The Muse

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: Seluna Temple}

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How long had it been? Ten minutes? Fifteen? No… Twenty?

Kira blinked, tearing her eyes down from the night sky. She lifted her hands from the water, examining the gouges she’d carved into her own palms on the walk to the temple. The bleeding had stopped. She barely even felt her fingertips. Or her limbs. In fact, her entire body felt numb, and yet…

No shivering.

She’d been submerged in ice water for more than twice the time she’d ever been able to endure as a human. Calm. Unmoving. The instinct to seek warmth was barely a whisper in the back of her mind. The transformation had made the cold more than tolerable. Almost irrelevant.

Despite all the ailments this water was said to heal, Seluna’s sacred moonwater could not have purified her. She had known it wouldn’t. Seluna had never been the most giving of the Goddess’, even in the best of times. But a small pang of disappointment lingered nonetheless. Something inside had quietly wished for it, despite knowing.

But the waters had always offered calm and clarity. And it had given her that, at least.

The panic had subsided. The anger curled inward, compressed into a small, heavy — manageable — knot in the center of her chest. She could breathe again.

She looked up through the open dome once more, watching large snowflakes steadily descend into the temple.

The prayer she’d begun before she’d entered the moonpool was unfinished. The final words danced at the edge of her tongue, but she forced them down.

Her fiery eyes narrowed on the moon’s light beyond the clouds. In the capital, she would have been forced to finish the prayer before being allowed to rise from Seluna’s waters.

She would not finish this ritual.
Not anymore.
It was no longer hers.

Feeling a tingle run down her spine, Kira glanced at her pile of clothing and weapons. The Lunarian guard was close now. She could feel his approach — she’d been aware of each and every step he took toward her.

Bracing her hands against the pool’s rim, she pushed herself out of the water. Sitting on the stone edge, she let the water rush off of her body and puddle onto the temple floor.

Behind her, the doors creaked open, but she didn’t turn to see who’d entered. She already knew. If not for their bond, then for the singular heartbeat that accompanied his arrival.

“Oh! Are you alright?”

She cringed, glaring down at the rippling moonpool. The tight ball of anger in her chest flexed.

“I was worried, I thought I heard.. Well, I think I did.. I—”

“Stop.”

And he did. His stammering. His fast approaching footsteps. He froze mid-stride in the center of the temple.

She sighed heavily. “You are incessant, aren’t you?”

Slowly she stretched her neck from side to side. Rolled her shoulders. Stretched her arms and her fingers. Then, when she felt feeling in her legs again, she stood.

She half turned, meeting his dark eyes, filled with concern — or perhaps horror. “Relax.” She murmured with a half smile. Bending, she gathered her pile of belongings. “Grab me a towel, hmm?”

She quietly padded to one of the pews, while he obeyed and began to move again — finding a nearby supply nook. Silently, while she rang out the wet ends of her hair onto the ground, he brought a towel.

As she dried herself, his lips parted. She felt his mind searching desperately for words. Thoughts slipped away before he could latch onto them. She nudged them further out of reach.

“Listen.” She draped the towel over his shoulders, then stepped into her undergarments and her pants. “You’re assigned here now. At the temple.”

“But I—”

Something slipped through. A stronger emotion, enough to let him speak. She extinguished it.

“Beg your commander to put you here. You’re devoted to protecting the Priestess now.”

He didn’t respond. She gave him a faint closed lipped smile and pulled on her shirt.

“You’re deeply devoted to the faith. Even if you weren’t before, now you are. Study. Assimilate.”

She tugged on her boots, propping one muddy shoe onto the pew as she slid a dagger into it.

“The Commander will—”

“Switch assignments with someone else. I don’t care how you do it.”

She met his gaze as she secured her second dagger at her hip. He blinked, frozen again.

“At the end of each day, you’ll report what you’ve seen to me. Or—” She shrugged on her coat, feeling the weight of Sya’s alcohol still in her pocket. “I will take it from your mind myself.”

Stepping closer, she placed a delicate hand on his cheek. “Understand?”

The response took a moment.

A few breaths passed between them. His heartbeat thundered in her ears. For a moment, she considered sinking her fangs into his throat again. But it was too soon. She’d kill him. And now — he had a use.

He nodded. She smiled.

“Good boy.”

With a harder than necessary pat to the side of his face, she turned and left him there in the temple. Held in place by their bond, he would remain. Praying. Acting the role. Until she loosened her grip enough for him to think on his own again.

Pushing open the heavy temple doors, Kira stepped into the falling snow and raised her hood.

It was time to go home.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: Aelios Temple}

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For a long moment, Eris could only stare. Eyes wide, cheeks burning with a heat impossible to hide, she struggled to keep pace with the Lord’s flood of self-praise and boasts. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. Inwardly, she winced.

This felt like some kind of cruel joke, or perhaps a nightmare of her own making. Staring at Ayel’s naked form before her, she wasn’t entirely sure that it wasn’t. She had known him to be... eccentric, but to hear him speak so freely of his own grandeur and her supposed fortune to receive his hand was something else entirely.

She supposed some women in the capital might think themselves lucky for it.

They’d be the talk of Aurelia, indeed. Her father would be beside himself. Giddy at the thought of a Hightower matched to a Raunefeldt. Such a union would raise both families' influence to glittering heights… and her own reputation to scandalous depths. Her mother would pity her, but remain silent.

Her brother would laugh, she thought. Or worse, lecture her on how far Raunefeldt coin could further their research and insist that he could find use for a brother-in-law with closeness to the Prince.

The image of sharing a household — a life — with Ayel sent an involuntary shiver crawling down her spine. She fought to keep it from showing on her face.

“My Lord,” she began softly, the corners of her lips curving into a delicate, practiced smile. “I… I am truly overwhelmed by your graciousness.”

She hesitated, then carefully removed her hands from her pockets and smoothed them over her dress. Slowly, she bent in a deep bow, training her eyes on a dark spot in the floorboards as she forced the words free from her throat.

“It is no small thing to receive such a proposal from a man of your station. I am… honored that you would think of me so kindly.”

Her tone was steady, her expression the picture of courtly composure, but inside, her mind raced for a way to redirect the conversation before he mistook her politeness for acceptance.

“However," she continued quickly, her voice light and apologetic as she rose upright, her eyes finding his through the dim lighting. “You’ve endured quite an ordeal, and I cannot in good conscience make so significant a decision while you are still cold and no doubt shaken from this encounter.”

Her gaze flicked toward the guards — an escape.

“Perhaps,” she said, inclining her head toward the man standing at the far end of the hall, “you might fetch Lord Raunefeldt some proper robes and a coat. The guest wardrobes should have something suitable. We can hardly send him home in such a state.”

The guard hesitated, exchanged a glance with the other, then nodded and disappeared down the corridor.

Eris turned her attention back to Ayel, offering another faint, patient smile. “You see, my Lord, I only wish to give your most generous offer the full consideration it deserves. Surely, such a noble union is not something to be rushed.”

Her phrasing was deliberate. Gentle, deferential, but intentionally noncommittal. She knew the way his ego worked; to deny him outright would likely wound his pride and invite a tantrum. Better to placate him with the illusion of progress. For now.

“Let us first inform the Prince of what transpired here,” she continued, folding her hands neatly before her. “Ensuring Dawnhaven’s safety — and yours — must come before all else. Then, once this matter is resolved…” She offered a graceful dip of her chin. “…we may speak again.”

A quiet shuffle echoed down the hall as the guard returned, carrying a neatly folded set of guest robes, simple leather shoes that looked better suited for the barracks, and a thick guard’s coat. Plain, but warm.

Eris took them, then stepped aside and extended her arm in offering, careful to avert her eyes from Ayel’s unclothed form. “Here, my Lord. These should suffice until you can return to your manor.”

Her voice remained measured and kind, but her body angled subtly away, leaving him room to take the garments without further impropriety.

In front of her, the other guard — Kale — turned and took the clothes from her. Eris stiffened briefly, then let her hands retreat back into her coat pockets as he entered the High Priestess’ chambers. His dark eyes narrowed on Ayel as he extended the clothing toward him, gesturing with a curt nod for the Lord to take them and leave.

Eris, meanwhile, held her position by the door, her expression composed, though her thoughts tangled beyond measure. With everything that had happened this morning, and now this… her head ached.

“Please,” she broke the silence, her gaze fixed on the floorboards, “give me but a little time to consider your… generous offer.”

She drew in one slow breath, then another. “Let us be certain the temple is secure, my Lord. The guards will scour the area and alert the others of what happened here.” Her eyes lifted to the guard in the hallway for silent confirmation before she added, softly, “I must attend to some other matters here first, but I... I will let you know when I have made my decision at once.”

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_{Interactions: Ayel @Dezuel}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: Aelios Temple}

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The High Priestess’ room was dark. The only light source spilled in from the candles that lined the hallway. Dark, but not dark enough. She’d only managed to make out Lord Raunefeldt’s pale silhouette, stark against the shadows, and yet she’d still seen more than she’d ever wished to.

Eyes wide, her gaze snapped up to meet his — equally wide, and seemingly just as horrified. Her lips parted as she let out a shaky breath, brows drawn tight in worry as he rattled off a story of being robbed.

For a moment, her eyes flicked to the window on the far side of the room. Whoever had broken into her room — had they come here too? Had they left something behind for the Priestess to find? Had they made a miscalculation and run into Lord Raunefeldt before being able to slip away? Turning into a weasel would explain why Charlotte hadn’t seen anything from the balcony. But… why take the Lord’s clothing? And why—

Someone stepped out in front of her, filling the doorframe.

Her breath hitched. Her frantic heart lurched up into her throat as she took another startled step back, taking in the tall figure looming before her. Gleaming armor of silver and gold — Aurelian. A strong, commanding voice that filled the hall.

Completely hidden behind the guard, Eris nervously bit the inside of her lower lip as she listened to him begin to berate the nobleman. Slowly, she peeked around his shoulder, trying to meet Ayel’s gaze again. Confusion flickered across her face. Had he really been told to not enter the room prior to this? Was any of what he said true? But why lie?

Even in the dim light, she could see the ire beginning to burn in the Lord’s eyes.

Eris had never witnessed one of Ayel’s infamous meltdowns in person, but she’d heard plenty about them. They had a legendary reputation among Aurelian high society. Some enjoyed the show of it all—and what they could accomplish. Others abhorred it. But one thing was almost always certain: those who crossed Ayel Raunefeldt tended to regret it for years to come.

In Aurelia, his influence meant something.

But did it still hold the same weight in Dawnhaven?

Eris glanced up to the guard as Ayel’s voice began to rise, spitting venom in his direction. The guard’s face was too shadowed to read, but he held himself steady under the verbal assault. She shifted her gaze back to Ayel, grimacing through the accusations and chastising.

When the Lord’s fury suddenly turned on her, her expression faltered. She froze. Throat dry, heart still pounding in her chest. Her fingers felt numb from white-knuckling the gemstone and Tia’s hairpins inside her pockets.

She had no interest in being added to Ayel’s long list of grudges.

“I—” Her voice trembled as she shifted her blue gaze back to the guard, who let out a heavy sigh. She tried to recall who she’d seen when she’d entered the temple. There had been a guard. Dark haired and Aurelian, just like this one.

When he turned to face her, she looked up, taking in his features as the candlelight illuminated them. The scar across his face was prominent — something she knew would have remembered. He was entirely unfamiliar to her.

Sensing a new presence, she glanced down the hallway, spotting the other guard she’d seen now standing at the end of the hallway, watching the commotion. As the one before her began to question her, she blinked, her gaze returning to meet his brown eyes.

“Well, I—” she began again, faltering as she tried to look beyond him to meet Ayel’s assured scrutiny, but his form completely blocked the nobleman from view. She drew in a breath to steady herself, willing her thoughts into order.

“I—I did not see you when I arrived.” She admitted, eyes dropping to the floorboards in thought. “But…” She paused, returning her gaze to him.

She studied him—his eyes, his posture, the way he held himself beneath the weight of Aurelian armor. Then, carefully, “Shapeshifting is not something easily done. Not by a human.”

She stepped to the side, just enough to see Ayel again. “It’s… almost unheard of, Lord Raunefeldt.”

The act of altering one’s body so completely was an ancient form of illusion magic. One nearly lost to time. Eris was a skilled illusionist herself, but even the finest Sage’s could not fathom how to achieve such a feat without dire consequences.

Incredibly rare, but not impossible.

“Such an act would take a great toll on an Aurelian right now,” she continued quietly. “If he were truly an illusionist, it would take him time to return to a human form.” She hesitated, thinking aloud. “Though it’s… possible that a blight-born could transform without the need for magic at all.”

Her eyes flicked back to the guard, assessing him in silence.

Blight-born had so many facets. So many unknowns and variables. At times it was hard to tell if they were blight-born or human, though the majority—thankfully—bore a visible tell that wasn’t easily hidden.

On the surface, there was nothing about this man that would lead her to believe he was blight-born. He’d raised his voice to the Lord, but he’d spoken to her with such softness, even managed a smile. His eyes were kind.

“Perhaps it was someone else you saw, Lord Raunefelt?” She turned her gaze back to Ayel. “You must be rattled after such an ordeal.” She managed a sympathetic frown, hoping to defuse the tension. “Certainly the Prince will want to be informed about what you saw.”

Her gaze drifted back to the broken lock—the jagged hole splintered through the wood. She didn’t entirely believe his story, but she could not make sense of why either man would be motivated to lie to her. Ayel had a temper she did not wish to be in the crosshairs of, yet the fact that the guard claimed he’d already been told not to enter this room lingered in her mind.

She couldn't help but dig for more information.

“You said you were chasing the thief, Lord Raunefeldt? This door is… clearly broken. Did you see how they did it? If they took anything else? Or what they looked like?”

The words left her before she could stop them. Silence pressed in around her. The thought of Ayel’s anger turning on her crept cold down her spine. Her etiquette lessons whispered in the back of her mind, urging her to keep her questions proper, never pressing. She’d never fully agreed.

“It’s important,” she added, trying to soften the prying. “if someone is bold enough to force their way into the High Priestess’s chambers… they might not be finished yet.”

Her eyes darted to the guard before her, uncertain which of the two men she trusted less.

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_{Interactions: Kale @Theyra, Ayel @Dezuel}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: Alchemy Chambers > Aelios Temple}

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Slipping back into the entrance chamber, the warm glow of the hearth radiated around Nesna, forming a pointed silhouette—the tips of her wings, her elongated ears, the short horns twisting atop cascading silvery hair. Eris’ heart skipped a beat in her chest. An unbidden flash of fear caught in her throat.

She tried to recall the silhouette she’d seen lurking at her bedside. Tried to decide if Nesna had been the one who would now haunt her nightmares and the shadowed corners of her room for nights to come. Everything had been so dark. She hadn’t been prepared to analyze it at the time… but she couldn’t recall any pointed edges.

Nesna simply stood there, quietly clasping her hands together, still as stone. Despite the appearance, Eris didn’t get the sense that Nesna was a hardened criminal. It didn’t appear that she’d even moved an inch in the minutes they’d left her alone. She’d had every opportunity to rifle through cabinets and drawers, yet everything appeared in its proper place.

Then again, Eris had never been good at seeing the bad in people. She could almost hear her brother's skeptical huff of disapproval. She’d seen enough to know that the blight could change the core of who people were. Or perhaps Nesna was just very skilled in subterfuge. Just as Aurelians had always accused the Lunarians of being.

“Thank you for your patience, Nesna. My apologies.” Eris offered a sheepish smile, inclining her head in respect. She stopped several feet away—close enough, but well out of arms reach.

Eris glanced at Nathaniel as he came to stand beside her, catching his eyes already fixed on her. She swiftly tore her gaze away, shoving down the wave of embarrassment that tried to surface.

“I’m afraid I have some business to attend to.” She said, more self-assured than she felt. At the very least, she’d always managed to fake composure when it mattered most—to get away, out of sight, before the breakdown began.

“It’s been wonderful meeting you.” she added, glancing toward the door—a flicker of thought shifting across her eyes. “The Prince should be here any moment to perform the interview. I don’t… I don’t normally attend them.” Her attention returned to Nesna, hesitant to admit the detail, despite most of the town knowing it by now. “I’m sure we’ll have a chance to speak again soon. You’ll be in good hands with Nathaniel and the other Sages here while you wait.”

Turning to Nathaniel, she let a faint smile touch her lips. “Lady Rovella will see to the blight-born who’ve come for their interviews—she and Lord Galahad usually do.” She hesitated, as if she might say more, but thought better of it.

With a final nod and a small curtsy, Eris gathered her cloak tight around her shoulders and moved to the door. Hand on the door handle, she paused,then turned back to Nathaniel.

“Could you please tell Guard Hawthorne that I’ve headed into town to find Sya, when she and Hale return?”

A tinge of fear slowly crept along her spine at the thought of leaving without Charlotte at her side. It felt… unwise. But Charlotte and Zeph both had duties to attend to—neither were her personal guards. Securing the alchemy chamber perimeter mattered more than escorting her across town.

“I’ll flag down another guard to escort me,” she added quickly, catching the flicker of concern that passed over his face. “Thank you.”

Before he could answer or offer an alternative, she slipped outside and shut the door behind her. The snow settling onto the landscape and drifting from the sky seemed to swallow sound with it. Her world became narrow. Quiet. Dark.

She pulled her hood up, drawing a steadying breath as her hands slid into her pockets. Her fingers worked restlessly—Tia’s hairpins in one hand, the cold gemstone in the other.

She needed to find Sya.
Needed to find Tia.
Needed to find the Prince.

So much to do.
So little time.
And even less strength.

But first—she needed a guard.

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Luckily, one of those guards had been happy to escort her. An older Aurelian man, glad for a task other than trudging the same patrol route for hours. Along the way he’d told her small pieces of himself—where in Aurelia he hailed from, what he thought of the blight-born, about the family he’d never had, and how she’d reminded him of his sister. It was a pleasant reprieve from the nerves skittering through her mind.

He’d even helped her poke her head into the tavern to ask after Sya. One of the workers pointed them toward the hot springs, and now they stood before the large temple doors.

Eris gave him a deep bow, thanking him and inviting him for tea at the Alchemy Chambers whenever he needed a break from the cold. As he took his leave, she turned back to the temple and pulled the heavy doors open.

Stepping inside, she pulled her snow-dusted hood down. Warmth enveloped her in a rush of heat against numb skin. Her eyes found the eternal flame in the center of the chamber, cheeks flush from the cold. The heels of her boots softly clicked against the wooden floors as she moved closer.

Scanning the chamber, she found a dark haired guard lingering along the wall. She gave him a polite nod in greeting, a friendly smile on her lips. Though he was a welcome sight, she couldn’t help but wonder if putting guards within the temple was a new directive due to what had happened yesterday—or if it was just a Dawnhaven rule she hadn’t noticed before.

Admittedly, she had spent little time in Aelios’ temple since arriving here. She’d only found it in herself to pray in private. But the blaze of the eternal flame reminded her of home, in some small way. She tried to hold onto the feeling, if only for a second, and told herself that she would come more often.

But nearby rustling ripped her back into the present.

The sound of cabinets shutting, somewhere down the hallway that led to the private quarters. Excitement bloomed in her chest—she’d been so hopeful that she’d find the High Priestess here when she’d heard Sya was in this area. Crossing two items off her long list of tasks would have been ideal.

Taking a few steps toward the hall, Eris cast a quick glance at the guard — making sure he wasn’t about to stop her. But he hadn’t moved, and seemed more interested in who was coming in and out of the temple rather than what she did within it.

Continuing forward, she followed the dim flicker of candlelight down the hall. With each step, a chill crept across her skin. A reminder that another creature might be lingering in the shadows of this room too.

Her steps slowed as an open door came within view. Where the lock should have been was only a jagged hole, wood splintered in a circular shape.

Her fingers tightened around the items in her pockets, pulse suddenly hammering in her ears. She stopped dead in her tracks, glancing back down the hall. The guard was out of sight now, but not far. She could call for him. She should. Yet her voice felt stuck inside her throat. A breath held in place, her feet frozen to the floor.

Slowly, she turned back toward the door, forcing air into her lungs.

Surely no one could’ve broken in with a guard so close by… right? No. Perhaps… perhaps Tia had simply lost her key. They’d had to force the door open. That had to be it.

Of course it was.
She was being silly. Paranoid.

Taking a brave step forward, she stood in the doorway. The room beyond was dark, lit only by the glow of dying embers in the hearth. She scanned for the source of the sound—

Eris squeaked, stumbling a few steps back, her heart lurching into her throat.

Something ghostly white was standing near a dresser and—

“L—Lord Raunefeldt?”

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_{Interactions: Nesna @enmuni, Nathaniel @Echotech71, Kale @Theyra, Ayel @Dezuel
Mentions: Sya @PrinceAlexus, Charlotte @SpicyMeatball}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Collab between @The Muse and @c3p-0h
_{Location: Outside the Jail}

Part III

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Sparing Daphne, Dyna and Ranni the small details, Flynn kept his explanation brief, pared down to what mattered most: Aliseth was a threat. A possible blight-born. Using blood and/or psychic magic. He was to be apprehended and approached with the utmost caution. If it could be avoided, they did not want more deaths added to the growing tally.

As he finished, one of the knights stepped forward, urging him and Amaya to leave the area immediately—that their safety was the highest priority. Flynn had just turned to Amaya, words half formed on his lips as he caught a flash of something in her eyes, when the jail door opened.

His head snapped toward the doorway, hand instinctively moving to the hilt at his side. A guard beside the door went flying, armor clattering as he landed in a nearby snowdrift.

As the guard clumsily tried to get back on his feet, Flynn’s eyes shifted back to the door. Amused ghostly eyes stared back at him, framed by blond hair. Flynn’s gaze narrowed, the grip on his sword tightening. Though he hadn’t fully drawn his blade, the remaining knights had.

Flynn shifted, taking another small but deliberate step in front of Amaya. Every muscle braced as the prisoner’s smug, taunting words rolled out. Every syllable pure mockery.

When Gadez pointed Ranni out with a thinly veiled threat, Flynn’s gaze flicked to Dyna, gauging her reaction—or lack thereof. Like him, she stood as a shield between the jail and a person she couldn’t afford to lose.

Drawing in a quiet breath to steady his pounding heart, Flynn slid his attention back to Gadez. Nerves eased, replaced by a rising tide of disdain as the man put on yet another show—theatrical movements, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. As if this were all just a game.

"The wolf howled it's warning cry, and asked me to pass it to you. That he is coming for you. That he will learn the truth."

Flynn’s mind raced. Had Gadez been working with Aliseth? For how long? If not, why had Aliseth let him walk free? And what was Aliseth doing inside the jail now? What truth did he seek?

Behind him, Amaya watched it all with frozen muscles and quick eyes. Her fingers twitched at her side, desperate to reach for Flynn, to pull him back from Gadez’s taunting words and flashing gaze — or to secure herself more surely to him, and hide beneath his shadow.

She flicked her gaze to Daphne. When the squire had emerged, fear had wrapped itself around Amaya’s heart. Daphne had been alone, vulnerable and magicless, in the jail with a murderous blight-born who could change his face and alter the minds of others. What better opportunity would there have been to strike? To feed? Amaya thought of the second corpse in the Moon Temple, his face made unrecognizable only to be donned by his killer.

Who was to say that this was Daphne at all?

But Gadez’s reveal had doused that fear so thoroughly that it nearly drowned her. If the blight-born had killed her, then surely he wouldn’t have left the prisoner alive — let alone freed him. She doubted he’d choose to impersonate a prisoner either, before going on to make such a spectacle of himself.

The force of Amaya’s relief nearly set her off balance. Soft words, an open gaze, the simple offering of shared food… Amaya had already begun to mourn their loss without realizing it.

Tearing her gaze away from Daphne, Amaya forced her attention back on the scene playing out — the danger hadn’t yet passed. The prisoner talked and talked, as ice blue eyes catalogued the souls and ice around them.

If Daphne and Gadez were alive and whole… what of the blight-born?

Flynn’s jaw clenched as Gadez addressed Amaya, though he didn’t dare look back at her — the growing chill at his back was unmistakable. His eyes never left Gadez, listening as he offered suggestions on how to deal with the blight-born. Speaking as if he were some omniscient being.

Everything in Flynn’s body coiled as a chuckle escaped Gadez’s mouth. Disgust reflected plainly in his expression, losing grip on what was left of calculated control.

“Why did he let you free?” The question was curt. His voice low, edged with heated skepticism.

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_{Interactions: Dyna, Ranni @Queen Arya, Daphne @PrinceAlexus, Gadez @Dezuel}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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_{Location: Eye of the Beholder > Seluna Temple}

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Keep moving.

Kira slipped from the tavern without a glance back, her pace deliberately casual.

Keep. Fucking. Moving.

Venom laced every corner of her mind. Despite the turmoil searing her from the inside, she kept her expression carefully neutral. Hidden within coat pockets, her fists curled into tight fists—nails digging painful crescents into her palms.

A relief.

Something that demanded focus. Something to erase the feeling of Katherine’s fingers sliding against hers. Something to keep from turning back and snapping her neck.

Beyond the town square, free from the suffocating weight of the tavern, a shaky breath escaped past her lips. Pain splintered through her chest, burning white hot inside her lungs. She gasped—sharp and short—then clamped her mouth shut. Another gasp threatened to tear apart her composure, but she strangled it down, pressing a hand to her chest.

Weak.

Her steps faltered, the hand over her chest gripping into the fabric of her coat.

Stopping in the middle of the road, she turned to look down the torchlit path she’d come. The tavern loomed far in the distance. Bright, warm and welcoming.

Her jaw clenched. She bit back the urge to think of Katherine—of what was to come, of everything she’d ever lost.

Anger surged in time with her breath.
She leaned into it. Let it wrap its familiar arms around her.
Let it clear her mind and strengthen her backbone.

Releasing the grip on her coat, she turned her palm over and examined the shallow cuts where her nails had bit. Blood welled within the gouges. For a few beats, she stared—eyes glazing over, expression hardening. A plan forming.

Reaching inward, she tugged the invisible thread that bound her to the Lunarian guard. Followed it until she felt his emotions, heard his thoughts—saw through his eyes.

As expected, he’d done exactly as she’d instructed. Waiting like a dog, pathetically sat on her doorstep, snow-dusted from the time he’d mindlessly wasted there.

She wrapped herself around his psyche, sinking poisonous claws into all the frail parts of his subconscious. His mind sparked—pain registered, a flicker of confusion, a twitch of fear, and then… relaxation. Submission.

A single silent command pulsed down the thread. He rose.
She tossed their bond aside, snapping back into her own body—and tried to ignore the echo of his uncertainty lingering like a parasite in the back of her mind.

Lifting her gaze, she studied a fork in the road. One path led further west, into quiet neighborhood streets. Another diverged south, toward the temple of Seluna.

She exhaled slowly, forcing her nerves to calm with each drawn out second. An eerily quiet minute passed—choices weighed.

Then, she turned south.

Each step fed the fire in her chest until it no longer burned. It stabilized. Fury had often been an ally. It gave purpose. A path made clear within the chaos. A home to tuck herself away in.

But as the temple neared, Kira’s stride slowed. Awareness rippled through her—a group of heartbeats in the distance, a scent standing far above the rest.

Familiar. Tempting. Dangerous.

Her pupils dilated. Thoughts fractured between desire and discipline.

Elara was close.

As the group came into view, Kira locked her gaze forward. The handmaiden stood off the main path, flanked by two guards and two women Kira didn’t recognize—one unmistakably blight-born.

For the briefest moment her gaze flicked to Elara, but she wrenched it forward again, refusing to stray from the path. If fury could not overcome the curse of her rebirth, then distance would be her shield.

The doors to the Seluna temple loomed ahead, dark, barely touched by the moon's light. By the time she reached them, the fire in her chest had cooled into something quieter—sharper. She pushed them open and slipped inside.

Across the inner chamber, the moon pool shimmered beneath the open dome, swallowing each snowflake that drifted onto its surface. The air inside was frigid and damp, carrying the mineral tang of still water—and the stench of death.

Kira’s gaze swept the room. Two bodies lay to the far left, hidden beneath a dark sheet. Otherwise, the temple appeared to be empty.

Stepping forward, her gaze flicked back to the moon pool.

In front of it, Kira gracefully lowered herself onto her knees, tucking her legs beneath her. She rested her hands atop her thighs, posture straight, gaze fixed on the still water.

“May she strip us of the shadows we carry.” she whispered, barely audible despite the silence.

Expressionless, she began to unbutton her coat. When finished, she folded it neatly and set it to her right. Then her shirt, laid on top. From her waistband she withdrew a dagger, placing that carefully over top. Each motion unhurried and deliberate.

Rising to her feet with ritual grace, she began removing her boots. Then her pants. Another dagger hidden at her ankle. Lastly, her undergarments. Each item folded neatly beside the other stack of clothing and weapon.

Completely naked, her skin prickled as the cold bit into her pale skin. Tilting her head back, she gazed up through the dome. The moon lingered high above, a pale blur behind thick cloud cover.

“Grant us the strength to endure what has come… and what is yet to pass.”

Her eyes lowered back to the pool. Her reflection stared back, the glow of her fire-bright eyes haloed by the temples surrounding candlelight.

Once, Seluna’s temples had been sacred to her. When Aelios offered her no salvation, this became her refuge. A sanctuary to clear her mind and center herself. At times she still yearned for the vast temple in the capital. But now…

Her tongue ran over the sharp edges of her fangs. Elara’s face intruded her mind. She shoved the thought down.

Seluna would undoubtedly deny her entry now. Priests and Priestesses’ would beg for their lives or command her to end her own life if she sought to honor their Goddess. Or turn her over to the bounty hunters.

Kira had not come to the temple since arriving in Dawnhaven. Out of respect. Out of fear.
But now…

Without hesitation, Kira stepped forward and submerged herself into the pool.

Ice swallowed her whole. She stifled the gasp that tore at her throat, forcing herself to sink until the water brushed her chin. Pain speared every inch of her body, needles stabbing deep as her muscles contracted. Her body screamed to escape, but she fought against instinct.

Closing her eyes, she forced herself to focus on the rhythm of her breath.

Inhale through the nose. Hold. Exhale slow.
Again. And again.
Until the panic waned and the shivers steadied. Only then did she open her eyes.

Calmer—numb—she leaned back against the stone rim and tilted her head back. Gazing up, she watched the snowflakes descend to meet her. And waited.

Realms of Sun & Shadow

@Lightning Fast Just messaged you on discord to work out a couple things! :)

Realms of Sun & Shadow

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

Part II

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A violent thought struck like lightning.

Blood hitting the wall. Splattered across the table. Dripping warm between Kira’s fingers. Her old friend’s body crumpled in a pool of crimson, lifeless and still.

Kat’s hands were soft in hers, fingers still loosely intertwined with one another.

In one swift motion, she could drag her across the table.
Slip a dagger free. Drive it into her throat.
End it now.
Flee Dawnhaven.
Flee Lunaris.
Disappear and hope they’d eventually stop looking.

Maybe she’d even be doing Kat a favor. Severing blood magic wasn’t easily done.

And if they were watching through Kat's eyes… then they’d already seen what Kira had become. Her appearance hadn’t changed much, but her eyes, her fangs—dead giveaways. Blight-born. A brand she couldn’t hide.

They wouldn’t just want to find her.
They’d want to kill her.
Or worse—return her to her place alongside the King and put her back to work.

Jericho hated blight-born, but what about the ones he could control?

Her fingers curled tighter into Kat’s—nails pressing into flesh.
But… she hesitated.

Dawnhaven was meant to be a refuge.
Jericho had sworn not to touch the blight-born within its walls.
Could the Sun Prince’s protection still extend to her?

The King couldn’t just drag her out without challenging Flynn—and possibly all of Aurelia.
Could he?

Her grip softened.

“Care to share a drink with me?” she asked, nodding to the small bottle of Sya’s alcohol.

Within Kat’s palm, Kira tapped out her own message.

Your thoughts. Safe?

There was no doubt in Katherine’s mind that her life was currently held in the balance of Kira’s thoughts. While it was the first time she’d felt it directed at herself, she’d seen the cold look of calculation in Kira’s eyes before. She knew Kira had the ability to end her life without so much as a whisper of sound, and she knew that it would be over before she could even think to react.

And yet, a large part of her still believed there was a lingering trust between them.

“I’m not sure the people of Dawnhaven would appreciate one of their priestesses drinking in plain sight, but the thought is appreciated,” Katherine let a warm smile sneak through, this time a bit more genuine. The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the edge of Kira’s lips in response—sincere, but guarded. As Katherine spoke, her fingers moved with a practiced rhythm as she quickly replied in secret.

For now, yes. She paused for a moment, glancing around the room. Blood magic is weak now. Inquisition still far away, in the capital.

While she could still feel the presence in her mind, it was oddly quiet. It was a relief for the moment, but silence was rarely a good thing when it came to her superiors.

Kira let her gaze drop from Kat’s face, focusing once more on the coin sitting between them.
It was a small relief, she supposed, that Kat’s thoughts were still her own.
For now.

The Inquisition were experts in their craft. They both knew it wouldn’t last forever.
Which meant Kat remained firmly on the wrong side of the fence.

The feeling wasn’t exactly unfamiliar.
Growing up, they’d had a tumultuous relationship. Often pitted against each other during training, they’d been forced into rivalry. Both of them desperate to prove their worth to masters who demanded nothing but excellence.

Eventually, though, something shifted. Regardless of the competition for survival, they’d been able to find common ground.

Kira still vividly remembered that summer night. Finding Kat stretched out on the palace rooftop, hands tucked casually behind her head, quietly watching the stars. The same spot Kira had snuck off to countless times before.

It was the first time they’d spoken like humans. Not tools. Not spies.
They’d forged something there. A strange form of friendship, built outside the cold stone walls of the palace, whispering to each other under the rare warmth of Seluna’s night sky.

Kira’s eyes lifted. A thought sparked.

She possessed blood “magic” now, too—technically. The very thing the blight had granted her that she now loathed… but could it be used to sever a blood tie? Replace it with another? Or would she only be forcing two unwelcome parasites into Kat’s mind?

Her gaze flicked to Kat’s jugular, then back to her eyes.
She shoved the thought down.

“Right… I nearly forgot how boring you could be.” She teased, giving Kat’s hand a gentle, deliberate squeeze—lingering in the hold.

Kat was likely the closest Kira had ever come to a best friend.

But she couldn’t afford to treat her like one. Not now.
Never again—not while she remained tied to the King.

A dull ache coiled tight inside her chest. Then, slowly, she pulled her hand back—severing their connection, abruptly ending their coded exchange.

For both of their sakes.
The less Kat knew, the better.

Immediately, she felt a familiar cold slide back into place. A piece of armor snapping into position. A shell of ice wrapped tight around her body, smothering that fragile ache—detaching her from the weak sentiment of friendship. Making distance where warmth had tried to live.

“I didn’t realize it was you I saw with that body yesterday.” She mused, leaning back in her chair, recalling seeing a disheveled Priestess from afar. “Did you see the attack?”

Kat felt the same shift in the air as Kira’s hand withdrew, warmth fading from her eyes. A hint of disappointment lingered in her gaze as she let a moment of silence blanket them. The only person who held any familiarity from her past, pushed away because of the passenger that tormented her mind. She felt the distrust as quickly as the lump in her throat grew, but quickly blinked away any indication of tears welling in her eyes before shaking her head.

“No, I just heard a scream, she swallowed hard, looking down, “By the time I arrived, whatever had transpired was done and gone.” As she spoke, her tone quickly returned to one of rehearsed normalcy. Whatever emotion she’d felt was quickly shoved aside, replaced with the same fakeness that Kira had returned to.

It was almost like looking in a mirror. While Katherine was no match for Kira in combat, the two were trained practically side-by-side in manipulating social interactions. Kat could see every bit of it on display before her, just as she had no doubt that Kira could see it from her side.

Kira was treating her—perceiving her—as an enemy. And Katherine couldn’t blame her.

But Goddess, did it hurt to see.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that I didn’t see you watching. She paused for a moment in slight realization, her eyes lowering a moment, “How much did you see?”

Kira glanced at the bottle of alcohol on the table, her mind drifting back to the gruesome scene from the night before. The overwhelming scent of blood had drawn her from across town, relentlessly pulling at her senses.

She hadn’t dared to get closer.

“I s—”
She stopped short, eyes lifting to meet Kat’s. Another flicker of hesitation.

They already knew she was blight-born.
That didn’t mean she had to tell them (Kat) what type.

“I didn’t linger for long.” The response was safe. Vague.
Not truly an answer.

She shifted in her seat, then reached forward and slid the coin toward her side of the table, studying it curiously. “I hear they still haven’t caught the culprit.”

A pause as she inspected the coin.

“Shame.” The word came dry, devoid of empathy.

Losing herself in thought, she turned the coin over in her fingers. Worn, you could just barely make out the face of young Auric Astaros on one side of it. Specks of dirt, or blood—or both—lingered in the crevices.

After a few breaths, she flicked it into the air and caught it cleanly in one hand.

For a moment, she didn’t move.
Just stared blankly at her closed fist.

“It’s nice to see you, Kat.”

She turned her hand over and opened it.
Heads.

With a soft clink, she set the coin gently back on the table, then slid it across the surface toward Kat. “Keep it.”

Her hand withdrew. Her gaze lifted, holding Kat’s in silence.

She watched the way the candlelight danced shadows across her beautiful, deceivingly delicate face. Memorizing her friend _(enemy) like it might be the last time she’d get the chance.
She’d already decided that it would be.

Pulling her gaze away, she reached for the bottle, tucked it into her coat pocket, and began to rise from her chair.

“I’ll see you around, then.”

She didn’t mean it.
She had no intention of coming near Katherine again.

Katherine saw the signs, the movement that was too fluid, too intentional. It was a retreat, as much as it hurt to see it.

Without hesitation, Katherine’s hand shot out, fingers curling around Kira’s wrist, gentle but firm. Kira froze solid under her touch. Eyes of fire snapped to hers—lethal, unblinking.

A silent warning.
A promise of violence.

“I’m not your enemy, Kira.” Her voice was quiet, almost fragile beneath the surface.

Kira’s heart pounded like thunder in her ears.
Adrenaline surged.

Her master’s voice whispered in the back of her mind. A scoff. A laugh.
How silly it was, to befriend someone. To care.

A familiar path presented itself to her. A fork in the road.
She’d chosen friendship once.
Like a fool.

In the stillness, Katherine felt the weight of the crumbling connection between them on her chest, one that grew fainter and fainter like a candle burning the last measure of its wick. She hadn’t expected kindness or trust, but something about Kira’s demeanor, about the way she looked back at her, cut deeper than Katherine had prepared for.

She knew why Kira no longer trusted her. The two were cut from the same cloth, both honed to be silent weapons to the King. The robe she wore and the amulet that adorned her neck did little to hide the shadow of the Inquisition that trailed behind her. A sign most wouldn’t even think to look for, but that Kira would know for certain.

Trust faltered easily when both hearts were trained to listen for lies.

“If nothing else, know that.”

Kira ripped her wrist free from Kat’s grasp.

“No,” She hissed through her teeth, eyes narrowing. “You only brought the enemy straight to me.” Her voice was low, meant only for Katherine—seething with rage.

And something she hadn’t fully felt in two years.
Fear.

“I was supposed to be dead.”
She was supposed to be free.

“I know!” Katherine’s voice raised for a single instant before she caught herself, emotions flaring inside. A moment of silence passed, before she spoke again, her voice now soft and low once more, “I know.”

Katherine raised her eyes back to Kira’s, looking past the ire that had risen within, “Whatever shadows come looking, they’ll find me first—not you. I will make sure of it.”

The words left her mouth softer than she expected, yet beneath them she still felt the steel of her resolve. She wasn’t sure if Kira would hear the promise in her voice or only the echo of a veiled reassurance, but Katherine hoped that the sincerity of it reached Kira. Though there was no certainty that it was a promise she could keep, there were no lies in her words.

Something twisted painfully inside Kira’s chest. She had never been inclined to protect Katherine, but this—
She swallowed the feeling down, buried it deep.

It wasn’t an if they came—it was when. And they both knew it.

She stared at Katherine, listening to the unsteady rhythm of her heartbeat. The shallow breaths. Watched the way the candlelight seemed to illuminate the desperation—the sincerity—in Katherine’s eyes.

But they were nothing, if not fantastic liars.

“Let them come.” She held Katherine’s gaze, a challenge burning in hers. “Don’t get in the way.”

She turned, hesitating for a brief moment, then said coldly over her shoulder:

“Don’t come near me again, Cricket.”

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Dawnhaven's Best

_{Featuring: Captain Darius Holt}

---

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_{Location: Eastern Gate}

---

---

Captain Darius Holt arrived within moments, two younger Aurelian archers at his back, their boots crunching over packed snow as they ascended the battlement steps. Coswain’s voice carried across the wall, but Holt barely spared him a glance. He was sure the Lunarian noble knew how to command a wall, but here, Holt made the calls.

When the newcomer stepped into the light and named himself a blademaster of Xal’ara, Holt’s jaw tightened.

Xal’ara. The Desert Jewel, they called it. An ancient city of stone, half-buried in sand, blessed by the relentless heat of Aelios. To Holt it was little more than a nest of vipers—beautiful from a distance, poisonous up close. Even the Church could not cleanse the rot from its streets.

Still, anyone hardened by that place often came out sharper than most. Dangerous steel, if it could be turned the right way.

And Holt had to admit—this one did carry himself like a blademaster. The stance. The way his eyes measured every guard in sight. Dangerous, yes, but if he were pledging himself to the Prince, then perhaps useful too.

“You’ve marched a day,” He said, voice flat. “Then you can stand another minute.”

“Plenty come to Dawnhaven claiming loyalty to His Highness,” Holt went on, his gaze fixed and unblinking. “Some mean it. Some don’t.” He studied the man for a few silent beats, searching for the tell.

“Still… A blademaster of Xal’ara could be valuable. Dawnhaven needs every sword it can get.”

Finally, Holt gave a sharp nod to the men below at the winch. The timbers groaned, the gates opening slow and heavy. “You’ll have your chance to prove yourself.”

He motioned Farrion through. “Head to the tavern in the square. Eye of the Beholder. You’ll find warmth and food. Your name goes on the list. When there’s a home to give, you’ll be assigned one. Until then, make do at the Eye.”

One hand resting easy on his sword hilt, his brown eyes never left Farrion as he approached the threshold.

---

_{Interactions: Coswain @PrinceAlexus, Arthur @TimelessParagon}

Realms of Sun & Shadow

Collab between @enmuni, @Echotech71, & @The Muse
_{Location: Alchemy Chambers}

Part III

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Nathaniel looked down at the gem resting in Eris' palm, his hand raised up placing his palm under the back of her hand. There was a hint of curiosity in his gaze, then his gaze lifted up to meet Eris. ”It's a beautiful looking gem. But something is off.” he paused, brow furrowing. ” This gem is well cut, whoever left it perhaps they took it to a gem cutter. Not to mention since they left it in care, it'll likely have magic purposes…

Nathaniel smiled slightly Apologies for the ramble. But that requires knowledge of that sort of thing.

“If there is magical purpose to it… I can’t seem to feel it.” Eris said softly, staring down at the gem, brows drawn in thought—barely registering the warmth of Nathaniel’s hand beneath hers.

These days, it was hard to tell whether her magical sense was faltering due the disappearance of Aelios… or simply from her own exhaustion.

Or, perhaps, nothing was wrong at all and there was truly nothing there to feel within the stone.
Still…

She closed her hand around the gem and slipped it back into her coat pocket, fingers brushing against folded parchment hidden within. Something she hadn’t noticed sitting underneath the gemstone until Penelope had lifted the stone to test for enchantment traps.

In her quarters, under candle light, she’d read the note with Penelope. Then again. And again.

The handwriting itself seemed to be feminine—albeit rather messy.
But the content was… the musings of a madman. Or perhaps an imaginative writer.

It contained a vivid account of someone touching the gemstone, paired with sketches of strange runes in the margins. Two Eris recognized. The rest were entirely foreign.

Neither she nor Lady Rovella had felt—or saw—anything upon touching the stone. And neither knew what to make of the note.

It was… something. And someone had left it specifically for her, unwilling to be caught.
But why—and who?

For now, Eris felt it best to keep the note to herself.

With her hand still closed around the gem in her pocket, it warmed against her palm as she spoke again.

“Perhaps the stonemason might know about the type of stone it is,” She murmured to herself in thought, stepping past Nathaniel and returning to the hearth. “It seems valuable… strange to leave it behind.”

Nathaniel turned as he watched Eris walk past him, he could tell what she was doing, he saw that gleam, that spark of intrigue that causes the person's thoughts to rapidly collect. Amongst the other sages he worked with in Aurelia. The only thing to do was wait.

Bit by bit, her thoughts began to spiral—obsess. The instinct to retreat rose quickly. To isolate, to lock herself away in the upper quarters of the tower where her private collection of books, herbs, potions and lab equipment could keep her company.

But etiquette held her in place.

She turned to face Nathaniel and Nesna, hands still buried in her coat pockets. “Well… would either of you like some tea while we wait for Guard Hale and Hawthorne to return? I should prepare some for them. It’s so dreadfully cold…”

Nathaniel was caught a bit off guard by that question. He thought that would involve something to do with this gemstone. Certainly not tea. Perhaps there was something a bit more. His eyes kept on Eris then on Lady Rovella. Nathaniel had some knowledge on what kind of character she was.

”Tea would be nice, thank you. Likely when the others come back they'll need a hot brew of tea to help chase the cold away.”

“Yes, yes please,” Nesna seconded.

Eris offered a small smile, already stepping toward a kitchen nook tucked just around the corner. Opening a cabinet, she retrieved a tin of dried leaves—begrudgingly choosing not to use the last drop of her magic to brew it this time.

“This gemstone that was left behind, was there anything else? Something that could be used as instructions? It would seem rather redundant to give someone an objective without the guidance or knowledge of how to use it.”

Eris faltered, nearly letting the tin slip through her fingers. She bit her lower lip and stared at the water as she filled the kettle.

Lying had never come easy. Goddess, she hated it.

But it was for the best… right?
The note could be nothing and then she’d gone and worked everyone up for no reason…

“Instructions…. no…” she said after a pause, voice thoughtful.

It wasn’t a lie. The note didn’t read like instructions of any kind. It barely even made sense.
And thankfully, she’d managed to avoid directly answering the true question.

“You think they left it to give me an objective? To…. use it?” She leaned back to peer around the corner, meeting his gaze curiously before disappearing again behind the wall and returning to the tea.

A few moments later, she made her way back to the hearth, kettle in hand. Quietly, she set the kettle onto an iron hook over the fire and watched as the flames licked at the bottom.

“Perhaps it’s…. symbolic?” she murmured, considering his idea. “Or… a gift?”

She cringed at the idea, shaking her head. That had to be wrong. What an odd way to receive a gift, if it was.

Burying her hands in her coat pockets, she let her fingers brush gently against the smooth, faintly warm gemstone.
With the way it’d be left for her, it felt less like a gift… and more like a warning.

Her eyes lifted to Nathaniel, studying him—perhaps for a moment too long as her mind shifted through thoughts.

He was meant to be her counterpart. A fellow Sage, highly accomplished. Someone to lessen the burden of it all. And so far, he’d tried. He’d sat beside her and helped plan out the expedition, scribbled lists by candlelight, and asked thoughtful questions.

Guilt settled heavy in her chest.

Maybe it was time she let the other Sages help her. Maybe she owed him a chance.

Her eyes shifted to Nesna—still standing politely off to the side, wings tucked closely to her body. Despite the blight-born’s perfectly pleasant demeanor, unease still remained sharp in the back of Eris’ mind. Deliberately, she’d been keeping her distance the entire time, careful not to pass within arms reach.

“Nathaniel… ” Her voice came softly as she returned her attention to him, expression unreadable. “May I speak with you… privately? For a moment.”

Nathaniel paused momentarily as his gaze shifted to her, his eyes locking on hers, then he nodded to her. “Of course Eris.” he said softly to her.

“Lead the way.”