SpicyMeatball

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Mentions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Orion @Qia, Eris @The Muse, Nathaniel @Echotech71}

* * *

“Good morning, Sage.” Katherine replied simply to Eris, watching as she stopped next to Orion by the fire. Her eyes moved to the Prince’s Advisor briefly, before she caught movement at the edge of her vision.

A smile spread across her face as she felt a familiar pair of lips plant a kiss on her cheek, warmth spreading through her face. Katherine took Daphne’s gloved hand in her own, leaning her head against the squire’s tall frame. “I haven’t had a chance to unpack my cookware yet, but I could be convinced if a certain someone deems it necessary.” She grinned playfully, grasping her other hand on Daphne’s upper arm and snuggling in closely.

“I’m happier here too.” Katherine said quietly. It wasn’t a complete lie. Her assignment still lingered in her mind, consistently taking part of her attention away, but she’d been able to bury it slightly after losing herself in work. Otherwise, she was away from Amaya and Kira, the only things in Dawnhaven that reminded her of her past; and she was away from Flynn, who she guessed was already quite suspicious of her presence in the town.

There was still Orion to keep her eyes on, the one who was leading this expedition in the royalty’s stead, and who had likely been briefed on everyone who came along. From the look of it, he was also blightborn, which added a layer of complexity to things. She glanced at him once more as the group stood by the fire, curiosity taking hold as the two hadn’t crossed paths much since leaving Dawnhaven.

A problem for later. Katherine mused to herself, bringing a hand down to straighten out the fur of her coat that concealed her leather armor. She’d held nothing back in preparation for this expedition and was armed about as much as one would expect for a member of the King’s Eye--none of it immediately visible of course. Twin short-swords hung at her hips concealed by the fur of her jacket, and in each of her boots, a dagger was hidden. Anything that wasn’t held at bay with weaponry would be sorted out with magic.

Another partially familiar face appeared by the fire and Katherine nodded to him silently. Sage Stormlight, from what she was able to gather through the crackle of the fire.

“I wonder what’s in store for us on this fine day…” She said quietly to Daphne, letting the sarcasm drip through her words. The weather was miserable--as usual--and as much as she praised Seluna’s constant presence, she missed the warmth of spring and summer.

Katherine found a smirk spreading across her face as Eris spoke about the weather, biting back a witty remark as she reminded herself about what had happened the last time she’d chosen to get snarky with people of importance. “If you need, I have another cloak in my tent should you need it, Sage.” She sent a warm, understanding smile to Eris, “Say the word and it’s yours.”

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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* * *

The absence of the expedition party had done little to change the daily flow of the tavern. Beverages still flowed like water, the music was constant and the patrons ever present. Sure there had been a few changes in the regulars, and some of the guards he’d come to know had been replaced by less familiar faces, but ultimately it was the same Eye.

And in other good news, the bastard of a pirate seemed to have fucked off. At least for now.

Today he’d found himself in the company of a particularly bored looking guardswoman, the new recruit if his memory still served him well. She certainly looked the part; Her armor was shinier than most others’, her shield lay mostly untarnished, and she was definitely young. She’d come in not half an hour prior for a cup of tea and had been sitting in otherwise silence by the fire, slowly waking up by the looks of it.

“May I?” Aldrick gestured to the chair next to the recruit as he paced over, leaning his guitar up against the wall in the process.

Charlotte looked up from the steam wafting from her cup, meeting the blightborn’s golden eyes with her own in slight shock, before nodding her head once and returning her “Knock yourself out.”

A moment of silence stretched between the two, before she looked back towards Aldrick.

“You’re that bard, aren’t you?” Her eyes ran down his features, putting the pieces together slowly. It was tricky at first, given the new color to his complexion and clean shaven face, but the recognition dawned on her quickly. “It is you. You played in our tavern back home, The Last Drop, quite frequently if I recall.

Aldrick smiled and let out a quiet laugh, nodding gently. “The one and only. I remember that tavern well, you must’ve been the lass behind the counter then.” He looked up to the fire in thought, the memories flowing back into his mind. “You were much smaller back then.”

“And you didn’t have horns. Or red skin… or those eyes.”

“Still smart as a whip I see. Aldrick shot her a playful grin, a low chuckle following from behind closed lips.

The fire crackled through the silence between them that stretched for a few short minutes. The Eye was still quite empty at this hour of the morning, not terribly unusual as people went about their days.

“Would you play me something?” Charlotte asked, her voice quivering a bit as her nerves got the best of her.

“What did you have in mind, lass? Somethin’ happy? Sad?”

“No no. Nothing like that. It's too early for happy, and I don’t need sad right now” She paused in silent contemplation, her eyes wandering over Aldrick’s blighted features again, “How about something about the Blight? If that’s not offensive?”

Aldrick didn’t reply for a moment, his eyes fixed on Charlotte’s face as if it would hold an answer. He’d only written one new song since succumbing to the blight, and while it had been shockingly on topic for Charlotte’s request, it wasn’t one he’d ever played for anyone before. It was oddly personal, and perhaps a view on his… condition, that perhaps a few wouldn’t appreciate.

Eventually, he wordlessly nodded to the recruit before leaning to the side and grabbing his guitar from where he’d rested it.

“This is a song of the temptation… and borderline seduction that this plague can bring upon you.”

Song Link

Lyrics

Honey, you should let me in
Shining lights and pretty sins
You hear that song beneath your skin

Darling, you should let 'em go
A seat of gold and petty souls
I'll be here, just let me know

You'd look so good in indigo
Are you afraid of letting go?
You'll come to find they'll say you're perfect as you are

But what's a little more?
Just a little more
Oh
Just a little more

Maybe you should hear me out
Let 'em sow their seeds of doubt
But don't you wait for them to sprout

A hollow king, imprisoned minds
You'd be safe if you were mine
I just wanna see you shine

Can you hear the music now?
Stay with me, just settle down
You know, I think that you're just perfect as you are

What's a little more?
Just a little more
Oh
Just a little more

You know, there's so much more to you
They don't know you like I do
They'd only try to keep you down

I know you could be so much more
Just a little more
You could be so much more
Just a little more

Aldrick’s foot tapped a gentle beat on the wooden floor in time as his fingers strummed and plucked at the strings of his guitar. But there was something different in the tone of his voice. The expected deep tone with a coarse rasp was ever-present, but it was a different energy to his usual, happy and upbeat performances that normally filled these walls. Something about it was more raw, more personal than usual.

^{What’s a little more?}

Everything about it was more personal. This was the very sentiment that played in his mind every day before the very people he performed for. A sickly sweet feeling, knowing that he was feeding from their very emotions but being twisted to believing it was a good thing. A feeling he loved and loathed in the same instant.

^{Just a little more…}

He realized it in an instant. He was feeding on the recruit, the very same woman he’d seen behind the bar all those years ago. And yet he couldn’t help himself. The emotions he was feeling from her were infectious. She’d felt every word he’d sung with shocking accuracy, and yet her mind was completely at peace as she listened. As he ripped every bit of emotion from it.

Enough.

Aldrick played the last few notes of the song as he forced his mind away from Charlotte’s, the sugary taste of it fading from the tip of his tongue. He hated how much he loved how it felt.

Charlotte didn’t know what exactly, but something felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. A wave of fatigue had hit her halfway through the song and had been building since then. She’d been enjoying the song and then just… stopped. Now there was just emptiness, a void where there had previously been… she couldn’t place the word.

“I’m s-sorry. She clutched her head gently and stood from her chair, walking slowly towards the door, her skin paling a bit with every step. “The song was lovely, I’m just feeling unwell. Not sure what’s come over me.”

Aldrick watched her leave the building as a pit grew in his stomach. Normally he would have fed off of a crowd all at once, taking just a little bit from each person. But there had been no crowd, no other person to focus on.

Just the recruit who’d once idolized him.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Mentions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Amaya @c3p-0h, Flynn @The Muse}

* * *

Two Weeks Ago...

Katherine couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh and smile as Daphne spoke. It was clear she’d hit her head pretty hard judging by how her words no longer flowed from her mouth, but drunkenly stumbled instead. The sound of the squire’s voice brought her more relief than she’d expected, and the priestess stood motionless for a moment listening to Daphne ramble on, a smile ever-present on her face.

“I assure you Daphne, I’m quite real.” Katherine replied, unhooking the clasp that held her thick fur cloak together before removing it and laying it at the foot of the bed, “And yes, I did receive your gift. It was delicious, thank you.”

Katherine took a seat near Daphne’s waist, the bed quietly protesting the extra weight. She reached over to the squire’s face and brushed a lock of hair out of the way, her gaze lingering on Daphne’s eyes for a moment before looking down. She found her cheeks warming as Daphne hid beneath the blankets. Sure what the squire had said was a bit forward, but after having lived a life of lies and hidden meanings, it was refreshing to hear a plain and simple truth.

“There’s no need to apologize. And nothing happened at the jail that you need to worry about, your job right now is to rest.” Katherine almost couldn’t believe the doting words that left her mouth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cared for someone quite like this.

The outburst of being Daphne’s girlfriend in front of what was presumably a lot of people had her momentarily worried, not of judgement, but of a certain level of privacy she wanted to keep. For now at least.

A skull mug would be pretty sweet though.

“You might’ve had armor everywhere else, but your head needs a bit more care. Maybe we need to speak to the blacksmith… or the quartermaster--whoever, to get a helmet made for you.” As she spoke, she placed a gentle hand on Daphne’s outstretched hand with a look to her that said I’ve got it before bringing the glass within easy reach.

With a smirk, she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Daphne’s forehead.

“Seems to me like it’s my turn to take care of you.”

* * *

One Week Ago...

In the days leading up to the expedition, Katherine had been relatively unbothered. She’d barely had time to unpack the things she’d brought with her to Dawnhaven by the time her invitation had arrived at the temple. It had only taken a matter of hours to pack everything back up, before she had a chance to really think about the piece of parchment held in her hand now.

An invitation to an expedition into blighted lands, from none other than the very leadership of Dawnhaven that she’d decided to piss off. Signed by the very Prince and Princess she’d disrespected.

“You just had to push the issue didn’t you…” Katherine muttered to herself, an inked quill in hand as she sat at her desk by candlelight, a different piece of parchment now laying before her. An apology letter in the making, intended to mend the damage she’d done in hopes that she could regain the trust of the royalty. It had been a reckless move and one she’d regretted almost immediately after.

Reckless, debatable. Entertaining? Undoubtedly. Katherine’s blood chilled as the sickening voice that had thus far taken its leave, returned. Do you have any idea how much harder this makes my job? How skeptical they are of me now? Stop messing with my head. I have nothing to report, I will contact you when I do.

Oh but you do have something, little shadow. You have revealed something exceedingly interesting.

Katherine didn’t realize it was possible for her blood to run colder than it already felt. That was why it had been so quiet for the last week. They--it, it knew that Kira was still alive. After all these years, their perfect assassin that had been presumed dead was still drawing breath, living the quiet life in Dawnhaven.

Its like I can read your mind.

Enough!

Tut tut, Sorrowind. You forget who you work for. Who owns you. Who can cut the very thread of your life with a single thought. She felt the familiar gentle grasp of an invisible hand on her throat, squeezing just enough to force a gasp from her lungs before it let go. As much as I enjoy our chats, your next assignment awaits. Nightshade lives, and is a liability for the King’s Eye and the kingdom itself. Kill her and report back when it’s done. You know the consequence of failure.

* * *

Present Day.

The words had echoed in her head through the entire eleven days that the group had been on the road. Though the excitement and present company had made distracting herself a lot easier, Katherine still felt out of it. It had taken all of her effort not to break down and vent everything to Daphne along the way.

The squire had been her saving grace. Just knowing that she’d be around at camp and during the expedition had helped ease her mind a bit. Even if Daphne still had a job to do and wouldn’t be around all of the time, it was enough. She’d survive in the interim.

With some help from the Lunaris guards that had joined them--the Aurelian ones would barely give her the time of day after what had transgressed at the temple--it didn’t take long for Katherine to get her large, fur lined tent set up. She’d made sure that it was sufficiently tied down to account for the winds before moving the few crates of belongings she’d brought out of the elements.

When she was done, she joined some of the guards by the newly constructed fire near the center of camp. It wasn’t that Katherine felt cold; the weather was actually quite tame by Lunarian standards. She just needed to feel something different than the cold, unforgiving air that had become the norm seemingly regardless of the season.

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Letter to Princess Amaya and Prince Flynn

Dear Princess Amaya and Prince Flynn,

I would have much rather done this in person, but that will have to wait until we return from the expedition.

I would like to extend my sincerest apologies for my behaviour last week. I don’t know what came over me at the time, but it was unacceptable. Of course, the temple is open to all, and I lost sight of that. It is not lost on me that you and your family in particular are the reason this community even exists.

Upon my return, I would like to arrange to meet with you both so I may express this properly and directly.

Katherine Sorrowind, High Priestess of Selune

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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* * *

_{Mentions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus}

Katherine spotted the running guards before anything else. The ringing of their armor through the otherwise relative silence of Dawnhaven had drawn her attention almost immediately, but unlike the last time, no alarm bell followed suit. No one rushed inside their homes, barred their doors or avoided eye contact.

Not an attack then, nor a danger to the rest of the population. Something that the powers-that-were wanted to keep under wraps, perhaps.

Her mind wandered back to the various conversations she’d picked up in the tavern, landing on one in particular. A rumour of a prisoner that had been arrested recently for voicing a desire to commit treason against the Aurelian king.

A smirk wandered to her face. Go for the Lunarian one while you’re at it. she mused, before letting her usual passive look fall back over her features, They are headed in the right direction for the jail though…

Without another moment of hesitation, Katherine followed in their stead. Her steps were prompt and with purpose, but not rushed so as to not draw any unwanted attention to herself. Beneath her cloak, her dominant hand toyed with the hilt of a shortsword as she moved. The priestess wanted nothing less than a fight right now, especially considering she’d already managed to attract the wrong kind of attention from the prince.

But she also wouldn’t sit idle if a threat presented itself.

Movement caught her eye, her focus briefly pulled to a departing entourage in the distance that she could only assume guarded the royals. Of course you two were involved. Little else would have otherwise explained the prompt and large response from the guards.

Katherine paused just behind an empty home, watching the guard presence at the jail with an analytical gaze. The guards were methodical, if a bit disorganized, as they arranged sentries to guard whoever was still in the jail. She made a mental note of who was giving orders to who, picking out the officers from the soldiers. All it would take would be a bit of patience until the higher ranking members inevitably wandered off, before she could swoop in and persuade some information from the ones who remained.

Another grin spread across her lips. Oh how I’ve missed this.

Opposite to her prediction, however, the jail only seemed to get busier. Reinforcements trickled in until the trickle became a tide—Lunarian sentries, Aurelian patrols, robed sages talking between themselves, and then, to Katherine’s utter annoyance, the commanders of both guard forces descended onto the scene like circling hawks.

Katherine let out a low exhale through her nose, the fog of her breath lingering before her as if trying to irritate her further. So much for slipping in unnoticed. Wherever she looked now, there were only walls standing in her way. But as she lingered in the shadows, a different realization settled over her mind, obvious and embarrassingly simple.

No one here would be looking for a shadow from within the crowd. A smile crept across her face.

As she approached, they were looking at her, most definitely, but more at her presence. The robes, the crescent sigil of Seluna emblazoned on her cloak and gleaming in her jewelry, and the serene face of a priestess that was absent of any guilt. The sages greeted her with nods. The guards barely spared her an ounce of their attention once they realized who she was. To them, she wasn’t a threat, but a part of the scenery. An expected presence among the common rabble of Dawnhaven.

None of them saw through it. None of them saw the weapon her father had forged her into.

As long as she kept her distance from Commander Volkov—he knew her face, knew her family, and had crossed paths with her in the capitol on more than one occasion—no one else would think to question why a priestess might want a closer look at the aftermath of yesterday’s horrors.

Katherine adjusted her hood down as an icy gust tossed a few locks of her hair into her face, and chilled her cheeks right to the bone. She let her posture sink into the calm and regal pace of the high priestess, tending to the needs of her people. She let them see what they expected, what they wanted to see. She made a show of clutching her pendant and muttering a prayer as she made it within a few paces of the jail’s door before someone finally got up the courage to stop her. Her calm, brown eyes rose to meet the guard’s even as her heart raced for a singular moment within.

The young guard standing before the door looked as though he had only just grown into his armor. His beard—thick but uneven—betrayed him, as if trying too hard to define a jaw still soft with youth. Snowflakes clung to his short, black hair, melting onto his bronze skin.

Aurelian, even better. She let her lips lift at the corners slightly to help ease the rigid stance of the young guard. Her eyes dropped to his sword, watching for a moment at how closely his hand was held to its hilt, as if confidence and self reassurance could be drawn from the steel.

”Pardon me, Lady—Priestess, but I wasn’t told that anyone from the temple was coming. Do you have business with the deceased?”

Katherine could barely contain herself at the ease of retrieving information. All of her instincts had braced for resistance and suspicion, the familiar game of slipping through cracks in authority. And instead, she’d walked right up to the front door and been met with nothing but nerves and courtesy.

“Nothing you need to worry yourself over,” she said gently, aiming to settle his nerves, “A prayer to offer, and nothing more. The dead deserve their rites, with no regard to be held for how they lived their life.” She let her gaze drift past him towards the door. She feigned a mild disinterest, as if this was nothing more than a formal routine.

“I won’t be long.”

She watched as the guard’s eyes looked past her to the others, looking for answers that weren’t there. “If you’re concerned, I don’t mind having an audience.”

The guard met her eyes once again, then swallowed and nodded, “R-right… I’ll come with you. Orders say that no one goes in alone, and I don’t need a reprimand from the commander.” He stepped aside and gestured for her to enter first.

The warmth vanished from her the moment she crossed the threshold. A wave of vertigo hit her first, sharp, sudden and nauseating. She stopped immediately at the feeling, bracing a hand on the doorway for balance. Her eyes lifted to meet a warding rune carved in the wall, and in a singular heartbeat, she felt every ounce of magic in her body be ripped from its place and smothered. Even the familiar glow of Seluna’s powers faded from her chest, leaving her completely disconnected.

Only her years of training kept her outward appearance mostly intact, stepping forward once more despite every thread of her being screaming against it.

The air within was stagnant, only moved by the tiniest of currents that made their way through the unfinished walls. It was heavy with the familiar—almost welcome—scent of death, and her eyes lifted to meet the source. A corpse laid slumped against the back wall, surrounded in a pool of what appeared to be relatively fresh blood.

Blightborn. she quickly realized, analyzing what she could in the dark while still keeping the guise of a priestess in mind. His flesh looked decayed, but not in the way she expected. Pieces of it had fallen away in large sections, as if it had barely been attached to begin with. And there was more of it present than Katherine would have ever expected. She stilled at the sight momentarily as her mind ran over every detail.

“Is…is everything alright, Priestess?” The guard’s voice carried hesitation, as if he was afraid to interrupt.

“Was this man tortured?” She replied, feigning concern in every word.

“Not… not as far as I’m aware.” He replied, shifting his weight between his feet before lowering his head for a moment. Katherine noticed it immediately. The pause, it was too long to be simple uncertainty; it was the kind born of someone deciding which version of the truth they were allowed to share. “They said he looked different when they found him. Not like the man that entered.

Katherine nodded, knowing that she was reaching the limits of what she could get away with. Curiosity only got her so far as an excuse.

“Very well.” She replied simply, before lowering to her knees before the body. As she bent, her hand brushed the hidden shortsword beneath her cloak, angling it away so the scabbard wouldn’t hit the floor.

No one expected a priestess to carry steel, and she intended to keep it that way.

“Seluna, my lady in silver, who watches all in darkness.
Accept this wandering soul.
Strip away the weight they carried in life.
Let them rest in the calm of your endless night,
Where no blade, no oath and no fear can reach.

Let your light be the final thing they see before we commend their soul to the stars.”

It almost felt meaningless as she spoke, her voice softly echoing off of the stone walls. The words rang true and landed as intended, but the warding rune blocked any attempt at channelling Seluna’s power into the blessing. No silver light escaped from her hand, and no mark was laid upon the body.

Katherine let out a sigh, lifting her head and rising back to her feet. She stood for a moment, taking in the remaining details of the room that she’d looked past before. Her eyes moved to the open jail cell next to the body, its door wide open. She made a mental note of it, but otherwise remained silent.

Without another sound, she turned and nodded to her escort, who led her back outside and shut the door behind them.

The instant that she crossed the threshold again, Katherine staggered as she felt her power surge from within. Her breath hitched—too sharp and too sudden—as her magic forced its way back within like a fist driving into her ribs. An electric heat pulsed through from her fingertips and down her spine, flooding the hollow void that the ward had carved out. Her vision flickered in white at the edges.

She forced her body to obey.

Even as the blood magic that coursed through her veins threatened to burn her alive, even as lunar magic clawed its way back under her skin, Katherine kept her composure. Her heart hammered against her chest, but she raised her head and presented the expected image. Serene, uninterrupted poise.

Katherine turned her head towards the young guard, then looked around the icy scene before the jail, “So what happened out here then? Surely it must have been something big to warrant such a response from the guards.” With a gentle wave of her hand, she darkened the silhouette of her face momentarily before turning back towards the jail, and towards the guard. But away from Volkov’s prying eyes, who’d just directed his attention towards them.

“An escaped convict, I can say nothing more. Apologies, Priestess.”

Katherine nodded in understanding, “Anyone hurt in the conflict?”

“Some Lunarian squire, don’t remember her name. They carted her off to the infirmary.” He replied, in a more nonchalant tone than Katherine would’ve liked, but she forgave him in an instant as the realization hit her. Her. Daphne.

“That will be all, soldier.” Katherine spoke, her feet already in motion towards the guard barracks and infirmary. She didn’t wait for a reply, departing as quickly as her feet would carry her without running.

* * *

The quiet of the infirmary was unlike the rest of the town. It felt like the wrong kind of silence, the kind that was stolen and forced into place, and not earned. It set Katherine on edge, especially as she felt the periodic waves of healing magic being used. She shuddered at the feeling, gritting her teeth.

Somewhere in this hall, Daphne was here.

Katherine had left the jail before she’d even asked about the extent of the squire’s injuries, and so now she wandered down the hall, eyes scanning the few individuals that were being tended to here. She felt her composure straining as she moved, the perfect image of the high priestess faltering with every step.

Her gaze swept the room once again, sharp and analytical, before she caught on a familiar head of hair and striking violet eyes.

A healer stepped before the priestess in quiet protest of her intrusion, but Katherine didn’t falter for an instant before she disappeared into pure shadow before reappearing behind him, much to his shock.

“Don’t.”

Katherine’s eyes never left Daphne as she approached, stopping at the edge of her bed. Her chest loosened as she realized Daphne was awake, and appeared to be largely unharmed. She opened her mouth to speak but the squire’s name caught in her throat, and Katherine felt a smile start to rise on her face. Her carefully controlled mask was cracking in a way she’d want no one else to see.

Only Daphne.

“Hey…”

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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* * *

_{Mentions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Kira @The Muse}

As Kira departed, Katherine’s eyes returned to the emptiness before her. The pit in her throat coiled tightly as tears welled in her eyes, before she felt the frustration--the anger--sparking into a flame in her chest. Of course Kira didn’t trust her, why would she? The Inquisition’s shadow had followed Katherine everywhere, its curse coursing through her veins. The very same organization that would very likely want Kira dead now that they knew she was alive.

She could understand Kira walking away. None of this was her fault, quite the opposite.

And yet the rejection still burned. It threaded frustration through grief and wove a viciously tight knot around her heart.

A shaky breath escaped her mouth as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

“Damn you, father. Damn you for turning me into this…” She muttered, her hands so tightly balled into fists that she could feel her nails biting into her palm. Her gaze drew downward, catching itself on the basket of food resting on the chair beside her. Daphne’s kindness had been meant to be warm, to be comforting. Yet there it sat, its heat gone and its promise mostly faded.

She stared at it for a long moment, the quiet recognition of it dawning on her slowly; Even kindness could spoil in her hands, left to rot just like the trust and friendship she once carried--

No.

She forced the word into her mind. I will not let you ruin the only good thing I have here. She spoke into the void of her mind with a confidence that had thus far laid dormant.

Katherine forced a weak smile to her lips as she pulled back the blanket that covered Daphne’s gift and began pulling its contents out one-by-one: a bowl of porridge, what appeared to be some sort of filled pastry, as well as a cheesecloth bundle of meats and cheeses. She felt her stomach growl as she looked across the veritable feast before her, and without wasting a moment longer, she dug in.

She was too hungry to care that the porridge was cold, and in a heartbeat it was gone, followed closely by the porridge-filled pastry. Though they lacked any warmth, Katherine felt her mood lightening with every passing moment. A far cry from feeling good, but any improvement was welcome.

“Thank you Daphne.” She whispered, words just barely audible to herself above the idle chatter of the Eye.

Daphne.

The squire. The one who helped her to safety without a second thought, without hesitating even for a moment. Even now with distance between them, the image of vivid violet eyes lingered in her thoughts. There was little that the priestess wouldn’t consider giving to feel that warmth and safety right now.

Katherine shook her head and brought herself back to reality. Coming to the tavern had been a mistake, even if she did get to see Kira again. Part of her wished she had left her old colleague alone, that Kira was still dead in her mind.

But it was time to move on, and the tavern was no longer the place she wanted to be.

It took a moment, but she finally rose from her seat and placed the mostly-empty breakfast basket on the bar. A quick and silent nod of gratitude to the barkeep, and then the priestess departed back into the habitual darkness of Dawnhaven.

Moonmaiden, hear the restlessness in me,
Guide my mind--my heart, through the uncertainty.
Where light falters, let your chosen sentinel remain,
A lantern cradled in the dark.

Take comfort in the shadows,
For in their darkness, no blade may find you.
Where fear whispers, make courage bloom.
Where sorrow lingers, let peace take root.

Selune, keeper of the night.
Hold me steady beneath your light.

Though no words left her lips, she could hear every word perfectly enunciated in her mind. It felt only fair to ask for assistance--even if it never came--when she knew exactly what was going to be asked of her next.

Her official purpose in Dawnhaven was to act as High Priestess and aid the people in their practice of traditional Lunarian rites. And of course, if and when the time came, she was to end Amaya’s life and fulfill the prophecy.

But beyond what was written on royal parchment, there was not a single shadow of doubt in Katherine’s mind of what was to come next.

Her orders would be to kill Kira.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Collab between @The Muse and @SpicyMeatball
_{Location: Alchemy Chambers}

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Zeph said nothing as the distance between them and the others stretched, the pedantic rhythm of noble conversation fading behind the soft crunch of fresh snow beneath his boots. Moonlight barely pierced the thick cloud cover overhead, so he grabbed a torch mounted along the outer wall before veering off the main path and circling the base of the building—stepping into shin-deep snow.

He walked just ahead of Charlotte, close enough to hear the occasional clink of her armor behind him. A steady reminder of how thoroughly fucked he’d be if a feral blight-born actually appeared.

Then again, he’d gotten lucky once today already.
Lady Luck would keep him safe. She always did.

His breath curled in the air as he swept his gaze along the outer wall, noting every ledge and foothold someone might’ve used to climb.
Someone had, after all.

Fortunately, he found it extraordinarily easy to pretend like he didn’t intimately know these walls already.

Absentmindedly, his right hand hovered near his belt, fingers brushing the spot where a weapon should’ve been—an uncomfortable absence rather than a relief now. He made a mental note to grab his sword later. Off-duty or not.

“So, how’d you end up assigned to me?” he asked at last, casting a glance over his shoulder. “What’d you do?” He teased, tone casual and faintly amused, but his eyes stayed sharp, watching the treeline.

Though they were now out of sight of the nobility and she could finally let her mask of professionalism fall, Charlotte was still on edge. Her eyes darted between every shadow that the moon’s light failed to reach and her hand rested on the pommel of her sword, ready to strike should the need arise. She glanced to Zephyros now and then, a twinge of suspicion still tugging at the back of her mind.

“Its more what I haven’t been able to do.” She replied, the hint of melancholy lacing her words, “No one wants to train the recruit who got someone killed while on duty in the capitol. I have not had two days running with the same partner assignment.”

Zeph raised a brow, but kept his eyes forward. Curiosity peaked, yet mingled with something he had been trying to ignore. Her words were a reminder of his own failings—nearly an echo of them.

Charlotte paused, her mind running over yesterday’s encounter with Aliseth, kicking herself internally for the mistake despite still thinking it was the right decision.

She shook her head at the thought, attention returning to her new partner, “Also, pretty sure I signed my own execution with a not so mild act of insubordination yesterday.”

Zeph slowed his stride to match her pace, falling in step beside her, a smirk already forming.

“Insubordination?” He repeated, letting the smirk creep wider. “Sounds like you and I are fated for a long partnership, Hawthorne.”

Charlotte raised a brow at his words, letting her gaze linger on him for a moment.

He shot her a sideways glance, mischief dancing in the gold flecks of his eyes. “Do tell.”

As she noticed his expression, a half-hearted nervous laugh escaped her lips before a small grin of her own spread across them. “A certain officer struck a certain acquaintance of yours, and I intervened. She replied, her words stating the event in a joking, matter-of-fact tone, “Clearly I could’ve done better considering I still have a job, but I more-or-less both undermined an officer and ordered him to stand down in the same breath.”

The attempt at humor certainly helped to ease the shame, but her smile didn’t last long before her thoughts returned to the chewing-out she’d received from Aliseth. Charlotte had endured her fair share of punishments, hazing and beratings to let yesterday’s bother her too much. But the smug implication Aliseth had made that she’d entertained Elio in place of her guard duties was uncalled for, and out of place coming from a superior officer.

“Royal Guard Aliseth also seemed convinced that I was too preoccupied with Elio to hear the alarm bells yesterday. Because that’s clearly the only explanation for negligence.” She paused, shoving her elbow firmly into Zephyros’ shoulder, “Speaking of, that’s from Elio. He also said to tell you that he’s gonna kick your ass. His words, not mine.”

Zeph chuckled, leaning in and gently pushing back against her with his shoulder—eyes locking with hers. “That so? Did he care to say why?”

For a moment, his smile faltered—genuine confusion flickering across his face. Elio always seemed to find ample reasons to be angry at any given moment, but what could it be this time?

His mind ran through the list of possibilities. Had he said the wrong thing to one of Elio’s many pursuits? Encroached on some unspoken territory? He couldn’t possibly know about the damage to the tower already. Had he found out about Zeph abandoning his post for a bite to eat and subsequently—

No. Elio wouldn’t deliver that sort of message through an Aurelian guard. Unless….

The smirk returned, sly and amused.
“Or was Kain right, and you were a little too busy with Elio to ask?”

“Fuck. You.” She glared daggers into him, the words snapping from her mouth like the crack of a whip. There was still a hint of playfulness behind them, but they were dangerously close to being hostile.

“I don’t know Hale, maybe this partnership won’t last as long as you think. You’ve gotta be more creative than that. Keep a girl’s job interesting, would you?”

Zeph laughed, louder this time, grinning back at her. His eyes held hers, searching for a familiar flicker of challenge in hers—one he could play with.

“Oh, on the contrary. I think we could be very creative together.” His voice dipped lower, grin easing into a smirk. “Besides… We’ve got so much in common. I also enjoy disrespecting and ordering Kain around.”

He lifted his torch, getting a better look at her under the firelight. “Pretty bold of you, though, considering….” His gaze trailed over her, a playfully judgemental look in his eyes, as if he could not be any more disappointed with what he saw—her stature, her heritage gleaming in polished steel.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, letting her gaze fall to the side as Zeph performed his inspection. The corner of his mouth twitched in feigned disapproval before he let out a breathy laugh.

“Don’t worry about Kain. He can be a prick sometimes, but he’s more bark than bite.” Zeph waved the matter aside, only to pause a moment later, brows lifting in amused surprise. “But… He actually hit someone? While on duty?”

“In all of his armoured glory. She nodded, “It was deserved, mind you. Elio was tempting fate with how he was talking to Kain. If memory serves, he said Kain was unfit for duty and taunted him with the possibility of someone else going missing on his watch.” Charlotte shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Not sure what possessed me to do what I did, not like the information that he gave me did any good in the end.

Now that the fire between them had calmed, Charlotte found herself studying her new partner in the torchlight, albeit a bit more subtly. While she’d almost expected it given how he carried himself, there was a boyishness in his features that felt strangely disarming. His green eyes flickering closer to yellow in the torchlight, the way his shorter dark hair curled at his forehead, and the absence of the creases and wrinkles in his face that most of the other guards carried.

There were worse people to be partnered with, she smirked to herself.

“Does it surprise you, about Kain?” Charlotte brought herself back to reality, continuing their walk of the perimeter.

Zeph’s amusement faded, his brows drawing faintly together as he peeled his gaze away to look ahead.

“It does…” His voice came quieter this time, more thoughtful. “Elio always pokes at him. That’s nothing new. But normally Kain leaves the fighting to Elio and I.” A smirk flickered across his face before it slipped away again.

“Kain’s too proper for all that. He made it to Royal Guard for a reason…”

His jaw tightened in thought. Restraint had its limits—even for stuffy nobles. Elio had picked the wrong day to jab at him. The memory of Kain at the border wall the night before clawed at the back of his thoughts. His stiff movements, his voice low, the haunted look he couldn't hide. The way he’d treated Nesna. Guilt twisted in Zeph’s gut. He should’ve been just as shaken as Kain. If only he’d stayed at his post.

As they neared the next corner, he lifted his torch higher, letting the light brush against the stone wall as he inspected their path ahead. A few moments later, his steps slowed.

“Look,” he murmured, quiet surprise deliberately threaded into his tone.

A jagged crack crawled upward from where a small sliver of stone had broken off. His brow furrowed tighter as he leaned in, letting the role of concerned partner slip naturally over his features. He cast a quick glance at Charlotte, then swept the torchlight slowly across the snow at the wall’s base. The flame caught faint divots pressed into the drift—signs of footsteps, half-covered by the ongoing snowfall.

Charlotte’s eyes met his for an instant before she followed his motion, trailing the fading footsteps in the snow.

“They could be anywhere by now.” She spoke in quiet contemplation, her gaze searching the forest for any signs of movement.

She tilted her head up, following the wall all the way up until she found the balcony where she’d stood not twenty minutes prior. Apart from the one piece of broken stone, there were no other signs of damage to the exterior of the alchemy tower. Which makes sense, I would’ve heard something. she thought to herself, letting her attention return to the footsteps in the snow.

“Given that the intruder has had plenty of time to escape, and that there’s still the matter of a feral blightborn on the loose, I don’t think it’s wise that we pursue this trail.”

For the first time since they’d left the warmth of the alchemy tower, Charlotte’s main hand left the hilt of her sword to wrap herself in her best attempt at a one-armed hug. The cold was starting to seep through her semi-insulated armor, and her Aurelian blood was still not used to the never-ending cold.

Looking her over, Zeph raised a brow—gaze lingering before dropping to her sword. A thought flickering behind his eyes.

‘First sign of trouble and she’s hugging herself instead of a blade.’

His expression gave nothing away, the harsh judgement buried just as quickly as it came.

“What do you think, partner? She grinned, her voice hinting at some shakiness as she swayed back and forth in an attempt to warm herself.

His attention slid back to her, a faint smirk lifting the corner of his lips. “Considering you’re the only one here with a weapon, I’d say that’s the right call.”

With a casual tilt of his head, Zeph gestured down the path they’d come—silent orders for her to walk with him.
“Best to get you inside before you freeze to death, anyhow. Barrett would never let me hear the end of it. We ought to get you better armor too—Lunarian armor.”

He let the thought hang for a moment, then cast her a mischievous sidelong glance.

“Unless… you’ve got other ideas for keeping warm?”

Charlotte shot him a playful glare before rolling her eyes, “Are you kidding? Kain would have my head.” Zeph quietly chuckled under his breath, turning his attention back to the snowy path ahead. She followed alongside him in stride, eager to move at a brisker pace to warm herself up.

“Besides, with you? I do have standards, you know. Do you really think you'd have a chance if I didn’t sleep with Elio?” She let out an amused laugh as she spoke before shaking her head.

Zeph shot her a feigned glare and studied her with exaggerated scrutiny.

“Please. Elio is bottom of the barrel.” he retorted, voice teasing. “Anyone can find warmth in his bed. But me?” He touched his chest with mock reverence, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Only the most worthy get that honor.”

The smirk lingered as he slipped cold hands back into his coat pockets and tilted his head, flicking a snow-dampened strand of dark hair from his eyes.

“Only the most worthy?” She repeated in a tone of sarcastic disbelief, barely able to contain a laugh. “You live in the barracks, Hale. We both know no one’s bedding anyone in that place.”

Zeph let out a scoff, shooting her a sidelong glance.

“I don't live in the barracks. They assigned me an actual house. Walls, a roof — very fancy.”

He leaned slightly closer, voice lowering. “Besides… it's not impossible in the barracks. You've just got to be sneakier.”

“Sneakier. Right. With the bountiful privacy there is in that place.” Charlotte’s eye-roll was practically audible.

Zeph did have a point about the armor, however. Charlotte had noticed that the Lunarians seemed to be much more comfortable with their thick fur cloaks and insulated armor. While it would probably weigh a bit more, it would serve to keep them much warmer. Her own armor, in contrast, was a simple breastplate that she’d done her best to insulate with the warmest garments she owned. A woven sweater and thick undershirt did little against the bitter chill of the north.

And they weren’t even that far north.

“I will admit, armor is definitely something that you northerners have figured out. I’m wearing most of the clothing I brought with me from the capital and it's still not enough to keep the cold wind at bay.” She paused and took a breath in, letting it out with a dramatic puff of vapor, “Goddess, I miss the sun."

Zeph lifted his gaze to the sky. The absence of the sun wasn’t entirely new to him—or any Lunarian. But they’d been in darkness for a year now. And each lightless day that pushed beyond their typical six month span stirred unease within his chest.

Unless you were fortunate, those six months were always incredibly difficult. Soil unfarmable. Animals scarce. Nights—days—on empty stomachs. By the end of the season, an exhaustion you couldn’t shake had crept deep into your bones.

He shoved the memories of childhood down, hazel eyes drifting back to Charlotte.

The night was familiar, often comforting, but if it never ended… it would surely kill them all. Even King Jericho had admitted as much, hence Dawnhaven’s very existence. Still…. Zeph would’ve rather broken his own arm again than confess to a pompous Aurelian that he missed their wretched sun too.

Thoughtfully, his gaze scanned her armor. Higher quality than his own, and not a single scratch on it. He thought of her bundled under several layers of clothing beneath the steel, still shivering despite it. A small smile tugged at his lips.

“Sounds like you need a new wardrobe too. It gets a lot colder than this, you know.” he teased, meeting her eyes.

“I didn’t know colder was actually possible. She paused, her brows furrowing for a moment before she turned back to Zeph with a suspicious look, “You’re certain? Like, absolutely sure without the shadow of a doubt?

“Next you’re going to tell me that the cold will burn my skin or something equally insane.”

Zeph let out an exaggerated sigh, shoulders rising with mock exasperation. “We really do have to help you light-lovers with everything, don’t we?” He clicked his tongue and shook his head, then smirked.

“That’s a lot of smack coming from a nation who still hasn't mastered healing magic, mister northerner-who-broke-his-wrist-slipping-on-ice.” She shot back with a shit-eating grin.

Zeph chuckled, matching her grin with his own. “Soooo sorry, your majesty. Not all of us can be as graceful as you southerners.” His tone dripped with sarcasm as his gaze flicked over her once more.

For a moment, his expression softened just a fraction. “I do have some extra coats I could lend you.” The words came with his usual playful lilt, mischief still dancing in his eyes, but the offer was genuine.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, the crunch of the snow under her boots filling the long moment of silence she left before replying, “... … I … I may take you up on that.”

“But not because I need help from you, let's make that clear. I’ve survived this long.” Charlotte didn’t wait for a reply, boots crunching over packed snow as their breath fogged the air between them. Her pace quickened, a feeble attempt to get ahead of Zeph and hide the gentle twinge of embarrassment that had begun to creep into her cheeks.

Each window they passed brought her renewed sense of urgency, the amber light within the Alchemy Chambers promising warmth and safety from the unforgiving night. Charlotte could almost feel the constant, dry heat waves that radiated from the hearthfire within.

As the pair reached the door, the recruit stopped before it and turned to Zephyros. She met his eyes for a moment, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Thanks for… not being a dick. It’s nice to know that not everyone within the ranks thinks I’m the bane of their existence.”

Hand pausing on the knob, Zeph tilted his head, eyes locked with hers. "I never said you weren't the bane of my existence, Hawthorne."

He let the words hang for a heartbeat, enjoying the faint flicker of something in her expression before a slow, wicked smirk tugged at his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he pulled the door open, warmth spilling out into the cold night. "After you," he said, voice laced with amusement, gesturing for her to step inside first.

“See the difference is, you’re still talking to me. she grinned, rolling her eyes once more before proceeding inside the Alchemy Chambers once again.

“Now you’re stuck with me.”

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Collab between @The Muse and @SpicyMeatball
_{Location: Eye of the Beholder}

Part I

---

And you’re supposed to be in the capital, Cricket.

Katherine’s posture stiffened as the nickname left Kira’s lips. Her breath caught in her throat, as if a cold, dead hand of the past brushed across the back of her neck. It took every bit of willpower to keep her outward appearance calm as the memories flooded back.

Once, the name had been gentle. Figments of her mother entered Katherine’s mind, when the two of them would share the balcony of their home and watch the stars come out. My little cricket, she would say, brushing Katherine’s hair in the otherwise silent evening air.

But after her mother’s disappearance, her father had tainted it with his cold demeanor. No longer was it a pet name, but a brand. A name for his tool. A title that took quickly among the inner circle of the King’s Eye and all but replaced her real name during assignments.

She’d never wanted the name, not from them. But no one had asked. It shadowed her in every coded message and every whispered order, and reminded her that she’d stopped being someone’s daughter and had become their asset.

Kat was exactly as Kira remembered her—blonde, brown-eyed, beautiful. She’d always had an inviting face, despite the darkness that lurked beneath the surface. Attractive enough to get herself into places she didn’t belong… but not striking enough to stand out in a crowd—to be remembered.

A chirping cricket, falling silent—listening—when others drew near.
A little, unseen weapon.

Another colleague with blood on her hands.
At times, a friend. A confidant.
And yet—

Kira’s firelit eyes trailed over the religious robes draped around Kat’s body. An eyebrow arched. “Did you come at the clergy’s request?”

After a moment of lingering silence, Katherine’s eyes raised to Kira’s with their usual practiced composure. “Something like that.” she spoke, the hint of a cold smile playing at the edge of her lips, “They had a need and I… … was available.”. As the last words left her mouth, Katherine shot Kira a knowing look that brushed dangerously close to a warning.

One she hoped—no, she knew, Kira would recognize.

Kira’s expression didn’t shift.
She let the silence stretch, gaze fixed on Kat’s face—quietly assessing.

Kat had always answered to a higher power. Her father. Seluna. The King.
Kira was no better. She’d bent the knee, too.
But which of them had sent her to Dawnhaven? And why?

Her attention dropped to the coin. Dread crept in, cold and familiar.

She was supposed to be dead.

And if Kat was still reporting to those higher powers…
Then Kira’s freedom was fleeting fast.

A flicker of heat surged through her blood, each nerve set on edge. The beast she kept locked within began to stir—restless, sensing its cage beginning to crack.

“Why do you have this?” she asked sharply, nodding toward the coin.

Though her outward appearance hadn’t changed, Kat sensed the shift in Kira’s demeanor. It was the hint of an emotion that she hadn’t seen from Kira before. A hint of feeling threatened.

Katherine loathed the shift. She hated that her presence now stirred caution instead of trust.

Placing her steps carefully, she slowly took a seat opposite of Kira and placed her hands flat on the table. A simple gesture, but one that showed she meant no harm.

“When you were presumed dead, our superiors had me clear out your remaining belongings,” she admitted, nodding her head, “It was the only memory of you that I could pocket while under a watchful eye.”

Kira studied Kat’s face in silence, weighing each word with suspicion. After a few beats, her gaze dropped to the coin.

Long ago, it had filled her with warmth. Given her hope.
It was the only item from her homeland that she’d managed to sneak past her captors—for a time.

When she’d been nervous, she’d hide it in her pocket and turn it over in her fingers for comfort.
At night, she’d curl beneath her blanket and clutch it like a lifeline, whispering prayers to Aelios and pleas to a family she could no longer picture.

Now, it only summoned memories of blinding migraines and the metallic taste of blood.

Katherine’s calm, brown eyes remained fixed on Kira’s until she was confident that she had her former co-worker’s attention, before they flicked to her own right hand, now turned palm-up on the table. Her fingers bent in quick succession, a subtle invitation.

Kira knew what she was asking. She’d placed her hands in Kat’s countless times before.

But it was different now.
They no longer played for the same team—and camaraderie meant little to someone who lived with a hidden blade pressed to their throat.

Kira wouldn’t have blamed Kat for turning on her. She knew the deal. And the cost.

Despite the potential risk, she reached across the table and loosely curled her fingers into Kat’s. Close enough to resemble affection and trust—loose enough that their fingers could still move, free and discreet, in a language only they knew.

“I didn’t know you were so sentimental.” she said dryly, eyes lifting to meet Kat’s.

The corner of Kat’s mouth lifted in reply, her eyes smiling ever-so-slightly, “Some might call me soft for saying it, but I’ve missed having you around.”

With the quick motion of her fingers—a mixture of taps and tracings barely visible to any onlookers—Katherine began to form the message she was so desperate to hide from the presence within. A simplified message of broken up words that withheld the pleasantries of conversation but nonetheless was effective at transferring information.

Possessed by blood magic. They are watching from within me. I am not your enemy, but they now know you are alive.

She stopped a moment to let the message sink in, her eyes never leaving Kira’s face.

Kira didn’t blink as she held Kat’s gaze, betraying nothing.

But inside, she’d gone cold and hollow where her heart had sunk straight through the floor. Each movement of Kat’s fingers had carved gouges into her palm, burning into her skin and radiating throughout her body like a slow poison.

“I’ve missed you, too.” She forced the words past her lips, voice calm and steady, keeping their exchange natural—careful not to draw suspicion from the presence that apparently had its talons buried in Kat.

Then, one more quick set of gestures.

I’m sorry.

The Inquisition, and to a certain extent, the King’s Eye, now knew that Kira was still alive. What had started as a reunion between lost friends had turned into a likely death-sentence.

For both of them, if Katherine didn’t play this right.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

---

---

* * *

_{Interactions: Kira @The Muse}

_{Mentions: Daphne @PrinceAlexus}

Basket of now-cold breakfast in hand, Katherine paced through the snow in silence. Large snowflakes dotted the ink-black fabric of her robes like falling stars, only visible for a moment before they melted into the void. Like always, each step was practiced and made with intent, though utterly silent in the snow just as she’d been taught. Her mind was mostly elsewhere however, dragging guilt of the past behind her like a rusted chain.

She clenched her jaw as Amaya’s face flickered in her thoughts, the image lodging itself between her ribs and forcing a shaky breath from Katherine’s lips. Stopping for a moment, she closed her eyes and took in a breath, shoving the memory down with the speed of someone who was far too adept at burying inconvenient ghosts.

Katherine instead pulled her focus to the basket in her hand, its weight swaying gently back and forth with each step she took.

What she wouldn’t do to share Daphne’s comfort again right now.

Instead of the warmth they’d shared last night, the familiar cold air now clung to her skin. It snuck its way through her robes and brought a chill to her that ran the length of her spine. But it was predictable, and far easier to endure in place of the quiet tempest that brewed behind her eyes.

The soft glow of the tavern’s lanterns came into view at the street’s end, flickering like distant beacons through the white haze. Her pace slowed for half a breath, hesitation gnawing at her heels. There would be warmth there. Fire. Unfamiliar faces. And questions—spoken or otherwise. The only thing she’d known to spread faster than both fire and the blight itself, were rumors.

And she’d done a damn good job of giving people plenty to talk about. Considering how ghastly she’d felt the night before after her…interrogation—and the way the prince had looked at her, it was clear her misery had been plain to see.

“Let them whisper” she muttered to herself, annoyed at her own thoughts, “It’s not their ghosts I have to carry.”

Her silent footsteps loudened as she climbed the stairs leading into the Eye. Katherine stopped a moment and took a breath, the features of her face settling into their usual, practiced state of unreadable calm. Then, she paced inside and let the warmth of the hearthfire warm her to the bone.

The warmth of the tavern pressed against her like a wall—the low hum of conversation, the crackle of fire, the faint scent of ale and smoke curling through the air.

And with it, the feeling of a handful of gazes being sent her way.

Subtle and scattered, but there all the same—a few heads turned, voices dipped, the clatter of a tankard paused mid-table. Their stares weren’t hostile enough to be called confrontation, but they also weren’t indifferent enough to be ignored. Her robes always seemed to stir some quiet curiosity when she entered a place like this. Or resentment from those who were just as skeptical about this alliance as her superiors were.

Katherine kept her hood low, spine straight, and her expression unreadable as her boots carried her across the room towards the hearthfire. She could feel their attention trailing after her—the way one might watch a wolf stray too close to the sheep pen. Cautious. Wary. Waiting to see what she'd do.

She didn’t look back. She never did. Let them wonder. Let them watch. She was far too used to it by now.

The priestess took a seat at the bar, but waved off its tender just as quickly. Alcohol had never solved any issues within her household, it wasn’t going to change anything now. She just needed the eyes that were trained on her to leave, to return to their conversations about goddess-knew-what.

It never took long. The moment stretched for a few heartbeats longer at most, before chairs began to creak and conversations stirred once more.

Only then did Katherine lower her hood and turn to examine her surroundings.

It wasn’t the absence of eyes that truly pulled her attention from the crowd, but the presence of another familiar and uninvited face. One that was framed by long, flame-red hair and that wore the same torn edges of frayed patience as herself. The woman’s posture mirrored Katherine’s own—shoulders drawn tight, eyes shadowed with quiet calculation, the unmistakable air of someone who carried their past like a blade tucked beneath their ribs.

Nightshade.

Katherine felt the presence within her recognize the woman just as quickly as she had herself.

Of course you’re here, Katherine laughed internally, hands pushing against the bar. Dawnhaven sure knows how to collect its ghosts, doesn’t it?

With a quiet pace, Katherine slipped from the bar without a sound, her robe flowing behind her like a phantom. The tavern’s patrons were easy enough to navigate; shoulders hunched over drinks, backs turned in conversation, eyes mostly fixed on their own troubles. She wove through them like a shadow, the chatter of the crowd masking the sound of her footsteps almost perfectly.

Kira hadn’t seen her yet. The redhead’s sharp gaze was fixed ahead, a small bottle of alcohol between her fingers. Katherine felt a slight moment of pride as she came to a stop just behind her; sneaking up on Kira was something that was far more easily said than done.

Her fingers rose quietly to the pendant of Seluna resting at her throat, the familiar weight of it cool against her skin. With practiced care, she unfastened the delicate clasp and slipped it free. Nestled behind the moon-shaped pendant, hidden from sight but never forgotten, was a single gold coin strung along the same chain — plain in design, yet unmistakable. One side bore the Aurelian crest, the other, the warm likeness of King Auric himself.

Then, in a single fluid step, she closed the final paces that remained between herself and Kira, and placed the coin flat onto the table before her. Without a word, she slid it forward, the golden edge glinting faintly in the firelight as it came to rest directly in front of her. Katherine’s eyes lingered on the redhead’s face, sharp and steady, searching for the smallest flicker of recognition.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Katherine’s voice carried no warmth, no hostility—just the cool, steady weight of simple fact.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

---

---

* * *

Lunaris’ festivals were the one time that Katherine had felt the capital truly come alive. Despite the harsh weather that always seemed to batter them, despite the stress of impending doom that had all but blanketed them, and even despite her current mission, she found a singular moment to enjoy the revelry.

The sound of music was what she first noticed; flutes and drums, violins and bells echoed throughout the plaza. Mixed in with it was the dull hum of a lively crowd, with periodic laughter audible breaking its monotony. As Katherine’s eyes swept across the scene, lanterns hung from vendor tents drifted by in the periphery. The bright dyes in the fabric still managed to break through in spite of the dull moonlight, catching her gaze for a moment before it was drawn back to the task before her.

Katherine stood in the crowd, though she couldn’t feel her feet on the ground. The faces around her blurred as if smeared by time, the faceless revelers wrapped in laughter and noise. For a moment she savoured the experience, lost in the sights, sounds and smells that surrounded her.

And then a familiar head of long, dark hair caught her gaze.

Amaya. The very one that was assigned to Katherine’s watchful eye. The one she’d followed from the palace, past unknowing guards and into the heart of the celebrations.

A thread of guilt twisted in her chest and she found her head bowing knowingly towards the princess.

She already knew how this night played out.

* * *

The throne room stretched out before her, the cold, silver-blue light that glimmered on the polished floor exaggerating the ice that she felt in her heart. The silence was oppressive.

At the base of the throne’s steps, Katherine stood trembling, her knuckles white as she squeezed her hands tight. She felt the ache of her ribs, how they protested with each breath that she drew in, threatening to pierce the very lungs they protected. Her pulse pounded in her ears, a wild rush, and a fleeting affirmation that there was a beating heart within her, vulnerable and flawed.

A heart that she wasn’t sure would survive the betrayal that loomed over her.

On the throne, the King sat perfectly still. His piercing gaze was fixed on her, one that seemed to stare directly into her soul. His face was ever-impassive, a mask forged by power and one that revealed absolutely nothing.

Katherine suspected that he already knew what she was about to say. This was most certainly a test, and one that in both the eyes of the King and her father, she had already failed. An agent of espionage was not supposed to hide the truth from the very ones who commanded them.

She could feel her father’s presence just a half pace behind her, a presence that radiated resentment and rage. It flowed through her from the grip he held around the back of her neck, one of absolute control. She’d embarrassed him before the highest power in the kingdom. The punishment she’d already received would only be the beginning.

Katherine opened her mouth. Her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth, resisting the words that were battling their way up from deep within—words that, once uttered, would destroy something pure. Her loyalty. Her conscience. The growing sliver of silent trust with Amaya that had developed through wordless understanding.

The King’s eyebrows drew together a fraction—a signal of growing impatience—while her father remained a rigid shadow just over her shoulder, a silent manifestation of the punishment that would follow if she chose silence instead of loyalty.

For a moment, Katherine wished the stones beneath her would crack and swallow her, or that the heavens would bring down a thunderous chaos to interrupt the moment. Anything—anything—to spare her the agony of delivering the betrayal that was expected of her. But there was no refuge. There was only the oppressive silence, the piercing stare, and the words that were slowly forcing their way past her lips.

The silence trembled as Katherine drew in a shaky breath — just enough to enable her voice.

“P-princess Amaya… left.”

Three words fell from her lips, each one tasting like poison. Each one weighed on her soul like an anvil dragging her to the depths of the ocean.

She felt her father’s grip on her neck tighten. More. He wanted more.

Katherine drew a shaky breath in, her jaw quivering as tears blurred her vision.

“T-the festival… y-your highness.”

* * *

Katherine’s eyes fluttered open from beneath the blanket, being met with total darkness. The cold wood of her chamber floor pressed unforgivingly against her shoulder, grounding her in the present even as her mind reeled with echoes of the past. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest—not from exertion, but from the lingering weight of the dream, the taste of old betrayal still bitter in her mouth.

She pushed herself upright slowly, letting the blanket around her fall to the floor. The dream still clung to her like a second skin however. That oppressive throne room, the weight of two gazes, and the sound of her own voice offering up Amaya like a lamb to the butcher. Just three words. Princess Amaya left. Three words that had haunted her for years.

The memory wasn’t new. She’d tried her best to forget it, to bury it in the past and move on. And she’d almost succeeded, right up until Amaya had walked into the temple. The princess’ appearance had ripped away the scab of time far too soon and let the guilt bleed everywhere.

It was never just the confession that haunted her, but the fact that her younger self had done nothing to resist. Quiet and submissive. But at nineteen, under her father’s thumb, with bruises she hadn’t dared show and eyes that had learned to stay lowered — what choice had there really been?

Katherine had also known nothing of the consequences of her actions. It was only Amaya’s absence at any gatherings that had hinted towards anything being wrong.

“Amaya… I’m sorry.” She choked on the words, planting her forehead onto her knees. “I should have lied for you… Goddess knows I’m good enough at it,” Katherine shook her head, looking up to the ceiling and letting her head hang back in remorse, “I wasn’t strong enough.”

With slow and deliberate movements, Katherine rose to her feet. Her hands moved in habitual independence, straightening her robes as she’d done a hundred times before and wiping away the lines of tears that she pretended didn’t exist. Piece by piece, she assembled herself back into the shape of the High Priestess.

Even if that shape was battered and bruised.

She didn’t speak as she stepped out of her chambers and back into the main hall, nor did she acknowledge the small gathering just outside. Dawnhaven awaited, indifferent to the tempest in her chest.
And perhaps, in the clamor of the town, she could find a moment’s peace — or at least a distraction sharp enough to keep the past at bay.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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* * *

_{Mentions: Elara @Qia}

Forgive me, your highness, if I don’t find comfort in the echo of Aurelian steel… The words repeated themselves in her head, their sentiment as sharp as broken glass. It had felt like the right thing to say in the moment. There was not a shred of dishonesty among them.

But as the silence between them settled and the Prince and Princess departed, an all-too familiar feeling of nausea grew in her head.

She stood still. To those around her, Katherine’s composure remained unwaveringly calm. Her thoughts, however, began to fray at the edges. A string of uncertainty and doubt began to weave its way through her chest--not about what she’d said, but why it had been so easy to say.

The anger and conviction were real, they always had been.

But they also weren't entirely hers.

Why does this feel louder… more present than it should?

It was as if someone had slowly fed the dormant beast all of these years, shaping it into something just a little bit sharper than before. Over and over. Now that beast was awake, roaring from the shadows, powerful enough to push her out of her comfort zone and coax her into saying things that would have normally been held back.

You. She practically growled within her mind, beginning to pace towards her chambers. Katherine stared blankly ahead, completely taken by her thoughts. She didn’t acknowledge, or even notice as Elara gave her a nod.

This isn’t yours. I know what’s mine. Get out of my head.

But even as she clung to that thought, there was still doubt. Wasn’t the bitterness always there? Hadn’t she earned it? She remembered the stories of the war, the grief in the eyes of her instructor who had fought in it. The cold looks given to her by captured Aurelian spies, the hatred that they spewed towards her people.

It was real, it had to be.

And yet something far more venomous bubbled just beneath the surface. A low, quiet chuckle echoed in her mind as she closed the door behind her. Not a sound, but a sensation. A very ripple in her blood.

I only helped you see clearly, Sorrowind. Focused you on the truth and removed all of the rest. You were already broken in all of the right places.

I simply filled in the cracks.

Katherine clenched her jaw tightly, her vision darkening at its edges as rage boiled in her chest. She rested the basket of food on the floor with a shaky hand, a result of the little remaining control she held. The shadows of the room pulsed before her, growing deeper and deeper as she tightened her hands into fists.

Get out of my head, she hissed, darkness snuffing out the candles that had illuminated the room only a moment before. Her carefully constructed mask had fallen now that she was out of view of the others.

But the presence didn’t back down. It never did. It only coiled tighter in absolute silence.

Katherine’s entire body shook as she slowly sat down on the edge of her bed. Her eyes lowered to her open, trembling hands before she caught a glance of herself in the mirror that sat across the room. Her reflection looked back from its surface, but something about it was off. It wasn’t her. Not quite.

Its eyes were too dark. Too shadowed and malicious to be her own.

“You don’t belong here.” Her words escaped her lips despite her intent of keeping them within. The figure that looked back from the mirror became ever unrecognizable with every passing minute until nothing was left but pure shadow.

Oh but I do. Why fight it, little shadow? This is exactly why you were made.

A flutter of movement to the side—her cloak shifting on the wall—made her flinch. Her breath caught as shadows stretched unnaturally across the floor, reaching, curling. She blinked, and they were still again, but the air remained thick. Suffocating.

“You're unraveling.” something inside her hummed, and her voice echoed in tune. Not with malice. With certainty.

And maybe she was. Katherine felt hollow, completely emptied of anything real. Thoughts and words jumbled themselves in her mind, mismatched fragments of both memory and rage now so tightly intertwined that she couldn’t differentiate them.

She pressed her hands to her temples, but the storm didn’t quiet.

She couldn’t tell where her voice ended and its voice began.

“Leave… me… alone…” Both her own voice and the one from within rang in unison.

Katherine sank to the floor, knees tucked to her chest as she dragged the blanket from her bed over top of herself. Whether it was the fabric or her own shadows, she welcomed the darkness that wrapped around her. It had always calmed her. It had always cradled her and protected her.

And though the silence finally came and she finally stopped trembling, Katherine knew that this was far from over. It still murmured in her thoughts, still drew breath.

It still watched from within.