Time: Evening Location: Masquerade Ball: Damien Estate Mentions: Charlotte @princess, Ryn @JJ Doe, and Nahir @Rodiak Daily Misfortune: An annoyingly high-pitched voice and random fits of laughter. Predictable Costume: Leo the Lion
"I h-have, well, uh, a quick question for Count Fritz about his findingsâŚâ
Alone? Leo wondered. Hadnât they all agreed to work on this together? And Leo had plenty worth discussing with Hendrix around as well.
But it was clear Lottie didnât want him to tag along as she attempted to distract him.
I think the girl you like is just over yonder by the way if you wanna say hello, otherwise, I'll be back in a moment."
Leoâs head momentarily turned over yonder. Nahir was unmistakable, few made perfection appear so effortless, like the lion that had accompanied Mayet, Nahir brought beauty and danger in equal measure. But he had to wonder if Lorenzoâs influence had affected Charlotte. What if the laughing came back? There was no way he would risk laughing in any royalâs face, much less one from Alidasht.
So Leo stood there, slightly annoyed, as Charlotte headed off without him. Hendrix was far too secretive to be trusted, Leo hadnât heard a thing about what the Varian count had uncovered since their meeting at Charlotteâs house. Not that Leo had sought Hendrix out either but there was now a whole trove of information to be shared following the morning tea party. A few laps around the room should be an adequate amount of time for Lottie and Hendrix to discuss what they needed, and then Leo would interrupt. That seemed reasonably polite and no reason to completely waste an opportunity to have a chat about strange goings-on.
Time: Evening Location: Gaurav Village: Phiaâs Room Interactions: Viola@13org, Menzai@samreaper Equipment: A pack with some supplies, seeds (in his pockets), a small knife, a mask that hangs from his belt, a weapon with a shifting charm that is either a sickle or a glaive, and a shield/drum with an unbreakable charm.
Frustrating; it was a good word for the bittersweet reunion. Of course, it was wonderful to know Ophelia lived, had found a place that welcomed and loved her, and was kept safe from so much of the pain that existed outside the secluded village. But it hurt to be forgotten, a pain that must be so sharp for Viola who was left forgotten by all that knew her during her imprisonment. Even if Phiaâs life was not as idyllic as it appeared, she was not alone. In his suffering, Cyrus had not been alone. But Viola had suffered alone. Although Cyrus glanced in Menzaiâs direction when Viola mentioned an intruder, he did not yet acknowledge the wolf, Viola got his undivided attention.
âI do not believe she chose to forget, but that does not make it hurt any less, does it?â Cyrus spoke once Viola had finished, a question that needed no answer, as his eyes fixed upon the twin moons above them. There was a great deal of suffering, but no true culprit for it here. Phia and her fractured mind were not the true cause of it, only symptoms of horrors inflicted by the Dark Elves. Something deeply buried flared and burned as he thought of the children of Halastra and what they had done to his family. His hand rested upon the mask that dangled from his belt until the feeling was again buried. Then he again looked only at his sister.
âFew have suffered as you have suffered, and fewer still could carry it with your strength and grace. I would have wilted had I been in your place. I faltered and stumbled along my path, a fate far kinder than yours. Though you never left my mind, I did not take action for you either, and that is worse. For my part in your fate, I have only shame to carry and a humbled offering of sorrow. And I am sorry Viola, for how deep your pain runs and my part in that. You deserved better.â He spoke as if Menzai did not lurk in the shadows, words Cyrus knew he shouldâve said before now. Few things were harder to give voice to than guilt and shame, and what was more shameful than how little effort he had put forth to locate his siblings before now?
âIf your thoughts are hard to ignore, then explore them. They ask for your attention, they will not settle without it. I will always listen, you will never be judged by me.â
Cyrus then turned to greet Menzai with a respectful bow. Where Viola might understandably see this wolf as a stranger, an intruder on a family discussion, Cyrus saw Menzai in a different light. This wolf threw himself to the mercy of the indifferent hands of fate simply to protect Phia. The wolf lost an arm but very well couldâve lost his life. Menzai protected Phia like family, and so now the wolf was as dear, and as trusted, as family.
âNoble wolf, you have my deepest gratitude for all you have done for our sister, Ophelia. You know who she is, the crest she wears even if she has forgotten where it came from. Our secrecy is an unfortunate necessity, our family name is dangerous to speak of; many wish us dead. Many have tried. I do not wish to continue hiding the truth from Phia but I believe you now know her better than we do, so I request your guidance. Do we tell Phia who we are, who she is, and possibly bring her pain? Or leave her in ignorance and spare her the pain of knowing what happened to her family?â If anyone could best predict how Phia would react, it was the wolf before then, and Cyrus knew he could trust that Menzai held Phiaâs best interests above all else.
Time: Evening Location: Flying above The Righteous Tern Interactions: Rue@Potter Equipment:Sword, hunting knife, a backpack with supplies, and a stoat named Raze who naps in the pocket of his vest.
For the first time since his wings were severed Bowyn flew. Not of his own accord, but upon the back of the pegasus Starfire. He kept a carefree grip on the horse; a fear of falling was such an unnatural instinct for his kind when flying was learned alongside walking. The Fae were creatures of both the earth and sky. The earth provided for them, it offered stability, but it was the skies that offered freedom and the clarity of fresh perspective. The ability to soar high above the earthâs problems, to look down from such heights and see how small everything was by comparison, always able to see the bigger picture.
That was what had been stolen from Bowyn, more than just wings, but limitless freedom, a loftier perspective, and to never fear falling for fairies were gifted with wings they could always trust. It was a loss that could never be fully explained to creatures born only for the earth, what it was to lose access to the skies. Even to soar with the aid of a pegasus was a cold reminder that this was not a part of Bowynâs world any longer.
Still, he was grateful for a small taste of what he once had; to see the vastness of the sea stretch out and the ship shrink away below them. To share the skies for a moment with Rue and the mighty pegasus away from strange faces. Although the ship Luum had picked out was about as nice as a boat could be, it was still far from the ideal place for either winter fairy or the horse. Bowyn got the sense that Starfire greatly appreciated the chance to fly free, the winged creature needed to fly as much as she needed to run, and above the sea at least drew less attention than a crowded city.
âThanks, Rue, this is much better than trapped aboard that ship. Bardulf did well for his first encounter with an owlbear. Although Luumâs training method, if you can call it training, hold back and hope the human figures things out, itâs concerning.â Bowyn focused his attention on Rue, there was no need to guide the pegasus who followed Rue naturally with no need for correction.
Time: Night Location: Edge of Loverâs Lake-Roman Ceremony Interactions: Ari@Tpartywithzombi
As the ritual continued the strange brew Callum had drunk began to take hold. The fire danced in ways heâd never seen before. Not just the fire, slowly everything started to move in subtle ways, nothing was stagnant, and things that were moving maintained ghostly trails behind them. A wide smile spread over his face, everything felt lighter, and there were no burdens, only awe.
He walked around, a clumsiness to his gait, half listening to what was going on while becoming more and more unfocused. He did not want to stand still, so he walked in widening circles around the fire, each lap bringing him further away from the ritual. He did not want to be a disturbance and no longer knew what was happening in the ritual.
If the tea he drank was intended to make him see, then wandering around looking at things seemed fitting. He saw the nightâs sky contain more splendor than it ever had before, he saw the branches of the trees sway as if they wished to dance around the fire, and he saw a cloaked figure fall to the ground.
âHoo?â A voice from above asked.
âGood question.â Callum also wondered who it was. He headed in the direction of the cloaked figure as he heard the odd voice again. "Hoo?"
Cal up and all around until the looking began to make his head spin but his eyes landed on the source of the voice. His eyes met inky black ones, darker and deeper than the night sky, contrasted by plumage of warm browns and brilliant white spots.
Is that owl watching me? He stopped walking and stared intently at an owl perched upon a tree, its swirling feathers holding his attention for a long while. The owl cried out its constant question, "Hoo?".
âCallum.â He answered pointing to himself. The owl did not give its name, it only flew off, as if unappeased by Calâs answer. âOh, well, goodbye.â
What was I doing? He looked around, confused but content with his confusion.
He saw the cloaked figure lying down several feet away. Oh yeah. He meant to walk over there and then looked down at the grass. Wow! Did grass always look like that? It's so green. Callum paused and knelt in the grass and it was so much softer than he remembered it being. He giggled, like a crazy person, touching the grass as if he were petting a strange new creature. Soon he too lay in the grass and looked up at the trees and the stars, not moving for a while as he heard the songs and chanting from Romanâs ritual in the distance.
Then he remembered he was supposed to be watching the ritual but couldnât quite find the will to get back up and go over there. There was more tree watching, the bark patterns flowed like water, moving, breathing, alive. They did not always look like that, he was almost certain.
The Bonfire! He did not want to stare at trees all night, he wanted to watch the pretty fire again.
Callum got back up and for the third time remembered the cloaked figure and his desire to see what they were doing. Finally, he made his way over there.
âAri?â His surprise made her name sound like a question. âYouâre here!â He went to show her his red cup but it wasnât in his hand, he hadn't had it for a while now, and he couldnât remember what happened to it. âI drank the weirdest tea and now everything is so pretty. You gotta try it!â
He decided he wanted to sit on the ground, as standing over someone felt awkward, but less than gracefully chose to just drop into a sitting position with a thump. He laughed at this for a bit too long. âOh! And I just saw an owl, but it flew away.â Cal incorrectly pointed in the direction he'd seen the owl, and crossed his thumbs as he used his hands to mimic a flying bird.
Time: Evening Location: Gaurav Village: Phiaâs Room Interactions: Viola@13org Mentions: Phia@princess Equipment: A pack with some supplies, seeds (in his pockets), a small knife, a mask that hangs from his belt, a weapon with a shifting charm that is either a sickle or a glaive, and a shield/drum with an unbreakable charm.
The swing of a door set off a symphony of wind chimes as light danced through suspended crystals and fireflies flew about as if this were a nightclub built just for them. Or perhaps it was a museum; even more small critters scurried about in jarred habitats carefully dangling from above and every surface was filled with bones, rocks, gems, and geodes. Flowers and foliage grew in through every crack in wooden walls and floorboards, further filling the room with the scents and sounds of the earth.
A room of carefully organized chaos, everything placed in a manner that showed off each itemâs beauty. To look around in here was to find oneâs eye drawn all about the room with every piece of her collection offering insights into who Phia was now. Someone who welcomed the natural world into her space, who cared for small creatures, who found beauty in simple things; someone not so different from the Ophelia he remembered. A room filled with life just as Ophelia had always been. A room that collected the bones of the dead, someone who does not need the world's darkness kept hidden from them, an embrace of all aspects of nature.
Phiaâs room was an eclectic array of wonders, and so Cyrus took his time studying each small wonder after Phia left. He too wished to speak with Menzai but now was not the time for difficult conversations with the injured wolf. Nor was it the time to converse with Viola about the dayâs difficulties, not only because insects could never quite be trusted to keep secrets but Viola too seemed in need of the quiet. Sunny became the proud recipient of many head pats and ear scratches as Cyrus attempted to calm his nervous energy.
Soon the sunlight that danced through the window was replaced by moonlight, and even as the swinging chair gently rocked him beneath the glow of fireflies, sleep was not granted. The weight of holding a secret bore down and left a hollow nagging feeling in him. His thoughts drifted to childhood nights spent in a treehouse surrounded by his siblings, a time when there was little distance at all between any of them. Violaâs request for a walk was a welcomed reprieve from the wallowing.
âI donât like keeping this secret. It feels like lying.â Cyrus quietly admitted to Viola once they were outside.
Time: Evening Location: Masquerade Ball: Damien Estate Interactions: Charlotte @princess Daily Misfortune: An annoyingly high-pitched voice and random fits of laughter. Predictable Costume: Leo the Lion
âMy voice? Sometime this morning, hardly worth worrying about, like any cold Iâm sure itâs due to pass soon enough.â The sooner the better. Leo wasnât entirely sure if he was attempting to convince Charlotte or himself that his symptoms would clear up soon. And what if it doesnât? The worry slithered about. What if itâs permanent? These were useless thoughts, it wouldnât matter, if it didnât resolve on its own he would just find some way to fix it, he was not without means.
He watched as Count Damien strutted about, making an entirely ridiculous display meant to intimidate. It did not work on Leo who found himself wishing the man could pause the dramatics and instead walk a little faster. But Calbert did not, in fact he only slowed his pace and flashed a sneer their way. Leo rolled his eyes,
âSee, the Count is a coward, show him no fear and he turns the other way, off to attempt to intimidate some lesser noble no doubt. But we are not lesser nobles are we?â Leo whispered, grinning, as he watched Calbert disappear into the crowd. The Count drew further away from earshot and Leo felt the only thing left to do was alleviate the tension Calbert had tried so hard to build.
âIâm surprised he even has the guts to parade himself about; Mr. Family man, canât keep his home safe, heâs got some bastard running around town, and have you seen Lady Violet recently? Absolutely ghoulish and -â He glanced at Charlotte who was no longer seemed present, her eyes held an odd distant look as her hand reached for something unseen.
âCharlotte?â She couldnât really be this bothered by Calbert, could she? âNow I am concerned, are you alright?â
Time: Night Location: Edge of Loverâs Lake-Roman Ceremony Interactions:
Callum arrived dressed as a shadow, having combed through his closet for dark clothing devoid of royal ornament. Intentional, because as much as he wanted to spend the night only sharing in and celebrating Romanâs customs, he needed to use tonight to search for the secrets hidden in the shadows of his home. The forest, covered in darkness, would provide cover and the majority of attention would now lay on the Damien estate. No better night to search for dark and twisted secrets to drag into the light and watch them writhe from the exposure.
In the moments before the ceremony began, he walked, followed closely by guards who hung about like preying hawks, and tried to see all the things Ari saw when she looked at the forests. He even removed his shoes and left them somewhere that would quickly be forgotten, as it seemed many here had foregone footwear for the celebration.
The attempt only morphed, as shadows cast by trees swayed and danced beneath moonlight, he only looked for the best routes of escape. A plan slowly etched its way into his mind as any attempt to find enjoyment vanished.
Soon Roman, clad in a kilt and adorned with the bones of a bear, stood high above the rest as the rules for the night were relayed. He listened and he scanned the crowd that surrounded Roman. Ana was here, and Cal took care to avoid her, not out of lingering animosity but why repair a bridge he would one day need to burn? He kept his head turned away from her; better to not have to talk, to not have to feel the burden of an unvoiced apology, and to let that connection die off naturally.
As Roman and Mina prepared for the ceremony, Callum inevitably found himself holding a red cup offered by the Varian Shaman. Of course, he wanted to see, he wanted to experience as much of this as he could and there wasnât a drink Cal wouldnât try at least once.
Laughter rang out in bursts, clear and sharp. He kept to himself, stayed inside his head; a better option than to risk ruining the good time of others with everything that lived inside his head with him.
A fire ragged, its warmth full and bright. Callum drank of an earthy brew that unsettled his stomach even more than what he was used to. He watched people, from all walks of life, come together as equals and wished he could feel hope in seeing it happen even if for a night.
Roman and the Shaman began a chant, conveying something beautiful that lingered just beyond his understanding but close enough to appreciate, with the simplest of words.
Time: Morning Location: Southwest of Roshmi City Interactions: Rue@Potter, Bardulf@Lava Alckon, Bridgette@Tae, Mister Luum@FunnyGuy, and Zeva@Pink Khione Equipment:Sword, hunting knife, a backpack with supplies, and a stoat named Raze who naps in the pocket of his vest.
For a brief moment, everything settled into peace as the group sat around and enjoyed their snacks. While they were all quiet, Rueâs silence held a more somber tone, devoid of even the sound of honeyed toast being enjoyed. Bowynâs eyes followed Rueâs, catching sight of the same group of dark elves. Their laughter echoed around, destroying the peace with the same ease dark elves destroyed everything around them. It sounded no different from the laughter they unleashed as they killed and maimed and tortured.
The enemy, weapons outlined beneath their clothes. Bowynâs posture became unyielding, his focus on them was sharp and cold.
The enemy, the source of his pain, Rueâs pain, Avaliaâs pain. And they laughed.
The enemy, walking away, allowed to go about their lives, to continue laughing. He exhaled a long cold breath that fogged against Roshmiâs warm air.
His attention snapped back to Rue as she turned and looked at him with a smile. His expression softened but he could not return the smile. Instead, he just put one arm around Rue until Luum and Bridgette joined them and managed to lighten the mood.
Somehow Mister Luum managed not to choke on the damn-near entire piece of honeyed toast he shoved into his mouth. Unfortunately, not even food could prevent Luum from continuing his nonsense. The Luumineerâs? Bowyn snorted and rolled his eyes as the elf continued yammering on. Once Luum finished answering his own long string of questions, which Bowyn suspected was really just an excuse for the elf to talk about his favorite subject, Bardulf surprisingly volunteered to answer them as well. Forced group bonding; great.
âFavorite color? Also blue.â He looked at Rue, âLike your eyes.â A faint smile returned. âSexual preferences and kinks?â He looked at Luum for a second and shrugged. âNone that would involve you.â He thought over the rest of Luumâs random string of questions. âI like hunting as well, fishing too,â he looked at Bardulf with a nod. âAnd my home, the smell of the forest, the crunch of snow, looking out and seeing the vastness of it all. I dislike those who are unkind to stoats, guess thatâs also a pet peeve.â He shot a glance at Zeva, but he said more as a light jab than a condemnation.
Bowyn paused to think about the other questions Luum had tossed around. Fears and beliefs sat unanswered and he wasnât going to offer up anything that could be too easily used against him, only the shared fear that he imagined anyone who wanted to stand against the dark elves shared. âI fear that without decisive action our shared threat will continue to spread ruin through Avalia until there is nothing left worth saving and I believe thereâs only one sure way to prevent that. Thatâs my life goal; make sure no future generations have to deal with the dark and malevolent creatures we deal with now.â Having answered Luumâs questions, Bowyn took a large bit of honey toast as Raze climbed down from the fairyâs shoulder and inspected the food on the table. The stoat quickly scarfed down a handful of greedy bites from a piece of toast, chewing it in a manner that showed his disapproval of the snack.
âWant better food.â Beedy eyes stared at Bowyn as if the fairy kept a pocket full of dead mice on the chance that Bowynâs food wasnât stoat approved.
Debts owed. As Bowyn stared back at the stoat he realized heâd forgotten a question. He owed his freedom to the always hungry stoat whoâd helped him escape a dark elf prison but he wasnât going to volunteer that either. Heâd have to find a stall that sold roasted rabbit or something for the little guy after they were done here.
âOh debts owed. Thatâs a funny one, officially one could say I still owe a debt to society but since I donât acknowledge the false king, I donât think that counts.â He added.
âHow âbout you Ears? Your lifeâs purpose really just to buy some new knives and have an adventure?â He asked Zeva.
Time: Evening Location: Masquerade Ball: Damien Estate Interactions: Charlotte @princess Daily Misfortune: An annoyingly high-pitched voice and random fits of laughter. Predictable Costume: Leo the Lion
Whatever it was Charlotte was going to express her concerns about was lost amidst the uncontrollable giggling. Dozens of eyes from masked faces bore down on them, the heat of their collective gaze as unrelenting as the summer sun. That heat only intensified as more heads turned and Leoâs laughter only grew louder. Calculated and precise footsteps drew nearer as Charlotteâs face turned from one softened with concern to a look of true dread. The odd expression quickly vanished as she grabbed his arm and laughed along with him.
Oh no! Is this contagious?
"Oh I still cannot believe you ate that WEEK OLD CHEESE to impress those girls! Hahaha!"
A truly perplexing statement, as Leo had certainly not eaten any old cheese nor was he aware that anyone was impressed by cheese-eating, and doubly so if it involved rotten cheese. As abruptly as a startled person stops hiccuping; a confused Leo stopped giggling.
âWhat? Cheese? Why would that-â He again noticed the stares and the approach of a disgruntled-looking Count Damien. Not only was he making an embarrassing scene, he had managed to attract the attention of Charlotteâs least favorite count and she was now trying to pull him away from Calbertâs path. âOh right, yes, I proved both my daring and iron stomach.â He added, loudly enough for onlookers to overhear.
Although the mask hid it well, Leo felt the warmth of embarrassment rising, reddening his face. He kept his feet planted, he would not be hiding from Count Damien, it wasnât like heâd broken any Caesonian laws by laughing at a party.
âWhatâs he going to do, kick me out of his party? Iâll buy a different mask and be back within the hour.â He dared a quick glance at Calbert whose path seemed set on crossing his. âIf youâd rather talk with a different count I believe I spotted Hendrix somewhere over there.â He nodded in the direction heâd last seen Fritz. âAnd Iâd be more than happy to ensure Calbert gives you no trouble tonight.â
It occurred to Leo that not only was his face hidden behind a mask but his voice was obscured as well. Hidden behind the lion maskâs muzzle was a smirk of mischievous intent. How well did Calbert even know Leo, even remember him? Perhaps a masquerade paired with a dreadful not-quite-a-cold meant the unforeseen benefit of anonymity.
Time: Evening Location: Masquerade Ball: Damien Estate Interactions: Charlotte @princess and definitely not Kazu ??? @samreaper Daily Misfortune: An annoyingly high-pitched voice and random fits of laughter. Predictable Costume: Leo the Lion
From beneath the golden visage of the lion mask, a pair of human eyes brightened at the sound of a familiar voice. âWhen walking into a lionâs den, dress accordingly.â A voice that was most unbecoming of a lion mused from beneath the mask.
âCharlotte,â Leo dropped into a graceful bow, as if in the presence of true royalty and not simply an equal dressed as fae royalty. âOr should I say Your Grace, I appear to be in the presence of a fairy queen?â He said it like a question but the wings were enough of a clue for the amateur detective. The unnatural pitch of his voice, a constant source of agitation throughout the day, caused him to pause and clear his throat despite knowing it cured nothing. âI also seem to have picked up an odd cold, maybe an allergy to Sorianâs climate.â He added with a shrug. It was nothing. It would be an awkward and somewhat humorous story in no time. Leo just had to keep reminding himself of that.
Before he could add anything else a servant approached and had the nerve to make an attempt to exchange pleasantries. The compliment toward his slippers was met with an obscured raise of an eyebrow. If a servant approved of his slippers, they were the wrong choice for tonight. Shit, shouldâve tried to squeeze in a shopping trip. Leo mentally kicked himself for the mistake. He said nothing to the servant but took one of the offered glasses of bubbly wine.
âOffly chatty servant.â Leo noted once the man had gone. âDreadful excuse for a mustache too. Here I thought it was only the palace that scrapped up servants from the bottom of the barrel.â He whispered it with a slight chuckle. âAh, and look, now Count Hendrix is chatting up the servant.â There was obvious disapproval in his tone, mismatched with the cartoonishly squeaky voice.
His eyes moved to Count Damien as he entered the masquerade. âSpeaking of mystery, I caught some strange observations at todayâs tea party.â Leo, intended to pause, a comment on the ridiculous glasses Hendrix had taken to wearing caught in his throat, and instead the dreadful uncontrollable giggle fit manifested itself once again. The uproarious fit of laughter from a lion-masked guest quickly followed Count Damienâs entrance.
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