of mind, but I don’t want to hear you talk trash about another person in my presence. Charlotte and I love Delilah and Gilbert, and I will defend them forever. Plus, Charlie only had them when she lost her parents. They’re not lesser just cause they work here.”

Olivia folded her arms and stared at him. If he were to say something rude, she’d give up.

Leo flicked the feather toy. Champ lept at it, diving through the air with toes spread and claws extended. His attention stayed on the kitten as the feline caught and grappled with the feather toy.

“I change my views all the time. When it suits me. Your views happen to offer me no benefit, but I’ll agree to your compromise.” He glanced at Liv, gave a respectful dip of his head, and smiled. “And I’ll try not to say anything too controversial around you.” His wrist flicked, and the feathers moved from Champion’s grasp. The kitten nestled into a crouch, tension and anticipation coiled up as the mighty hunter prepared for another grand leap. Leo watched the cat.

“Lottie isolated herself after her mother died. That was her choice; sometimes, that’s what a person needs. Now that she’s ready to ask for help, I am here and more than willing to put myself in any danger that helping her might require. She is like a second sister to me.” He continued, leaving out how Delilah and Gilbert were only there for Lottie because they worked in her home. Proximity was not the same as loyalty. He wondered how loyal the servants would be if they were the ones finding human bones and death threats in their rooms.

And it was weird to hear Liv boast about how she loved the servants she’d just met while treating him, one of Charlotte’s oldest friends, like he was just some asshole who’d shown up and stomped on their sandcastle.

“You ever lost anyone, Liv? Someone who really mattered to you?” He asked as the feathers dangled just inches from the ground, ready to swish from Champion's acutely tuned trajectory. The kitten leaped through the air again, tackling the feather with effortless precision.

“Ha. Mightiest hunter, Champ. Neither vermin nor bird is safe anywhere near this estate.” He praised the kitten as it tried to tear the cat toy from his hand. Leo took a step closer to Liv and offered her the cat toy.

Olivia’s eyes followed Champion’s leap, but her expression saddened. She didn’t take the toy right away. Instead, she looked at Leo with something unreadable in her gaze, her voice gentler than it had been all day.

“Yeah.” She nodded slowly. “I’ve lost people. People who meant everything to me and when they're gone, it’s like some part of you gets ripped out,but the world just keeps spinning like nothing happened but you just feel stuck in that moment you lost them... Buried beneath the weight.” After a sigh, she reached out and took the toy, her fingers lightly brushing his. She flicked the feathers once, watching Champion tumble after them with wild joy.

“And the world expects you to move on. To get over it. Like there’s a moment where it all goes away and everything’s fine again. But I don’t think that happens either.” Leo added, voice barely above a whisper as he shared something he didn’t think he should say aloud.

“I’m sorry you know that pain too.” Her voice was sincere and filled with compassion. Maybe she had misjudged him.

Her eyes lifted to his. “And I do appreciate you trying to compromise… even if it’s just for Lottie’s sake.”

“If you're Lottie’s friend, truly as you claim to be, then you matter to me too. I would like us to be friends. Friends can disagree, you know, about things and still care about each other.” He pointed out. If anything, Leo found people who only ever agreed about everything a bore to be around.

There was a pause and then she looked down again. Her thumb traced the string between her fingers.

“I think Charlotte still carries that kind of pain.” Her voice was quiet and almost protective of her secret. “She smiles a lot and talks fast. There’s something burning behind her eyes. Like she’s afraid that if she ever stopped pretending she was okay, she might fall apart.”

“She doesn’t believe her mother’s death was a suicide. And whether she’s right or not hardly matters. She’s in the same place I am. Not knowing. Not a shred of closure. Stuck with an open wound.” He didn’t expect Lottie not to pretend, he didn’t poke too hard at her mask, and expected the same in return. An unspoken understanding that the pretending was needed; it was how they kept going.

Olivia’s stomach churned. Her mother’s death being ruled a suicide when it could be a murder was terrifying. Who would have murdered her mother? The thought of not having closure would drive her crazy. Guilt and sympathy simultaneously filled Olivia and she bit her lip.

“The pretending, it’s necessary, you know. We’re not that different from animals, we know not to let wounds show. To hide any signs of weakness cause when that shows, that’s when a predator makes its move. Or worse, fall apart and risk vultures circling, ready to pick apart and take whatever you have.” There was no doubt in his words; he’d seen it in nature, and he’d seen it in high society. Men like Calbert and Marek were the clear predators, who’d take any opportunity to strike at a wounded adversary. He’d said vultures for Liv’s benefit, but insects were just as much scavengers as birds that picked at rotten flesh. Always best to give those beneath them not a shred of evidence to think there was anything that could be picked away at.

“Pretend to be a better, stronger version of yourself, and eventually that’s what you become. Exactly what you pretend to be. It’s a good strategy.” It worked. He did it all the time.

Leo’s words cut through her like a knife. She couldn’t imagine the societal pressure and pretending they had to endure all the time. It sounded exhausting, and she began wondering how else she might have misjudged nobles. ”That sounds exhausting,” she murmured.

Truth be told, she had been stuck in survival mode and in fight or flight since her parent’s death. Being on the street meant she could never fully relax; when would her next meal be if she didn’t protect her hoard? What if she was kidnapped or murdered by some bandits? Living at Max’s bar only provided temporary relief–after all, Max wasn’t exactly rich either and Liv tried not to use too many of her resources. The inconsistent sleep and meal schedule was something she was still recovering from.

”Leo, I am so sorry to hear that.” Olivia moved a step towards him slowly and cautiously, as to let him know she didn’t mean any harm. ”That advice is helpful, but it comes from needing it to survive. I… I really wish things could be different and you weren’t in this awful position.” Olivia bit her lip and then inquired. ”Do.. Do… Or would a hug help take the edge off…?”

A hug solved nothing.

But he nodded anyway. Like a handshake, it strengthened a bond; it was the last step before he could count this as a goal accomplished. Mend fences with Olivia. Box checked off. A small goal, but at least he could count it as doing something productive today.

“Yeah, I'll take a hug.” He said, taking a step forward and letting his arms wrap comfortably around her shoulders and back. “And I’m sorry you can so easily relate to what Lottie and I have experienced.” One hand squeezed her shoulder as they shared a brief moment of grief. A hug offered just enough warmth to remind him that the world hadn’t always felt this cold.

Unexpectedly, it helped.

“Olivia, do you think I’m an asshat?” He asked. A question that seemed to come out of nowhere built upon a word he couldn’t quite get out of his head. His expression stayed serious, as if taking an official poll as he waited for her answer.

Olivia accepted his hug in return. Relief washed over her like a bucket of water on a hot sunny day at the farm. That’s all right. Some of us have different burdens to bear, don’t we?” The squeeze on her shoulder caused a genuine smile to escape her–and she met his gaze to let him know. For Olivia, the hug helped as well.

Leo’s next words took her back. She stared at him for a moment, then tilted her head to one side like an owl. While he came off arrogant and cold, it was clear there was more to him than she knew. ”No,” she replied honestly. She took one of his hands and lifted his chin up to meet her gaze with her free hand, so he could see she wasn’t flying. ”You are misunderstood.”

She smiled and gestured to Champion. ”And what do you think?”

Champion, who held no grudges against anyone, simply stretched out. Back arching and claws digging into the carpeting before flopping over onto his side and relaxing in a patch of sunlight.

✨Beyond The Veil✨

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

Location: Sundown Row - The Pink Room • Time: Night

Interactions: Wren @Tpartywithzombi, Locke @Oso• Mentions: none

^{____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Noah nodded, the self satisfied smirk of a creature that was accustomed to always getting his way stayed painted across his face.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” His glib reply held no emotion, and his cold crimson eyes simply followed Locke as he moved while his fingers gently stroked Wren’s hair. He still caught hints of blood mixed in with the scent of her shampoo and the soothing texture of soft, silken, strands turned a smirk into something more content.

“Though if I can’t call you brother anymore…then I suppose you don’t get the family discount after all. Tragic, really, because I’m expensive...even for royalty.”

Noah chuckled, “I can afford it.” There wasn’t a price he wouldn’t pay to see Angel back where she belonged. Magnus wanted the same, Noah had no doubts there. Family mattered more than anything.

“Blood is more than family, and you and I... we’re tied to something thicker than all that. You can hate it, deny it, bury it under all those daddy issues swirling inside of your chest, but it’s still there.”

Noah only lifted his hand from Wren’s head and waved dismissively at Locke. The man was partially right, it wasn’t just blood that made a family. Beyond blood, it was unwavering loyalty that binded family.

And he and Locke; they shared neither blood nor loyalty.

“We’ll always be brothers, Noah. Whether you like it or not.”

They had never been brothers. Locke had only ever been as manipulative and charming as his race was known for, but eventually betrayals got answered. One day, when Locke’s usefulness dried up, it might come time for Lucky to answer for his betrayal. They both had all the time in the world to wait around for that day, plenty of games to be played in the meantime.

“Sorry to disappoint you, love…But I’ve got somewhere to be. Remember my face… we’ll make it up together another time.”

And it really was too bad she was going to stay disappointed. There would not be another time. The dancer was right to feel on edge, her time had already begun to run out the moment she’d been sent over to this table. She’d simply heard too much and there was no reason to give her the opportunity to share that information.

He remained, relaxed in the cheaply made booth, his fae pet clinging to him and not so subtly setting the exact image Noah wanted. For all the legendary power the fae possessed, Noah kept one as a prized pet and he was the dominant predator here. It was exactly how he wanted Locke to picture him.

“And Noah…Give your father my regards.”

“Will do, stranger.” He called back and he waited until he heard the door of The Pink Room open and Locke’s footsteps slowly disappear into the night.

“Wren, what was all that tapping about? Morse Code?” He asked quietly. “Was he sending secret messages?” He teased as if the very idea was laughable; their bond was unbreakable.

“Do you want to help me kill Locke’s dancer? I want to leave a very special message for Angel.” He offered, lips almost right against her ear. Noah nipped at her neck, teeth but no fangs, followed by a soft trail of kisses from her neck back to her ear.

“We could make some truly inspired art beneath the stars.” He whispered.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Ariella & Callum

Flashback; Afternoon, so post morning events and before the evening banquet

---

Callum,
I need to speak with you. It’s urgent. You know where to find me.
—Ari

The letter was brief, each word carefully chosen. Ariella knew the risk—there was always a chance that prying eyes would scan its contents before it reached him. But Callum would understand. He’d know where to find her.
She folded the parchment with steady hands, though the storm inside her was anything but calm. There was no one else she could trust with this. No one else who would understand the fury simmering beneath her skin. She sealed the letter with a wax seal with a Large E printed into the wax.
—-

Ariella paced back and forth, her bare feet striking the dirt, kicking up dust as a worn trail formed beneath her restless steps. The morning air clung to her skin, cool yet suffocating, as her thoughts spiraled, refusing to settle. The voice—that voice—echoed in her mind, gnawing at her sanity like a persistent specter.

Her fingers, raw from constant wringing, dug into one another, pressing tightly against her chest as if holding herself together. Each step felt heavier than the last, frustration and unease coiling tighter within her.

Mid-stride, she stopped abruptly, her gaze catching on a small trunk resting atop a weathered rock. It was ornate, its intricate carvings illuminated by the moonlight, the iron lock glinting coldly. A shiver prickled down her spine.

For a fleeting moment, she was still, trapped in the pull of its presence. Then, like a snap of a thread, the trance broke. She tore her eyes away, resuming her pacing as the conversation with Drake replayed in her mind, each word twisting deeper into her thoughts.

Callum trekked unseen through the woods, following the same path Ari had led him down the first time he’d been to the ravine. This time was different, now his long-limbed familiar strode beside him, ensuring that the pair were neither seen nor followed. Unseen by mortal eyes, the spirit had promised. There would be no tabloid mentions or hushed whispers about this secret meeting in the woods. Urgent, had been the word Ari had used, and Callum figured from the vagueness of her letter; that secrecy was paramount.

The spirit’s help had a cost, but Callum had decided when he’d made his pact that he would trust his familiar. No point in summoning one if he wasn’t going to trust it. Given what he’d traded away for the favor, he could only hope Edin’s banquet tonight went as well as Ana and Fritz’s event had gone. The familiar dissolved its magical cloaking as Ari came into view, her frantic pacing noticed by both sets of eyes.

“Ari? You okay.” Callum asked softly. He recognized that sort of pacing, a desperate movement to burn off nerves. The far-off look of being lost in the chaos of one’s own head. His room had a similar path worn into the floorboards.

<This mortal is deeply troubled.> The voice wrapped around Cal’s mind and its tone buzzed with excitement. The monkey stood still, closed its eyes, and took a slow, deep, inhale. <A pungent feast. Something…soured. Gone rotten.> A wide grin broke out across its face as emotion wafted his way.

Stopping abruptly in her tracks, Ariella turned toward Callum, her expression brightening the moment she saw him. “Cal!” she greeted him with genuine warmth, her voice carrying a note of relief. But just as quickly, the light in her eyes flickered, replaced by the weight of an unspoken burden.

Right… the letter.

Her forced smile barely masked the storm brewing beneath the surface. A shadow passed over her face, and her fingers twitched, subconsciously picking at the skin of her hands. Her voice softened, tinged with uncertainty. “Thank you for coming. I know it’s a risk, with how many eyes are on you, but… I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

Callum smiled, a look of pride flashed across his face. “I wasn’t followed. We can speak freely.”

Her shoulders sagged as if releasing a heavy weight, and the words tumbled from her lips in a frantic rush, like she had been holding her breath and was finally gasping for air.

“My parents erased my memories, and my brother helped cover it up. I was—apparently—addicted to black magic, and now my aura is bleeding yellow and black, all mixed together!” Her hands flailed wildly, emphasizing the sheer panic woven into her voice.

“I keep hearing this strange voice, like something is calling to me, and I—” She sucked in a shaky breath, her eyes darting toward the object resting atop the rock. Her outstretched finger trembled as she pointed at it. “I’m really scared to find out what’s in that box.”

As the last word left her lips, she inhaled sharply, as though she had spoken every ounce of air from her lungs in that one desperate confession.

“Oh…and I casted a spell on you” she casually added with a nervous smile as her brows furrowed

Once Ari seemed a little more relaxed, Callum closed the remaining distance between them. The burden of what she had to share released into the space around them. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.Ari looked at him “First, if your family did that to you, fuck them,” he said. She smiled softly as her eyes softened. He looked at the box, he wondered what spell she had cast on him.

“How much of what they told you, can you even trust?” He asked.

“That is true.” she added

<Yes! Open the box! The monkey watched with interest, its eyes moved back and forth, between Ari and the box.

“What’s the voice sound like? Does it sound like you, your occluded memories calling out? Or something else? Something that means you harm?” He asked, focusing on one thing at a time.

Shrugging lightly, her fingers fidgeted restlessly, twisting over each other as if trying to weave her anxious thoughts into something tangible. “It’s like a voice carried on the wind,” she murmured, her gaze flickering uncertainly. “It started a few nights ago—maybe five? There was a shift in the air, something… different.”

She hesitated, breaking away from his embrace, her movements careful. Without another word, she turned and padded toward the vine-covered greenhouse, its glass panes fogged from within, ghostly in the dim light. Disappearing inside for only a moment, she soon returned, her expression unreadable as she stretched out her hand, revealing the small effigy she had crafted that night.

“It was the same night I made this,” she said softly, her voice laced with something between conviction and uncertainty. “A protection spell.” Her fingers tightened around the effigy for a breath before she offered it up fully. “You said you were doing something that evening… I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“You did a protection spell on me!” Callum whispered with excitement. Five nights ago…oh, He suddenly remembered exactly what he’d been up to five nights ago.

Her eyes lowered, tracing the rough, hand-stitched edges of the effigy, its form shaped with care, yet marked by urgency. It looked as if it had been set on fire, the branches and sticks singed “If it worked, I should have felt a change in luck, some kind of misfortune.” She exhaled slowly, as if the realization were only just settling in. “Maybe… that’s why I was caught with the painting. Why I spent that night in the cells.”

The monkey climbed up onto Callum’s shoulder and snatched the effigy from Ari. Without hesitation, it took a bite. It chewed on the sticks and cloth that made up one of the arms. <Well done…singed and sweet...> Its snack was interrupted.

Callum grabbed the effigy out of the familiar’s hands. See, that’s rude. He pointed out to the spirit who could not have cared less. “I summoned a familiar, and he’s kind of a dick, so, now, he doesn’t get attention until he behaves.” Callum briefly explained the monkey and returned to more pressing concerns.

“And It did work. That night Riona and I found a secret room in Wystan’s room. Filled with cursed objects.” He held up the little Callum doll. “Pretty sure it saved me from putting on an evil crown…” Ariella looked at Cal with an expression of concern before turning her attention to the monkey on his shoulder with a smile.

<It did! A dark and bitter curse.> It continued its slow chewing.

“And, then Riona and I nearly died when a crazy guy broke in through a window. So, you know, big thank you there for this.” He offered the effigy back to her. Accepting it back Ari held it in her hand for a moment before offering it to his pet with a grin. The monkey snatched the doll from Ari’s hand and took another bite.

“Maybe…you woke something up, or weakened whatever your family did to hide magic from you?”

Her gaze dropped for a moment before shaking her head softly “ I think you woke something up…” she nearly whispered as her attention turned back to Cal. “ Infact I am starting to wonder if this voice I keep hearing isnt a voice at all…”

“I woke something up?” He repeated. “What do you think it is?” Cal asked as the monkey chewed on its snack, crunching sounds filling his ear.

"Whatever this is… it's dark." Her voice was hushed, almost reverent, as if speaking too loudly might awaken something lurking in the shadows. A chill hung in the air, and distant voices whispered on the wind, calling her name. "It triggered some kind of magical reaction, but even I don’t fully understand it yet."

Absentmindedly, she reached up and ran her fingers through the soft fur of the monkey,rubbing his head as he perched on his shoulder, who seemed far more interested in its snack than the weight of her words.

“Ari, don’t…” It was too late. Her hand was already on the familiar.

The chewing stopped. The remnants of the poppet fell to the ground. Beady eyes stared at the offending hand, and its fur bristled. When Ari withdrew her hand, the monkey dropped from Callum’s shoulder and landed softly on the ground.

"I was hoping maybe you had heard something too? Felt something?" Her gaze flickered to him, searching for any sign of recognition. "I think this ties back to my lost memories, but I don’t know how… or why."

“No,” Callum answered. “Not voices in the wind. But that night, a lot of crazy stuff happened. I saw things, heard things…things I can barely believe were real…” He trailed off as his eyes flickered from Ari to the monkey who was still indignant about being petted.

The monkey’s hands moved as it beckoned forth the shadows cast by trees. Shadows swirled together until they formed a feminine hand that rose and reached out towards Ari. Long elegant fingers stretched out as if to pet Ari in the same manner that she had petted the familiar. Before the shadowy hand made contact, each finger snapped and twisted in an unnatural direction. An unnaturally wide smile overtook the monkey’s face, every tooth displayed.

Her eyes widened as she watched the shadows twist and turn a smile spreading on her face as she withdrew her hand.

“He says ‘there won’t be another warning’.” Callum said, still looking at his familiar. “It’s the petting thing; he really doesn’t like it.” He clarified. Ari nodded “Noted, and I apologise” she clasped her hands together. The familiar nodded its head in return.

Turning away, she reached for a worn satchel resting against a nearby rock, pulling out a glass jar. She hesitated, holding it for a moment, staring into the depths of its swirling contents before stepping back in front of him.

She extended the jar toward him. Inside, the water churned in a mesmerizing yet unsettling display—deep, inky blacks twisting together with gold, an endless storm trapped within fragile glass.

"This… may end badly." Her voice was steady, but as her eyes dropped to the jar, a flicker of uncertainty danced in their depths. "But I need to find answers, a way to get my memories that they stole. Finally be free of the chains they’ve casted on me. Are you willing to help me?" Her green eyes looked up to her friend full of excitement and fear.

“I’m clearly not opposed to working with the darker parts of magic.” He carefully took the jar from Ari and turned it over in his hand, watching the water that was imbued with both a golden light and jet-black darkness. Opposing forces swirled together but never blended, instead, the two forces only complemented each other. He handed the jar back with a reassuring smile.

“Whatever you need, I’m happy to help. So we’ll unlock those memories, and I think that can only be a good thing. Not just to give you back whatever parts of yourself your family stole from you, but all these things they don’t want us to know, that’s just power they don’t want us to have. It’s why the crown tried to purge witchcraft from this world: to keep knowledge and power from those they can’t control. It’s why a bunch of long-dead witches tried to close off the so-called darker paths: to keep others from doing what they were too afraid to do.” He took a step closer and gave Ari his full attention, eyes locked on hers.

“Why should we be afraid? We can cast off limits and use magic to free others, to make this world better, and to get rid of all those people who will try to limit us. Dark, light, what does it matter if the end goal is something so much better than what we have now?” He asked before gently cupping his hands around Ari’s face. Feeling his hands around his face Ari’s cheeks slightly pinked as her eyes grew a little wider, she watched him closely as he continued.

“Your magicae is beautiful, a perfect reflection of what’s possible, and no matter how dark your road has gotten or will get, I want to walk that path with you. I trust who you are, I want to know who you were and who you will be when you are truly free.” Her hand reached up to her face, resting her right hand over his. She felt seen and accepted by Cal, and his words were the kindest and most honest she had heard from anyone.

Her titled slightly into his palm that her hand held as her expression softened. “ I just want to be free…” she said softly nearly a whisper that only the two could hear.

“You will be.” Callum whispered, and the longer he looked at her the more the world around him disappeared. There was just the warmth from Ari’s cheek and the gentle pressure of her hand against his. The way the color in her cheeks made her freckles stand out. Her vibrant eyes. The curve of her lips. His heart beat like the wings of a hummingbird.

<Warm and rich and sickeningly sweet.> The familiar commented as it fed off the emotion it syphoned from the pair. <Almost makes my teeth hurt.>

Shut up. He told the voice in his head.

“So, how much do you know about memory spells?” He asked, sliding his hands away from Ari’s face. “I’ve never messed with any of that, but I do know someone who does: Marek Delronzo.” He offered with a smile. If anyone would know how to undo a memory spell, he’d bet it would be Marek.

“And what’s with the box?” He added.

Her hands fell limply to her sides as she drew in a slow, measured breath, as if the brief exchange had stolen the air from her lungs. A flicker of something unreadable passed across her face before she turned, her gaze settling on the satchel of belongings her brother had given her.

She blinked, as though trying to piece together fragments of a dream, then spoke, her voice laced with uncertainty. “I don’t remember much of anything, to be honest. I feel like a novice, yet according to my brother, I wielded dark magic so often that they began to fear me. And in that fear, they stripped away everything I knew about it.” Her fingers grazed the edge of the bag as she crouched down, her expression troubled. “I’m starting to wonder if I even attended etiquette school like my mother always insisted I had.”

“Oh, no offense, but you don’t act like you went to etiquette school.” He teased. “And by that, I mean you’re not boring and deeply disgusted by the thought of running around the woods free from shoes.” Ari nodded with enthusiasm as he understood her thoughts.

She reached inside, shuffling through its contents before pulling out a stack of journals. They rested in her hands for a moment, the weight of them strangely foreign, as if she were holding remnants of someone else's life. With quiet care, she set them beside an ornate wooden box before delving back into the bag. One by one, she retrieved more items, spreading them out on the ground as if attempting to make sense of the puzzle before her.

Finally, she sat back on her heels, her gaze lifting to meet Cal’s. “Everything else was burned. This is all that’s left.”

“Of course they burned your stuff. Those who can’t do magic, try to burn it out of existence.” He replied, a bitter edge to his tone.

Her fingers traced the intricate patterns carved into the wooden box. It was large, beautifully detailed, but odd in its construction—there was no visible keyhole, only a peculiar seal embedded at the center. She frowned, tilting her head in thought.

“I don’t know how to open it...” she murmured, squinting at the seal. Her brow furrowed. “A key, maybe?”

“Where would the key even go?” He asked, looking at the box.

<Magic.> Clarence reached out, its fingers caressing the ornate carvings. Something dark sizzled against the familiar’s magicae as its fingers ran across the seal. “It’s locked with magic. Which means whatever’s in there must be important.” Callum said.

Can you open it? He looked at the monkey who studied the box like a gift it wasn’t allowed to open just yet. <Find the one who made it,> was the only response Cal got.

Can you…sniff them out? Pick up the scent from the box. He wondered, only to be met with an incredulous look. <Do I look like a hound?> It asked.

No. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. <I will not act like a hound. It is beneath me.>

“So we have to find the witch that locked it. Like a quest.” Cal said, looking back at Ari as she glanced back at him. Despite how screwed up the circumstances were, the idea of a quest involving tracking down the witch who helped steal Ari’s memories was exciting. An important quest, and he was her first choice to help with it.

“You think Drake would give you any more information? Oh…and how mad are we at him right now? I should know in case I run into your brother, your feuds are my feuds.” He asked.

A soft chuckle erupted from Ari as she covered her mouth at his comment towards her brother. Her expression turning into a soft look of thanks as he spoke of her feuds.

“I’d guess that whoever they are, they’ve taken steps to avoid being found, but we should at least try a tracking spell first.” He suggested; no reason not to leave no stone unturned.

“A tracking spell is a good idea…Maybe even these journals have some clues. ” Her attention turned to the stack of books infront of her. “Drake was really only a child when everything happened and as much as I want to be upset with all of them he did recover some of my items atleast.” a long drawn out sigh left her before she stood back to her feet.

Dusting off the bottom of her dress “I also wonder what else I may have hidden around here.” she looked around for a moment before turning her attention to Cal “What about you? Any feuds I should know about? After all your fueds are my feuds” she smiled brightly.

“Almost the same as yours; my shitty parents. And the rest of this nation’s nobles who don’t care about their people. Hence the familiar: Clarence is going to help me defeat those enemies.” Cal answered, and he was relieved he didn’t have to add Drake to that list because he was starting to like the guy.

Ariella’s smile softened as she listened to him, her heart squeezing at the weight in his voice. He always carried so much—anger, determination, the need to fix what was broken. She wished she could take some of it from him, wished she could make the world kinder to him. But if she couldn’t do that, she’d stand beside him through all of it.

“Edin, and Alibeth, have a lot to answer for. I’m going to make sure they suffer for the things they’ve done. So my feuds…are dangerous ones to take up. If you want to take that back, I’ll still help you with yours.” He offered, giving her an out if she wanted to take it.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress as she took a step closer, her voice quieter but unwavering.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Cal. I would never take it back.” She searched his face, as if daring him to argue. “You’re important to me. If this is your fight, then it’s mine too.”

Her hand reached out, hesitant for only a breath before resting lightly on his arm.“ “I don’t want you to go through this alone… I want you to be free too.” Her smile turned a little sad, her thumb brushing against the fabric of his sleeve. “And if I can help make that happen, I will.”

She let her hand fall away, glancing at the books again to collect herself. Her heart was beating too fast.

With a deep breath, she straightened and forced her usual playful grin back onto her face.“ “Now, no more of this ‘if you want to take it back’ nonsense. You’re stuck with me.” She grinned at him with a soft shrug.

“Then I guess I should tell you all of it.” Callum took a breath. Ari’s shoulders relaxed as her eyes focused on him, nodding as she listened closely.

“I’ve been helping Riona try and look for proof of the things Edin and Alibeth have done. Crimes not even a royal could get away with; they slaughtered a whole town, children and all. Covered it up. I’m sure that’s not the only secret they want kept buried. And I intend to drag all their secrets out for the people to see, see their monarchs for the twisted wretched things they are and turn against them.” He began, passion and hatred creeping into his voice with equal measure.

“But it’s not just Edin and Alibeth; the rest of the nobles, too. Strip away titles and power passed through corrupted bloodlines. That’s what freedom looks like for me. A Caesonia where everyone is free, where we are all on equal footing. I’ve already started working with a rebel group in the city to help with this.” He wouldn’t name a single rebel, only added that they called themselves Thornbreakers and that he trusted their goals. Ari nodded along softly in understanding.

“And I want a Caesonia where magic isn’t locked away and witches aren’t punished for it. I want to use magic to make a better world.” Cal paused and smiled at that distant dream that was just beginning to feel closer each day. Ari’s expression matched his own at the idea.

“Alibeth has mentioned magic as a threat at our last family meeting. She’s going to act on that, it’s only a matter of when. So I’m forming a coven: you, me, Riona, Roman, possibly Mina; those I know we can trust. We’ll have to look out for each other, work together, and keep other witches safe.” He continued, a grandiose list of plans and his first steps to bring those to fruition.

“It goes beyond hating my parents, Ari. Beyond just wishing them dead, I will make it happen and ensure that they suffer beyond what they can even imagine. And I’m talking about rebellion and treason, and if you want that too, then there’s nothing I want more than to have you stand by my side in this.” He reached for her hands as Ari’s eyes fell to his hands he pulled her closer, eyes meeting and facing each other only a breath apart.

“You're a force of nature, Ari, powerful and untamable. And once we get all your memories back, I think that will only be even more true. I’m not stuck with you, I’m grateful you’re here.” Callum whispered.

Ariella felt her pulse quicken, her breath catching in the space between them. His words stirred something in her—a storm brewing just beneath her skin, a pull toward the chaos he promised. Treason. Rebellion. Vengeance. It was intoxicating.

She smiled, feeling her heart pound in her chest as if attempting to break out. She attempted to speak but struggled aware of just how close he had pulled her. She took a soft breath, her fingers playfully brushing against his as she held his hands in a gentle embrace. The warmth of his skin felt comforting against her own, and she couldn’t help but smile. Each delicate touch made her heart dance with excitement.

Her eyes locked with his. “I’m grateful that you’re here too...” she whispered softly “We will give them something to actually fear...” her voice was soft as if a secret was being shared between the two of them.

Callum’s heart pounded. You get it. He looked into Ari’s bright eyes.
Fear. Yes, that was exactly what he wanted. Not useless, not a random unneeded spare, not a joke - feared by his enemies.

He could picture it. Both of them, alive with mystical power like no one in this city had seen before. Not in ages. Magic used to its full potential. Kings and Duchesses would hold no sway over them. Their enemies brought to utter ruin. They’d remake Sorian into something better.

And he would not be a king. She would not be a queen. Their title would be simple, equal, better - witch.

United. Indivisible. Unstoppable.

A force of nature. A force of vengeance. A fire that could not be doused.

“Sometimes I won’t be me, though. Sometimes, Clarence will be me. We’ve agreed on possession as part of my pact with the familiar.”

Ari nodded gently, the motion subtle but full of understanding. A soft, serene smile lingered on her lips as she squeezed Callum’s hand—a gesture of quiet reassurance.

“We will get what we want. I’m sure of it.”

And that was exactly what he wanted to hear. What he needed to hear. No siren could sing a sweeter sound than the resolve that settled from Ari’s words. The warmth of that sentiment replaced any doubt; she believed they would succeed, and he believed anything that voice said to him.

Her voice was calm, but beneath the calm was a flicker of something darker—an ember of vengeance glowing quietly behind her gentle expression. For a moment, the idea of her mother finally facing the consequences she so richly deserved painted a shadow across Ari’s face, though it remained hidden beneath the veil of her composed smile.

“I wanted to show you something I’ve been practicing,” she added, her smile deepening, now laced with a quiet excitement. A knowing glint sparked in her eyes, chasing away the earlier darkness like dawn chasing shadows. Whatever weight had pressed on her seemed to lift, replaced only by the lightness of anticipation.

They stood close as they bridged the last of the distance between them. Their truths had been spoken, laid bare between them without judgment or fear. There was only acceptance now, a fragile but growing trust.

Callum remained enchanted, transfixed by the soft lighting and her closeness to him. He watched shadows flicker and fade behind her eyes. Watched a fire spark and spread from her eyes to her smile. It echoed how he always felt.

Ari let go of Callum’s hands with a delicate motion, her fingertips trailing from his palms like mist dissolving in the morning sun. Then, slowly—almost reverently—her hands rose, hovering on either side of his face with a haunting grace. Her green eyes met his, unwavering, the dappled sunlight breaking through the canopy above them catching the gold flecks in her irises, making them seem to shimmer with unearthly energy.

Her heart fluttering like a caged bird within her chest. Her hands still didn’t touch him, but he would feel it—an invisible pressure, gentle and radiant—like sunlight kissing his skin after a long, cold winter. Her fingers moved in a slow, wave-like pattern, the feeling of rippling warmth against him. The magic was soft, natural, and warm, like being cradled in the glow of something.

The soft touch of her fingertips glided from his hands. His face flushed from her warmth as her hands cradled the air around his face. A fleeting moment that was equal parts innocent and intimate. Perfection.

Her eyes; the only thing worth looking at.

Her warmth; the only thing worth feeling.

“Trust me…Close your eyes” she whispered.

Callum obeyed.

As his eyes shut, her hands traced the outline of his neck with featherlight precision, gliding over his shoulders, slow and reverent. Then, with purpose, she brought her hands back to his—interlacing their fingers. A jolt of energy sparked at every point of contact, like static laced electricity being exchanged. Their magic reached for one another like two halves of a whole, finally meeting.

As her skin sparked against his, Callum held her hands tighter. Everything felt more alive, more aware.

“Volant…” she breathed, the word slipping from her lips like a prayer.

And then—it happened.

A sudden rush of weightlessness swept over them both. Ari’s grip tightened instinctively as her feet lifted from the earth, heart hammering with exhilaration. “Now open”

Again, he obeyed. Callum smiled at her before his eyes opened.

She smiled brightly as she looked around at her magic at work. She had done this spell a few times on herself unsure if she could with another. Seeing and feeling the magic around them she giggled excitedly. The quiet sound of her laugh widened his grin. Her joy was as electric as her touch had been.

Leaves and wildflowers were torn gently from the ground, caught in a swirl of wind that wasn’t there a moment ago. They spiraled upward, twirling like petals in a dance, decorating the air at their feet before slowly drifting back down like nature itself had bowed to their magic. Their bodies began to rise, slowly rotating in a graceful spiral, suspended in the still air. The earth fell away beneath them. The feeling of weightlessness washing over them like a dream. It felt like a small taste of freedom. it was everything untethered.

They floated a few feet above the ground, Ari had been using this spell more frequently as it helped her feel that sense of freedom she so desired. Excited to share that glimmer with Cal.

He breathed in the scent of the forest; every earthy, floral, and sweet note in the air only made him think of Ari. Everything swirled around them as nature embraced them, and magic hung like static in the air. It was a rush -- the weightless feeling, the perfection of the moment, the closeness. It was the spell or the sensation of floating that made him lightheaded and dizzy.

And it was too flawless a moment to let it pass without action.

Callum leaned forward, and they floated so close that the movement was barely noticeable. His head tilted slightly, and he lingered in moment before the lips met, just long enough for her to turn away if she wanted. However, she didn’t move infact she felt herself frozen in that moment as she felt her breath catch in her throat with anticipation. Her lips parted as if to speak but then he kissed her. As soft as the moment they shared was, as light as the wind around them, and with that same current of electricity running through them. She melted into it. Leaned in with the same gentle reverence, her magic sparking warmly where their fingers still touched.

And that’s when it happened.

A sudden gust of wind shot up beneath them—her magic surging wildly, uncontrolled. The balance slipped.

Oh no
Incredible!

Suddenly, they crashed to the ground, landing in a soft bed of grass in a tangled mess of limbs and laughter. Ari blinked, dazed, only to realize she was wrapped up against Callum—his arm beneath her, her leg draped over his. The warmth of him, the brush of his chest rising and falling, sent her already fluttering heart into another flurry. Callum’s arms wrapped around Ari for another moment, clinging to what they had just shared. It was too perfect to let it all go; the floating, the falling, the crashing…all of it. He just needed it to linger for a second longer. Her large green eyes looked at him sitting in the moment with him as neither seemed to want to let go. A giggle escaped her lips. Cal let go; he pulled a leaf from her hair and let it float away.

A bright, startled sound that quickly turned into full, bubbling laughter erupted from her as their situation set in. Callum’s laughter followed, a light and carefree sound that poured out. Paired with an easy smile and weightlessness that stayed with him long after the two of them had crashed to the ground.

“Whoops,” she managed between breathless chuckles.

Still laughing, she tried to untangle herself, though the attempt was anything but graceful. Her fiery red hair, glowing like a flame in the dappled sunlight, was now a wild halo around her—leaves and petals tangled like nature itself had crowned her in the aftermath. With a soft puff of air, she blew a strand from her face and began brushing herself off, bits of grass clinging to her dress. Cal stood back up, his footing awkward and off balance, as he shook some leaves and dirt from his hair. Ari attempted to help him, brushing a few errant petals from his shoulder with a sheepish little smile before settling back on her heels.

“Are you alright?” she asked, voice softer now, concern peeking through her flushed cheeks. “I got a little distracted.” They may have fallen to the ground but Ari still felt like she was floating.

“Alright? Ari, that was incredible. Floating like that…wow, just wow. Sorry, for being the distraction. It just felt like one of those perfect moments, like in a book.” Her eyes softened as a smile still painted her lips. “Never apologise for that” she said softly “That was a welcomed distraction..”

<Ridiculous,> somehow the familiar managed to make its voice sound like an eyeroll. The bored monkey entertained itself by attempting to lick residue magic from the locked box.

“Next time I’ll make sure our feet are both on solid ground.” He promised with a sheepish grin. ..Next time She smiled brightly.

“Solid ground sounds safer,” she whispered, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly. “But I wouldn’t mind… another moment like that. Even if we fall agian” she brushed off the last of the dirt from her dress, her eyes catching his familiar licking the locked box that say on the rock. ”what is he doing?”

“Looking for crumbs of magicae to eat.” Callum, despite knowing that his familiar knew every word he said, chose to whisper anyway. “Always hungry. But, at least he’s behaving.” As much as Callum wanted to believe it was due to his familiar learning, adapting to be more like the kind of help Cal wanted, he wasn’t foolish enough to fully believe that.

He could feel it, even without the familiar’s voice whispering into his head, a curiosity as insatiable as the creature’s hunger. A locked box that even Clarence, with all his ancient power and experience, couldn’t open. Callum felt how maddening it was; the feeling rolled off the monkey and settled into Cal’s bones.

“He hates it. That he can’t open that box. That whatever’s in there is closed off from him. At least for now.” The understanding settled in Callum, and the monkey flung the box at a nearby tree without a shred of hope that it would shatter and reveal its contents.
“Guess we'd better figure this thing out before he eats that box.” He added, and glanced at the stack of journals Ari had set out.

Ari frowned as she watched the box bounce of the tree and land on the ground. ”He is resourceful i’ll give him that…” she smiled.

“Did you want help in looking through those, or would you prefer to keep them private?”

”I have nothing to hide from you” she said simply looking back at him with a smile ”I would really love the support if im honest” she looked back towards the books with a concerned expression ”I’m a little afraid to find out whats in them…”

“Not to brag but I’m pretty good at reading.” He smiled back. “And whatever’s in them, you’re still going to have me and my weird monkey friend, watching your back.” Cal reassured.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Lord Leo Smithwood

---

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Interactions: Killian @Oso
Mentions: Wulfric
Attire: “Why was I not told red was the color for tonight?”


“You see, it was my very mother who showed me magic. Yes, showed it to me, not only told me about it,”
Leo watched wide-eyed and stunned as Wulfric stood behind the Queen, and cold as ice outed the woman as a witch. He would’ve never believed it had he not witnessed it with his very eyes; Wulfric turning on his mother.

“She uttered a word, and changed a tablecloth from white to yellow. That is how, a few days ago, I learned of the existence of magic.”

The prince dug his mother’s grave. Or built her pyre as the law might have it. He was so thorough that he shared the exact spell he’d seen her use.

“So, you see, I have to question: Are you knowingly and willingly working for a witch, hunter?”

He goaded the witch hunters into sending the Queen to that very pyre.

“Or is it that you cannot reliably determine who is a witch and who is not?”

He did it publicly. Left King Edin no choice but to order Queen Alibeth’s immediate arrest.

As another man, a Duke whose name Leo could never quite remember and who he never cared for, stood up and began to spout off the second most delusional sermon Leo had ever heard. The first, of course being the one from Edin’s strange ceremony.

He stared at his unfinished meal, and occasionally at the remaining sip of wine in his glass, and wondered how Wulfric could do such a thing. Betraying his own family like that, it seemed the antithesis of the man he thought the Crown Prince to be; one truly noble of spirit.

Leo wondered if he could ever do that to his mother. Over changing the color of a tablecloth?

No. No, not for that, but if he found out she had played a part in his father’s death and hid the truth from him? Leo would turn on her. He’d have no other choice and he’d damn well make sure she never breathed free air again.

Alibeth had just changed the color of a tablecloth. She’d willingly dabbled into something dark, a perversion of the natural order of the world; into magic. There was a good reason it was illegal, why the punishment was death by fire, and it was on the same level, if not worse, than murder. A threat to order and to the safety of the kingdom.

Wulfric had made a sacrifice to ensure his kingdom did not continue to be plagued by witchcraft. Leo could only admire that devotion to duty and the strength to never waiver from one’s convictions.

“How does one become a witch hunter?” He turned and asked Killian.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Attire: Winners wear red & black!
Interactions: Ari @Tpartywithzombi, Gideon@princess, Wulfric @SilverPaw

---

As they reentered the dining hall, Clarence’s composure slipped for a rare moment. He watched guards walk the Queen from the hall and could only wonder what he’d missed. Something big. Something important.

And what had he gained for his loss? A brief and meaningless conversation with mortals, only one of which actually mattered to him.

Ariella insisted on gripping his arms and looking around like prey surrounded by a pack of wolves. It was disgraceful. Insulting. To enter a room, at his side, as his ally, and fear other mortals. Had he not just told her these hunters were nothing to fear? When their eyes next met she would find only disappointment in his gaze.

“To fear them is beneath you.” Clarence leaned in and hissed his words into her ear. “Unleash your full potential and no mortal in this room could ever threaten you. And until then, I keep the beasts from your door. To fear them, is to insult me.” He warned as his hand patted her back as he mimicked a reassuring gesture with a face that matched the movement.

“Are you two ready to go home? I'm rather convinced your mother has been sitting in the carriage this entire time—likely reciting a list of things I did wrong tonight.”

Clarence broke away from Ari’s grasp as Gideon suggested to both his children that it was time for them to go. “A wise suggestion, Duke Edwards, and I must apologize. I fear my family's drama has ruined dinner tonight.” Clarence, his voice soft and respectful, nodded his head to Duke Gideon.

With his goodbye’s said Clarence returned to his proper seat, but lingered just near Wulfric long enough to whisper a single question. “Have all my wildest dreams come true? Was that Alibeth getting arrested?” Every bit of Callum’s sarcasm and delight dripped from Clarence’s words. It was too easy to mimic that one; he couldn’t think of a better twist for the ending of the feast. And how delicious it was that Callum had missed out on seeing it, robbed of the satisfaction of seeing the very moment the tables turned for the Queen. Robbed of even having the memory of it for later viewing.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that Clarence had missed the event after all. He leaned back in his chair and continued to enjoy what was left of his food. The only other creature as relaxed and unbothered in the room was perhaps the large wolf that rested comfortably near the feet of the witch hunter.