Fantasy Harmonia : The Story (In-Character Closed)

[Colorless Spectrum]

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[div class=cont]Chapter 1: The Karavan Festival

Marchello 10, DY74

The day has finally arrived for the event all have been waiting for. People had been ever so busy with doubling patrol for the borders and the townspeople setting up shop. It was amazing how a celebration can bring the most different of people together. "Ah, Yuann!" Waved an elderly woman from the other side of the street. Perking up at the sight of the female hybrid that everybody knows. Wearing her usual newsboy cap and white scarf, Yuann energetically stepped to the old woman with a goofy grin on her face. "Missus Meed! I see you've set up your shop so wonderfully." And she wasn't lying. The bakery smelled heavenly and the place was beautifully decorated with a few flowers and festive designs. "I might just not leave the place if I go here to eat some pastries." She quipped, while the woman does have a wondrous skill in baking, she could not just stay and have fun as she did before.

After a few more minutes of conversation, it was time to go. She had dawdled enough and things still had to be prepared. "I'd love to stay and chat," she said before revealing a handful of letters, "but these still need to be delivered today."

"Oh of course, but here. Some food to go as knowing you, you haven't eaten."

The hybrid shook her head with a smile, bidding a thank you and farewell for the bag of pastries she had been given. As she walked around, taking a lookout for any oddities that might destroy the aesthetic of the booths. Everything needed to be perfect, it’s not like this happens yearly. After a few more greetings with the people, she ducked around an alleyway and fished out a Palkos Mask and cloak that she uses when she shows herself as the third and newest Thyrean leader. That's right, unlike before she has responsibilities now, big ones. And it's still quite an adjustment for her to this day. The Hybrid walked through the hidden pathways she took to get to the Council Room. "Greetings fellow council members, Kiva, Lucielle." She greeted sweetly to the two women who were more experienced and wiser than her, or so she likes to think.

"How are things going for both of you?" She takes off her mask and reveals a smile to her two companions.

Kiva had gotten up much earlier than expected. It seemed like events like these brought her into a mini frenzy, and instead of enjoying sleep before the festival began, she was working on weapons, checked out the defenses, and mentally preparing herself to have to speak and be present as one of the three Thyrean leaders. She had been confused when they picked her, out of everyone. She assumed it was her father’s influence. But no matter the reason, Kiva had to pretend like she truly knew what she was doing.

She knew weapons, and she knew armor. Blacksmithing was in her bones. Not leading. It was easier with Lucielle and Yuann by her side, at least. The two had a better knack for...people. Kiva wasn’t as friendly or good at empathizing. She was thankfully learning from them how to do a better job.

She was still in the midst of her preparation when Yuann finally made her way to them in the Council Room. Kiva looked up from sharpening her favorite sword, the habit has a way of soothing her nerves, as Yuann greeted them. She blinked as she smelled...sweets? Was Yuann holding out on her?

“You know. The defenses are fine as per usual because Lucielle is on top of things.” She replied. And Yuann did know. Kiva wasn’t for this life, or so she assumed. Socialization outside of weaponry wasn’t easy for her. She never did like having to be out there for these festivals. Yuann, if anything, was the talker. But, for a sweet, maybe she’d be in better spirits…or maybe she was just hungry.

“One of those pastries might help my nerves, though.”

The youngest of the three couldn't help but give a giggle, "You can have it."

Heavy footsteps could be heard, it was evenly timed like a metronome. "Leaders! All Egnarions within the forest are all accounted for and amiable." This is good news if the Egnarions where hostile, the event would have to be moved or more patrols would be stationed near the forest. "All booths have finished setting up and people are eager to attend the festivities from both sides." Even better news. Conflict during the festival has become smaller and smaller over the years, which makes the Thyrean vision of peace more possible in the future.

"Excellent." The hybrid happily cheered before dismissing their subordinates.

Yuann wore her mask once again as she walks towards the balcony where a few soldiers were waiting for the signal of the start of the festival, for the strike of noon. "Sound the drums! Light up the fires! Open the gates and let the Festival begin!" People from the inside of the wall started to cheer, booths were in business as Eilows and Novushkuns come inside.

Food stands and stores are scattered all over the Market area, stores from all over Harmonia selling their unique wares, surrounding the plaza. Over by the statue of Wilhelmina is where tables, chairs, and benches are placed for those who wanted some rest and children in need of using up their energy. South of the Statue was the Thyrean park usually a place of peace and quietness was now littered with small traveling food vendors and entertainers. The Docks offer a sweet ride at the Thyrean Lake. A museum that tells the rich history of Harmonia can be found to the north of the Market area, filled with various displays of items and artifacts that happened in these lands.

It was hard not to smile at the sight of people coming together. One of the reasons why the Hybrid was glad that she was chosen to become a part of the council. Now all that is left is to wait for Orhian Royalty and Sierran leaders to start the program, all the while watching how things unfold from the balcony.



Meanwhile in the dark caverns in Harmonia were people, waiting for the right moment to strike. With the little light from the small crevice show cold golden eyes and a sadistic smile, skin with the color of an odd shade of purple and four horns protruding from his head. He gave out a laugh that would give most people chills, "It's almost time. The clock is ticking and when it strikes while the sun is at it's peak then we shall wreak havoc."
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[The One Eyed Bandit]

The sun beat down, hot and heavy. For most the Karavan Festival was a time of great celebration and companionship. It was one of the few times of the year, in history even, where the great kingdoms of Magic and Steel would lay down their arms, shake hands, and stand by one another as brother and sister.

But to one woman, clad in uniform and with iron on her hip, it was just another afternoon on the job.

Once upon a time, she might've fought for the few shifts the higher ups afforded her division during this time of year, but she'd not bothered with it for years. If you weren't one of the beloved members of the community, with whom everyone wanted to spend their time with, the Festival lost its charm soon enough. You could always get drunk on another day, and in much better company too.

So as she went about her patrol, weaving her way through the freshly bustling crowds that filled the city, she didn't feel envy. As soon as she was done with her shift, she'd be heading right home to get started on a celebration of her own. A few of her friends... Or coworkers, enough booze to kill them, and a lock set dead fast the whole night long. Masked by the chatter of the crowd, the woman let out a long, low sigh. It wasn't the most dignified or extravagant way to celebrate the togetherness of the event, but she hardly even had the fraction of the will she'd need to organize anything grander.

While her thoughts might have been elsewhere, the uniformed woman's attention was on her duties regardless. From within their own folds her eyes scanned the crowds, darting to and fro for any implication of wrongdoing or ill intent, to no avail. This wasn't her first time working the Festival, and even a grunt like herself had taken notice of the fact that things had been easing off over the past smattering of years. The gathering had been doing its job, it seemed, because with each year that passed the proverbial hatched seemed to find itself buried deeper and deeper, even if it was only by a few grains of soil at a time.

It meant an easier time for her, and supposedly a brighter future for all, so she wasn't rightly opposed.

Though, she had to admit, even for the Festival there seemed to be a... Reasonable handful of colorful characters milling about. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but ever other face in the crowd seem to... Pop, this year. She was sure it was all in her head, but it was nice to see that the people of the surrounding kingdoms hadn't grown quite so dull as the event they were here for just yet.

 

[waifu]

CECELIA
"Could it be.... have I been cursed?"

Cecelia was totally lost. She had no idea how she ended up in the middle of a forest - well, no, she had an inkling. One moment she was standing in the marketplace, the next she was faced with a dead end with nothing but trees and shrubs blocking her path. Her terrible sense of direction was no secret. "W-who wants to be on time anyway? Everyone knows important people are fashionably late," she reassured herself with a nervous laugh and retraced her steps.

"You! Lead me to this festival before I end you," Cecelia threatened a caterpillar-like egnarion with her scythe, who appeared to be completely unaware of her existence and continued to crawl away and disappear under a leaf. Defeated, Cecelia fell on the ground and wailed. She had been walking in circles for hours now. The festival was probably long over by now, and to be honest, she couldn't care less. She just wanted to get out of this place immediately. It was starting to get dark and the forest seemed like a daunting, unfriendly place to be. Covered in dirt and despair, Cecelia begged the astral plane for some sort of guidance.

As of on cue, the wind informed her of someone's presence. Cecelia jolted up at the sound of the rustling bushes; she panicked and immediately climbed up the nearest tree, landing on a thick branch. She struck a dramatic pose and utilized her wind magic to blow her long, flowy hair for dramatic effect. As the tall man finally came into view, Cecelia laughed maniacally.

"It seems like you walked right into my trap."

Mykinkaiser

 

[simj26]

CainThis was not his scene. Too noisy, too crowded, too many people, and, most of all, too much information. As he made his way through the mess of bodies that piled onto the streets, he could pick up snippets of conversations that filtered easily into his ears, speaking of gossip, excitement of today's events, and other horrible human nothings that he could care less about. Every speck of dust, grime, and mud stain on every cloak, jacket, boot, stood out to him. Of course, with his disdain for the close proximity of human interaction, he was not here for the festivities. He couldn't care any less for what the festival stood for. He couldn't care less what those old fools in their palaces and ivory towers did with their countries. They could tear each other apart, bring war to each other, and destroy each other for all he knew, and it wouldn't matter.

No. No, no, no. He was here for an entirely different matter altogether. The Flaming Demon was his target today. He had tracked that lead for weeks now, travelling between Ohr and Thyrea so often that he swore he was going to be the border guards' most favourite customer. Today, however, he was going to stay within Thyrea's borders. He couldn't really say his sources were any more accurate than the next, but most of them pointed to the fact that the Flaming Demon was going to be present amongst the crowd of people that were gathered here today for whatever the festival was about. His quarry's reasons for being here were unknown to him. How he looked like, was anyone's guess. All Cain knew, was that he was an Ohrian male, tall, handsome, muscular- very generic traits, to tell the truth. Brown hair, brown eyes, decked in Ohrian armor. The same kind of appearance any sellsword from Ohr would have. Just a glance through the turnout today allowed Cain to locate at least seven men who looked exactly like his description.

Terrible. Absolutely horrible. He had to step back from the crowd and attain a better view. He slid through the gaps, careful to keep his jacket from being dirtied by the common folk that passed him by, until he emerged through the other side. He dusted himself down, and touched his pockets, ensuring his coffers were still accounted for. Satisfied, he moved towards the closest city guard. His eyes scanned through her appearance, but swiftly made no notes on them. Uninteresting and dull. Another soldier on the payroll, just here to fill their quota of hours. Would probably go home immediately after the festival ended, or hit any bar that wasn't filled to the brim with tourists with her comrades to get sloshed after a hard day's work. He didn't envy that life.

"Guard," he addressed her, as he adjusted his tie, loosening it slightly. The air was getting awfully stagnant with all the people around. "Where do you suppose is the best vantage point around here? I want to…revel in the festivities with a bird's eye view."

The One Eyed Bandit

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Alno
interaction: open​

Hopping form vendor to vendor was a rather excitable hybrid spiked tail flicking about as he did so. Said hybrid was named Alno. He’d been rather excited to finally go to one of these festivals for some time This year finally managing to ware his father down enough to let him go alno knew that his dad wouldn’t really what to be here anyway too many people for the socially dead man. the crowds were not really that bad for the somewhat diminutive hybrid p tended to steer clear of a spiked appendage swinging about and if that failed flying was always an option.

at the moment Alno was deciding on what exactly to buy from a food vendor having already questioned them extensively about that they had much to the vendor's annoyance, eventually deciding on the usually reliable meat on a stick. once he’d paid for his food Alno flew atop a nearby build perching himself upon its roof giving him a great vantage point

 

[Trektek]

Ashley Bobothy Jr.

The festival was the perfect place and time. At least that was the main thought that was coursing through their mind. There were many such thoughts, such as how unfortunately crowded it was in this main thoroughfare at this point in time. But in fact, the main thought was that this was the perfect place and time to finally find their Queen again. The years might have gone on by since they were last together by the lakeside, but once they found her once again, things would be as they were. They were the epitome of pure perfection. A humble lowly peasant did not deserve the sort of attention and care that she gave, but clearly she thought otherwise and let them know by her repeated visits and their conversations.

In fact, Ashley's entire life was changed and upended by these very visits when she encouraged them to end the threat of continued bullying. It improved their farming in the long run. And made sure that the crops were all the tastier for it. It became a practice that they kept up on a semi regular basis when they needed more special ingredients for the growth of their plants.

The crowded street was causing all sorts of anxiety to bubble up towards the surface. The kind of anxiety that caused issues with the people around them. Something that was an unfortunate side effect of the rage that lurked just beneath the surface. Their hand went into their bag to hold onto the knife for comfort while still within the bag. It was a gift from their Queen. And something that was cherished. Each and every kill that was made with it, was in her honor.

Ashley would find her here and see her, perhaps even talk to her. She was theirs by right and noamount of time apart would change that. They were perfect together.​

 

[Songstress]

Mitheoria Selin Steorra

Where: Karavan Festival
Activity: Taking a stroll
Interactions: N/A



It hurts too much.... Oria thought as she gently touches her swollen hand.

A little while ago before heading to the festival...

"This is really hard to walk to." She murmurs as she stands in front of her reflection. She gently swings her body side to side, wearing a black kimono with a peculiar design. Oria then nears her face to the mirror and slid the hair ornament at the side of her bun."Perfect!" She said in excitement. The Karavan Festival was her most awaited event and had prepared days before, solely for this occasion. A festival where every people in Harmonia gets to socialize and enjoy different kinds of activities including booths, performances, and even food! After wearing the rest of her accessories, Oria takes a last look at the mirror leaving with a smile as she headed out of her room.

"I'm ready!" She shouted and hurries down to the stairs. However, as excitement was rushing her body, Oria lost her balance and fell three steps before reaching the ground. It wasn't a new sight for her family to see her fall and trip over nothing. But then, soon as she tumbled over the ground her hand received too much weight from her body causing it to swell afterwards. Oria felt the sharp pain on her hand as she was trying to stand. Luckily, her siblings helped her to do so. Asking if she was okay, she gave a slight nod and jiggled her hand to ease the pain. "I-It's okay I'm really fine." Oria said, wearing a strained smile. After reassuring them, she fixed her hair and patted her kimono. "Should we go now?" Their mother said.

The siblings agreed and began to head towards their carriage.

It hurts too much.... Oria thought as she gently touches her swollen hand. She gave out a sigh, turning her head to the window. Her eyes began to light up from the fascinating view she had never seen before. This journey to Thyrea was the farthest she could go. As they were waiting to reach their destination, Oria chuckles as she thought of the things she could do when they finally arrive. She hums happily appreciating the view outside of the carriage.

After some hours of trip, The Thyrean wall is finally a short distance away. Numerous lights and festive decorations are all seen within sight.

Finally, the Amier family has arrived to the Karavan Festival. As they were about to go out, Oria took a quick time to refresh her appearance, and as the door was slowly opened for them by the stagecoach, chatters from the crowd are heard along with the festive musics being played by other people. Oria, full of joy and excitement, hurriedly went down and treasured the view she gets to see. The event that is the most awaited time of the year. A festival that is only celebrated once in a decade. The Karavan Festival.

"Woah." Oria expressed as she was captivated by everything, from booths to food stalls, and from music to people. How amazing it was for her that all races gets to be together in one occasion. Without any more time to waste, they were given permission to roam around and experience everything that is offered by the festival. Oria then darted ahead of her family and began to ramble through different booths.

As she was occupied by strolling around, her arm was carelessly bumped by a stranger and caused a sharp pain from the swelling. Oria quickly held her hand close to her chest, biting her lip. However, as she finally calmed down, she slowly turned around and saw faces she had no idea of. Panicking at the moment, she first stood beside the wave of crowd and plead that they would hopefully pass by her.

Oria sat beside the stall worried and restless with a grumbling stomach and no money to even buy for food. So much for Karavan Festival. Oria murmured, letting out a deep sigh. ​

 

[soggyparadise]

A whirlwind of sounds and lights overwhelmed Theodore, the shut in only used to his quiet little apartment, in which the only consistent sounds were the tacking of a typewriter and the creaking of the old floor boards as he moved about from book shelf to towering bookshelf. But now he was out of his element- the reason for which was unknown to him. Of course he could deduce this was the Karavan festival, the aroma of the foods on the carts that lined the street along with the excitable crowds that filled in any gaps between them was clue enough; however why he would've ever left the relative safety of his home was beyond him. This big of a crowd was basically a minefield for him, every single person having their own lives; their own futures, that could trigger a debilitating vision with the simple brush of their arm against his own. Yet still he push on, seemingly having an unknown need to continue down this crowded avenue.
Deep brown eyes blinked and as they were closed he saw a younger female who looked oh so familiar and yet foreign at the same time, her hand which seemed red and swollen clutched to her chest as she looked at the crowd surrounding her, the hairpin decorating her lovely hairstyle a smidge off center.
Then his eyes opened and suddenly he was no longer in the crowded street but instead in a cul de sac he could recognize as where his publisher's shop was, it's sign in view yet obscured by the head of the man whom he was looking up at. Looking up at from the ground- and yet he couldn't remember when he'd fallen in the first place. The man's face was cast in shadow, making it impossible to get a read on his expression however before Theodore could snap out of his daze and scrambled back to his feet a tanned hand, adorned with rings that could likely buy his library of books he'd accrued over the years, reached out to him. Hesitantly he reached out to it, the moment before their hands touched seemingly dragging on for an eternity before finger tip brushed finger tip and like a punch in the head Theodore received a mess of information much to quickly to discern anything of worth from it. Three people in fancy clothes, their faces shrouded in shadow, a home so enormous he'd think only someone as important as a king could live there, and then what appeared to be the summit of a mountain, the sky above him devoid of stars like an endless void waiting to swallow him.

And then he was awake. The familiar surroundings of his apartment blurry as he squinted his eyes in the sun from his window that filtered in through translucent curtains and shone on his face. It was a dream. . .and though he knew in his gut it was, he prayed not a vision.
Slowly he sat up wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth with the sleeve of his oversized sweater before turning his attention to the few drop that were on the hard cover book directly in front of him on his desk. Had that been his pillow? Gingerly he touched his cheek which had been pressed against the book as he slept hunched over his work, feeling the imprint of the embossed lettering of the cover on his skin. 'The Stars Within you: A Modern Guide to Astrology' the title read- his current research for the new book he'd been chipping away at ever since he'd sent the final edited version off his last one to his publisher a couple of months prior.

Just a glance over at his typewriter and the half finished page still in it caused a small grimace on his face. It hadn't been turning out anywhere close to what he'd wanted- the plot just felt so stale, and his writing was mediocre at best in his opinion. It was such a downgrade from when he'd first started his career as a novelist. Back then he'd had so much passion and all his stories were new an inventive and his research excited him as he dove into book after book. . .now it just felt like he was doing it to survive.
With a heavy sigh he pushed his chair out from the table and stood up, a dull headache starting in his temples and his body feeling stiff from a night spent at his desk. The dream hadn't helped things either- if it had been a vision it at least explained why he felt so exhausted, legs heavy as he wandered over to his kitchen nook, passing an old mirror on his way, it's edges blackened from de-silvering over time. He caught a small glimpse of himself as he walked past only to back pedal a few steps to take a closer look. His dark chocolate colored hair was an absolute mess due to bed head as well as him not bothering to brush it for a few days, and his eyes looked worn out, dark circles outlining beneath them. His mother would be disappointed he'd let his appearance get so disheveled, having always stressed taking care of yourself even if no one else was going to see you. . .maybe a day off from writing would do him good. He'd take care to eat a proper meal and maybe even clean his apartment which while it was organized in a way where he could find everything, still looked like complete chaos. Besides-half of the city would be taking the day off for the festivities- it wouldn't be very hard to argued that he deserved to as well.

Theodore was about to turn from the mirror to go start a kettle of tea when his eyes focused on the word that still managed to be imprinted on his right cheek. 'The Stars' was still clearly there- the surrounding text faded or only partially there. With a small frown he rubbed his lightly freckled cheek trying to get the blood moving and sure enough the words faded in a few moments and his attention could be turned to making himself a nice warm drink to getting him moving despite his poor sleep.
As he worked on getting the fire in his little wood burning stove lit, putting in a fresh log on the already partially burnt ones inside before striking a match against the metal door and tossing it in. He bumped the door closed with his knee as he stood up, walking over to a cupboard where he fished out an array of herbs and teas beginning to pack them into a tea infuser simply shaped like a little ball. When he was satisfied with the blend he'd concocted he dropped it in his teapot, hooking it's chain on the handle before filling it with water and setting it on top of the heated metal plate on his wood fire stove, the fragrance of the heating leaves already filling the immediate area. All was peaceful even if he could hear the slowly crescendoing sounds of the crowds outside getting excited as the festival got into full swing. It made him feel even more cozy in a way- like when you watch rain fall heavily from the dry safety of your windowsill. And knowing that even though he wouldn't call it his best novel to date, one of his books was being released today to celebrate the festivities made a twinge of pride swell in his chest, in fact, said book was probably coming hot off the presses right this moment, a final pushing having had to be done to get them printed in time.

He'd turn today into a good day full of self-care and relaxation- speaking of which the first think on the agenda was ready, his kettle whistling into the comfortable silence of his home. He took a mug down from a shelf filled with them and set it on the counter, using a dish towel to pick up the steaming kettle and pour the reddish brown liquid into his cup. It smelled lovely, a classic blend along with dried dragon fruit for added antioxidants and taste. In fact the potent fruit gave it enough flavor that he didn't need any added sugar, simply bringing his mug back over to his desk, moving a few papers to set it down on the dark oak wood.
Well his desk was a good enough place to start as any- swiftly he began stacking books into those he was finished with and those that he still needed to look over before turning his attention to the papers that littered the desk and floor. Trash, trash, notes, trash. . . oh shit.

Was this really what it appeared to be. . .he read it over once, twice, three times. There was no mistaking it but how could he have missed this!
As if on cue the bell hung just outside his door was rung and a cold chill ran down his spine. So this is the reason he had to leave his house today.

The man dragged his feet, weakly calling "I'm coming-" as he approached his door and as he opened it sure enough there was the apprentice of his publisher looking as excited and nervous as ever beneath the brim of his newsboy cap.
"Hello Theodore! I've come with a message for you from Mr.Deary! Your books been printed but we were looking it over and the ending just cuts off,it make no sense!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air for the added effect.

"Yes- I uh actually just found the page. . .I don't suppose you could deliver it for me right?" Theo asked as though his vision would take pity on him and change it's mind.

"Oh no- I'm sorry but I have to go inform a few shops the delivery will be a delayed by a few hours! But I promise I'll pick you up one of Ms.McManis's pastries on my way back to the shop if you still around for a little bit. But I've got to go- Sorry for the inconvenience!" And with that the boy was off along with any hope Theo had of getting out of this task that he was sure would lead to quite the exhausting day.

. . . . .

A half hour later Theodore was showered and his hair was brushed for the first time in days and he was dressed in a simple enough outfit that he hoped he wouldn't stick out very much in the crowd. On top he pulled on a deep blue poncho he'd had forever which had been a gift from his mother looking himself over in the mirror with a small huff. Good enough- he looked average and that's all he could ask for. With that he slipped on his messenger bag, another gift from his late mother, the final page of his novel as well as his wallet contained inside along with random bits and bobs like a notebook for ideas and a pen.
And finally he was ready to leave, chugging the last of his now lukewarm tea before heading out the door, descending the rickety wooden steps that lead out of his second story apartment and into an empty alley to the left of the small florist shop his home sat upon. It was owned by a kind couple whom had outgrown the living space above their family business as they had children and now rented it out to Theodore for more than a fair price along with a bit of tutoring for some of their kids.
As he exited the alley into the flow of traffic he saw that their shop was as busy as every, the front decorated with colorful displays of flowers for the festivals as some of the older kids grinned as they tried to sell single roses to passing males for their female company. Theo offered a sheepish smile to them as he past only receiving huge smiles and excitement in return as it is quite obvious that they hadn't expected to see him out of the house on such a busy day.
"Mr.Theo! You're going to come enjoy the festival?" The eldest daughter, Chrysanthemum, said as her and her brother ran up to great him. The young novelist stopped in front of them and nodded, watching their eyes grow wide at the notion.
"Yes- I actually need to go drop something off at my publisher. But perhaps if I have time I'll try some festival food" He smiled patting his bag where the final page of his book lay tucked away and they jumped up and down in response.
"Really?! The festival really is magic if it's got you out of the house!" The younger boy cheered only to be elbowed by his much more mild mannered sister.
"Oleander that's rude! He isn't in his house all the time" She scolded but her emphasis on all really didn't make Theo feel that much better. Suddenly however she shoved a bright pink rose into his hands "Here! because you had to deal with my rude little brother and because you always help tutor us! Maybe you'll find a pretty girl at the festival to give it to!" The girl beamed and the novelist felt his face flush a similar pink to the rose- him? Find someone to give a rose? There was better chance of him being struck by lightning but still it was a nice gesture and he could always put it in a vase in his own home later.

"Are you sure? I can pay for it-" He assured, already reaching for his wallet but Chrysanthemum held up a hand and shook her head.
"Don't worry about it- but if that rose helps you meet the future love of your life I get to be the flower girl at your wedding!" She declared and her brother made a fake expression as though he was going to be sick because of all this sappy talk about love.

"Deal- and you two remember to do that worksheet I gave you last time, tell Rose and Basil to do it too" They both groaned but said fine in unison as they waved Theodore off as he started down the crowded street towards his publisher and whatever fate that vision had warned him about.

 

[. D O V E]

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[div class=small]Amidst poisons and promises; their wicked dance began years before the fateful festival.
The untold story of Desmond and Deianira[/div]​

The Poisoned Covenant

Desmond knew that there was a partnership between House Cytir and House Shantor - the two worked together frequently in terms of spying and information gathering. They were the "shadier" houses if others were to be trusted. But nevertheless, the two houses' history with each other had always been positive with Cytir backing the Shantors most of the time in their ventures. Desmond had grown up hearing about how her father and the previous patriarch often had meetings with each other, likely exchanging notes and information with each other. But then his father told him that he was summoned to the Elsombra household to meet their new Head.

Deianira Oca Victoria Enriquetta Issandra Salvia Tiera Hermosa Orlanda Tristessa Elsombra. Desmond had to jam that name into his head and hope that he would not forget it last he makes a bad impression on his new partner. His father had proceeded to tell him that they would be the one to continue the Cytir-Shantor partnership. But Desmond knew that there was more than that - not when his father’s eyes were twinkling with something akin to amusement. They had plans and he was very much part of it.

He would be lying if he wasn’t a little bit nervous as the butler took him to the receiving area. Desmond had only seen Deianira for the first time when he was introduced to the council the day before. It was such a formal event that he didn’t get a glimpse of what she truly was - not when they were discussing the new policy that the king was contemplating on. Desmond had been forced to take a back seat for the discussion because he was new. You’d think they’d allow him to prove himself - but not yet. At least there was another council meeting soon.

He’ll show them.

“M’lady has been informed of your arrival Mr. Jaestrix,” the butler said as he opened the door to receiving area, gesturing for him to go in. “She will arrive momentarily.”

“Thank you very much,” Desmond responded with a smile of appreciation before entering the room. He chose a seat and stayed there, letting the door close behind him. He did wonder what kind of person Deianira was outside of the council. Surely, no one could be that stiff even in personal meetings… right?

The Elsombra’s receiving area was very much like the rest of their mansion- grandiose. Dark walls with golden ornaments surrounded the young man, and the Shantor’s draconic sigil leered at him from every corner. A massive painting hung at the forepart of the room, depicting two individuals standing side by side. The first one appeared to be a middle-aged man; dark hair, fair skin, and a proud smile. It was obviously the former head of Shantor- Lord Valyr Elsombra. Beside him was a young woman, about Des’ age, sharing the same hair and skin but not the smile. It was most likely the new head of the house, the young lady whom Des was supposed to meet, but she was still nowhere in sight.

Eventually, the door opened and from it emerged the Pride of Shantor, wearing a simple black dress while her hands each held a goblet. She placed the objects on the table at the center of the room before fixing her indifferent gaze to the other occupant.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here, Lord Desmond Jaestrix.” She greeted in a monotonous tone, making it difficult to tell whether she was being sincere or not. It certainly didn’t help that she was wearing an expression as blank as a clean canvas. “Please, take your seat.” She gestured to the chair across from her. Although she used formality, it still sounded like she wasn’t really giving him an option. Besides, what kind of buffoon would opt to remain standing for the entire duration of their meeting. Surely, nobody could be that foolish, right?

Desmond had decided to spend his time waiting studying the painting that depicted both Lord Valyr and Lady Deianira. For a moment, he wondered what had happened to the mother but he ruled it as a death, likely from a young age. After all, why wouldn’t you paint the mother within the family portrait?

As the door opened, Desmond turned around quickly. His eyes followed the goblets that she was carrying - hm, he’d have expected the drinks would be served by the servants but perhaps this was such a closed off meeting that no one could disrupt them? However, he had to admit that the painting did not do the Head of Shantor any justice in terms of beauty - in terms of aura, however, it has definitely captured it perfectly.

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Deianira Oca Victoria Enriquetta Issandra Salvia Tiera Hermosa Orlanda Tristessa Elsombra.” Desmond flourished a bow to the woman who returned the gesture with a bob. He was thankful that he didn’t get tongue tied in the middle of saying the other’s name. As much as it is a beautiful name and, he imagined, filled with the history of their family, it wasn’t exactly the easiest to say. Straightening himself up, he walked towards the chair he was gestured to and sat down after saying, “Thank you.” The Shantor following suit and taking her own seat across the table.

“If I may be frank and honest, Lady Deianira, my father has given me no context in the subject of our current meeting - only that this will strengthen the relationship between our two houses. Perhaps… you know more about the subject?” Desmond found that beating around the bush would only serve to lengthen this meeting and provide little to no assets to both of them.

Deianira raised a brow, amused by the fact that he got her entire name right and that his father didn’t at least brief him about the alliance. But his assumption was correct. She had been told everything about the plan way before she took a position in the council. Still, it didn’t mean that she signed up to be the one to feed Desmond everything. Her father should’ve informed the Cytirs that conversing with another breathing individual was not one of her strong suits.

“Right,” she leaned forward, grabbing one of the goblets before carefully swirling it, “Way before you and I were born, the Houses of Shantor and Cytir swore allegiance with one another, establishing a relationship founded on both trust and loyalty. For generations, our forebears worked hard to keep this bond strong; standing beside each other come what may like unmoving fortresses. The Shadow and the Mind- working as one.” The female paused to bore her gaze at him with chin slightly tilted upwards. “And now, our time has come to follow their footsteps. I was told that since we’ll be working together, we must learn to trust one another.” Slowly, she extended the goblet to the other mage, her eyes never leaving his. “Drink.”

Desmond leaned forward, his elbows propped on top of his lap with his fingers laced together. When he had come, he was not expecting a short history lesson about the bond between the two houses but he listened intently nevertheless. He would not want to seem rude by brushing off the deep relationship. And what she said was a well known fact within the family - ever since the houses were established, the Shantors and the Cytirs were already working together. Their schools of magic were simply too closely related when it came to their respective jobs.

As Deianira extended the goblet towards him with absolutely no context, Desmond found himself straightening his seat again - eyes flickering towards the goblet before turning back to her. However, what slipped next from his mouth was neither complaint nor submissive approval, but rather a loud laugh - the silence of the room absolutely broken.

“Come now, the seriousness of your tone makes it seem like you are attempting to poison me!” He couldn’t help but exclaim as he reached over to gently take the goblet from his current companion. “I understand that this may be a grave plan, but a drink?” He couldn’t help but shake his head, a grin now permanently plastered on his face. “I would never say no to a drink from a trusted colleague such as yourself, Lady Deianira. Bottoms up.” He raised the goblet to her before drinking from the cup.

So she was right. He was indeed a buffoon. Deianira couldn’t stop her eyebrow from twitching when his laughter resonated throughout the hall. Did she look like a court jester to him? Did she say anything funny? No. As if an act of retribution, the Shantor waited and made sure that he gulped down his drink. When he finished, she leaned forward and eyed him with seriousness.

“It is poisoned.”

Desmond slowly brought his goblet down, obviously finished with whatever liquid concoction it contained that was now within the bellows of his stomach. He narrowed his eyes at the person before him, slowly putting the goblet down on the table but not breaking eye contact.

“I see.” He said slowly, bringing his hands together again and propping his chin onto his hands. “The foundation of trust here seems to be misguided if the poison would be enough to kill me, no?” Desmond continued, an easygoing smile now on his face. “And however unfortunate it is for me, I drank all of it in one go.” He let out a hum of amusement. “Tell me, then m’lady, is my trust misplaced? Will I simply die here and you repeat this test to my understandably more paranoid brother?”

Ah, he had an irritating smart mouth too. “Perhaps, but I doubt your brother would enjoy the taste of mine and my ancestor’s blood as much as you did. Finishing it in one go- the Shantors are flattered.”

“Goodness gracious m’lady, I never thought Shantors could be this intense.” Desmond’s smile grew wider, however, even at the implication that he drank the blood of a Shantor. “But if I must say, it was quite a unique taste, I couldn’t help myself.” He seemed entirely unconcerned about the subject matter. Whether he took it jokingly or seriously was up for debate at this point, he was just having fun.

At this point, Deianira was internally fizzling with irritation. It had only been a few minutes and she was already convinced that Cytir made a terrible mistake by allowing a clown to lead them. They promised Shantor someone suitable for the mission, Desmond’s older brother as they have frequently insisted, but instead they received him. The urge to throw Desmond out of the nearest window was strong but she also knew it would be most unwise. “Enough.” Before he could annoy her any further, she chose to end his poor attempt at comedy and drive the conversation back to where it should be.

“We’re going to take the throne.”

The Council's Serpents

A sigh escaped the man’s lips. The golden crown on his head felt heavier than it did before, his eyes clearly showing his lack of sleep as he looked around and skimmed over the faces of his Council. “As you can see” the words he spoke were slightly slurred evidently from the lack of sleep, “the unaccounted supplies case has been dragging on for days and none of you still hasn’t done anything about it?” There was a mild irritation to his face as people started talking, same strategy, same accusations and theories that led to nowhere.

Desmond looked at the back and forth with bored look on his face, his chin propped onto his hand as the rest of the council began to point fingers as to who was not pulling their weight - completely ignoring the two Houses who would be the most useful in cases like these. And yet, every time he would try to interject, he would be brushed off like some sort of clown.

“If I may speak.” He called out loudly, boredom clearly etched in his voice and the council members turned to him - practically telling him to shut up right then and there. And yet, Desmond continued. He rested his arm onto the table and spoke to the king directly. “While your actions to strengthen the security around the supplies to make sure it doesn’t disappear is admirable, it will not stop a larger operation. Not when those who are involved are smart enough to strategically place people in the correct positions to slip supplies beneath everyone’s noses.”

The King barely heard it, but he found it interesting for the newly minted Head of House Cytir to boldly speak his mind. Interesting was the word for him. Piqued, the King had felt a bit of vigor into his system. His mind alert, focused on what the you man has to say. He raised his hands with a fist as to silence the elder Heads of the Houses, and reaffirmed his desire to listen when one protested.

Not allowing the others any time to say anything, he leaned back and continued. “Therefore, would it not be for the best to simply bait them with something that they cannot resist and track that?” He suggested before tilting his head to the side, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Or, if I may be so bold, allow the Cytirs and the Shantors free movement to find the suspect.” He turned to Deianira to see what she had to say about the subject.

Deianira silently listened and observed while everything unfolded. She wore her usual stoic expression, seemingly calm and unbothered by the council’s disregardment, but beneath the facade lay a raging storm. The Shantors have always been an esteemed part of the council. They have served the Kingdom with unquestionable efficiency and effectivity for countless generations. It was beyond ridiculous how the rest of the assembly kept on pretending as though she, along with Desmond, were non-existent.

The reason why they were receiving such disrespect was obvious. The other members deemed them incompetent solely because they were young. She didn’t even need to send a spectral to figure it out, the leers and sneers they would often send their way were enough evidence. She pursed her lips. If her father was the one in her shoes, what would he think? What would he say? What would he do?

“I agree with Lord Jaestrix. I think we can all agree that this is a mission that would require subtlety and subterfuge which are things that both our houses specialize in.” She supported before looking at the King’s eyes firmly. “Your majesty, this problem has been dragged-out long enough, and our adversaries will continue fattening themselves up with our resources unless we change our stratagem. If you were to grant us this honor, I can assure you that we would be able to end this issue once and for all.”

“Yes, it has been dragged-out for far too long.” He agreed, his forest colored eyes eyed the two new faces in the round table. A modest smile appearing on his mouth. “So be it. Go forth with your plan, show us what you can do.”

“But, my King, if I may have a say. These are just mere-”

“Silence.” The word was barely spoken yet it was as if it resonated within the large room. “I did not ask for your input, and as stated earlier this has gone for too long. Let them show their worth, or would you rather do this all yourselves? Can you do what they can?” He received no answer and sighed at the sudden headache he was feeling crawling up to his head.

The boredom and irritation that Desmond had been feeling was slowly melting away, instead being replaced by elation and excitement. He clasped his hands together and grinned. “Excellent! Thank you, your highness. We will not disappoint.” He reassured the king before sending an amused grin to the other members of the council who could do nothing to override the king’s plans. There was no reason to, after all. They were growing more and more desperate.

Well, hopefully with the successful finish of this particular problem, Desmond and Deianira would have more say within the council. Or at least they’d start listening to when they wanted to speak. And maybe they would actually try to utilize the appropriate houses for certain types of problems.

”If anyone has anything more to say? No? Then all is dismissed.” Arthur commanded, watching all of the council members go before slumping back to his seat, hoping the two the best in finding the culprit.

Desmond had been one of the first people to exit, seemingly with his head in the clouds as he twisted one of his many rings. To others, it seemed like he was just an excited idiot who finally saw an opportunity to prove himself. However, he was not just that - he was also beginning to relay information towards his sister so that they could start investigations into the subject matter. The sooner they started to mobilize, the sooner they would catch whoever was stealing from them.

However, he kept a look out for Deianira. It would be in their best interests to discuss what they should do and what they can help each other with. It was time to start with plans and he was sure that those in the Shantor house would prove very effective for getting into places that they shouldn’t be in.

It wasn’t long before the young woman finally walked out of the room. Upon noticing Desmond, she quickly made her way towards him. Deianira noticed that he was playing around with one of his rings and she wordlessly wondered whether they were enchanted or not. “There you are.” She muttered, lightly grabbing him by the arm. “We should plan but not here. Too many ears.”

Desmond's eyes lit up when he saw the woman marching towards him. "My, my, being bold there aren't we, Lady Deianira?" He teased with a smirk on his face, much to her chagrin, but didn't brush off her hold. He knew that she was destined for the throne and both houses would do everything in their power to put her there, but that wasn't enough of a reason to simply stop his teasing. After all, she doesn't loosen up as often as she should - which is a real shame. He was sure a smile would be beautiful on her face.

"If I'm not being too intrusive, I do believe you've forgotten a key factor in our communication." Desmond smiled at her, his voice permeating her head as he established a telepathic link between the two of them. A brief look of surprise crossed the female’s face in return. He dug into his pocket and procured an amethyst ring before presenting it to her, but he made sure that none of the others in the council saw him do it. "A present and a sign of our partnership, m'lady." He tilted his head to the side, a serene smile on his face as he continued his explanation. "It allows for long range communication between both wearers of the ring. This way, information is relayed faster."

Deianira accepted the ring and slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand. She curiously eyed the item, letting her left thumb caress its gem. She was familiar with similar objects. Communication was extremely vital during missions and Shantor’s prodigy has been a part of countless. “Smart. This will be handy.” She responded through the telepathic link, returning her gaze to him.

“Of course, anything to be more efficient.” Desmond gave her another smile before extending his arm towards the hall. “Now, let us discuss our plans elsewhere. As you said, walls have ears.” They needed to keep up appearances that they weren’t having a telepathic conversation. If anything, to fool anyone who wanted to spy on the youngest council members. It would be much too amusing to simply leave each other’s side right then and there and it would not even hinder them.

“I am willing to provide my room, if need be, for our meeting. I have a collection of tea there as well.” He offered with a polite smile. “Very well.” Deianira replied, walking towards the direction of his quarters while he kept in pace with her. Normally, he would offer his arm to her, but he figured that she would not be very open to that kind of action. “I have sent my agents to check the information surrounding the operations. They should report back shortly of the fine details of its route.”

Deianira commended Desmond’s swift actions. It has only been a few minutes after they received the task yet he already took one step forward. Perhaps she was wrong about her initial impression about him. “You’re really irritating,” she began in her classic monotonous tone, “But you do know what you’re doing.”

Desmond grinned at her, letting out a chuckle. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Lady Deianira! Now as for the plan, I was thinking…”

The Mind and the Shadow

The package had been released a few days ago and it was on the move. Fortunately, they’ve managed to continue tracking the package without it going dark once. Desmond had been out with some of his agents to interview a few high ranking people that he knew were involved in the transportation of the supplies, but none were suspect to the disappearance. He had no luck in the avenue of finding evidence.

No wonder the others in the council couldn’t find the suspect. They erased all traces of evidence. Whoever was behind it was very smart and strategic, Desmond had to admit that.

They must have known that both Cytir and Shantor were… incapacitated during this time. He was banking on the hope that the knowledge of their involvement would be known to the suspect. They were both taking risks - but with Desmond sending out agents to the wrong places, where he was sure nothing was going on, the suspect would think them stupid.

And as expected, their thief took the bait and the information was now with Deianira. Desmond was already heading to the location of interest and he just hoped that his partner managed to catch the suspect by surprise.

The location of interest ended up to be a sizable abandoned warehouse that appeared to be tightly guarded by a number of mages. Regardless, the effort proved to be in vain against the shadowy figures who easily infiltrated the structure, aided by the darkness of the night. The Shantors moved with silent haste, each action sharp and sure, as they assassinated unsuspecting guards one after the other. It was obvious that they knew exactly where the guards were stationed or how the warehouse’s insides were structured.

Leading the team of assassins was the head of the house herself- Deianira. The necromancer arrived along with the rest as soon as Desmond’s intel reached her. She raised a handful of spectrals, had them scout the area, and formulated a plan before heading inside. It was no wonder why they were able to clear each room without any commotion.

Eventually, they reached the door leading to the mastermind behind the crime. Deianira knew that two guards were positioned in there with him so she readied herself. With a gesture, she ordered her men to stay before abruptly kicking the door open.

The guards inside had no time to respond when a pair of shadow spikes shot for each of their necks precisely. With a thud, the two of them fell to the ground simultaneously, dying on the pool of their own blood. The mastermind bolted up from his seat in shock.

“Lord Federic of House Herya, so you’re the one who has been leeching off the Kingdom’s resources.” Deianira tilted her chin upwards and looked at him with disgust.

Frederic shrugged his shoulders, acting nonchalant. “Ah, so you pesky children decided to play detectives. Well I hope you had your fun.” He then smirked. “Because that was your last!”

An hour later...
Desmond had made haste towards the location but when he had received that Deianira had captured the target, he felt more at ease. He had enough trust in the Pride of Shantor to know that the suspect would be captured, but he still felt on edge knowing that the suspect could still slip through their fingers.

He moved through the warehouse, unbothered by the eerie silence that filled the area now that it was cleared out. The Shantor mages were still there and Desmond gave them a friendly nod and a smile as he continued through the center.

“Good evening Lord Frederic!” Desmond exclaimed as he opened the door, eyes immediately falling towards the fallen lord, now tangled with zombies and his eyes wide with fright. “Ah, not a man of many words hm? I’ve heard different rumors stating otherwise but I do not blame for you getting tongue tied!”

He turned to Deianira and gave her a smile. “Are you alright m’lady? He didn’t give you much trouble?”

Deianira gestured to the gaping hole on the ceiling and the large roots that seemed to have shot out of the floors, both remnants of her battle with the corrupt noble. “He had lots of plants.” She dryly remarked before approaching the subjugated Herya who flinched with every step she took. He squirmed in fear when she crouched down, reminding her of a worm, but her undead held him tight. “I think he forgot how to talk.” She looked at Des. “But you know a trick or two, right?”

The telepath let out a hum as he observed the area of battle. “I see, well, I am glad that you are well m’lady. It would do us no good if you were not!” He pointed out before looking back to their suspect once more. “Oh dear, I fear you might have taken his tongue too, Lady Deianira!” Desmond cheerily suggested as he followed her to the man. “Now, now, Lord Frederic, I need you to simply sit there and stay looking pretty… or frightened, whichever you prefer.”

Desmond knelt in front of him and placed a hand to the side of his temple and began his dive. The man’s memories were laid before him and it wasn’t hard to find the fresh memories of his treason against their kingdom. Of course, the fight between him and Deianira was quite amusing as well. In any case, all of the missing supplies trace back to him. It would be easy to find his other agents now that their faces were in his mind.

He removed his hand from Frederic’s head and stood up. “Well then, he is completely guilty. I will send word to our guards to collect his other...partners.” Desmond fixed the lapels of his coat. “In any case, m’lady, I do suggest we find you a healer soon.” He walked over to her, looking her over. “I’m afraid the tree had quite a vengeance exacted upon you.”

Deianira silently watched when Desmond performed his magic. She has always found the Cytir’s magic to be interesting and she often wondered what it would be like if she could infiltrate another person’s mind. However, her amusement quickly changed into annoyance when he approached and suggested a medic.

Of course, he would find out and make a comment about it. During her fight with Frederic, the man summoned a whole tree from the ground. It completely caught her off-guard, enough to be hit and hurled to a wall. “I’m fine.” She insisted, pretending like her whole body wasn’t aching. “Just tell your men to pick him up. His former guards are getting tired.” She used a thumb to point at the zombies securing the criminal before walking away with a slight limp.

“Stubbornness will get you nowhere m’lady.” Des pointed out as he nodded, sending a message to the people outside to come in and to take Frederic into custody. He was looking forward to the next council meeting. “We make a pretty good team, huh, Lady Deianira?”

"Whatever."

Loathing

The King was standing, a smile on his face as he gave a clap giving the shamed leaders a flinch. Clearly, this amused the King. Their ego has gone too high that they let a simple nobleman create such a problem. “Thank you, the both of you, Lady Deianira Elsombra of Shantor and Lord Desmond Jaestrix of Cytir. For doing such a wonderful job in solving this problem in such a short time. And as you all can see, these two are just as capable and maybe even more.” A satisfied look painted his aged face as he sat back in his seat comfortably. Another problem off the list.

The King was about to bring forth another problem needed to be discussed when the doors opened wide to a screaming child. “Faaaatheeer!” Ran a black haired child, dress stained with what seemed to be a sweet filling from one of her favorite pastries. Her hair bounced with every step with a big grin on her face. “I brought you food! I figured you must be hungry from all the talking!” Excitedly handing a bitten pastry with her small hands.

The King’s features were suddenly ever so soft at the sight of his daughter. “AHA! But I see you couldn’t resist taking a bite.” He quipped to which he received a giggle from the little one. At the corner of his eye he can see his wife watching by the door with a smile. “Little Diore, I am very much sure your mother told you against disturbing a meeting.” The young princess’ face went from a smile to a frown quietly saying about how she knew of it.

“Bah, so long as you don’t look that way again, I don’t mind if you barge into any meetings.” This made Diantha jump in excitement, with the Queen giving a slight laughter. “Dear, you are supposed to be the strict father. She’ll grow spoiled if we both dote on her too much.” She walked towards the two and picked up their daughter. “A pleasure to see you all, hope we did not disturb anything important.”

Desmond did not fight back to grin that was forming on his face as the King gave them the praise they rightly deserved. It felt good to be praised, he had to admit, especially coming from a person of power like the King. Plus! This would force the others to put him and Deianira at the same level as the rest of them. It was certainly a fulfilling feeling and if he was any more immature, he would have tried to gloat after the meeting. But he knew better than to do that.

He quickly turned towards the door when it slammed open and in came the crown princess and Desmond couldn’t help but smile as she was received warmly by her father. Would it not be an ideal world if all the children were treated like the princess was treated? It was an interesting thought but overall unrealistic - however unfortunate it was.

Desmond looked over to the queen who was watching them fondly. “Oh what a happy family.” He couldn’t help but telepathically send to Deianira who remained unmoved beside him. “Really a shame.”

“It’s not a shame. It's unprofessional.” Came the ever dry response of his comrade. She was probably going off about how inappropriate it was for a child to be barging in a meeting.

And of course, despite Demond’s training in etiquette, he could not resist speaking up as opposed to the others who seemed content in shaking their heads. “Ah, we were simply wrapping up a recently solved problem, your highness.” He reassured the queen, adjusting his position so he was more comfortably viewing the royal family. “I think it is a welcome distraction.” He paused for a moment before chuckling. “Oh apologies, good day to you, your highness, princess.”

Deianira suppressed the urge to voice out her disagreement but she knew better. She was raised to please the monarch, hence, her opinion did not matter. It should not matter.

“Your majesties,” She bowed her head in greeting.

The Shantor then straightened herself up, silver eyes darting from each member of the family she was destined to ruin. She watched silently while the King and Queen showered their daughter with such warmth. She noticed the glimmer in the princess’ eyes and how her smile widened with each affection. Dei couldn’t help but wonder just what it was called. The foreign feeling within her, churning and clawing like a beast waiting to be unleashed. And at that moment, as she gazed upon the things that she will have and never have, she found her answer.

It was loathing.

Deianira loathed every single one of them. She couldn’t wait until they all fall, one by one, because no crowns or prayers will ever save them.

Crimson lips curled into a smile. “Your presence are always welcomed.”

Diantha had requested her mother to go down, fascinated at the fresh faces she has seen for the first time. “Wow, you’re in the council but you’re not old like the others!” She said to Desmond, who looked at her with clear mirth. “You’re so friendly, can we be friends? You can call me Diore, like my grandma’s name.” The other council members could only stay quiet and watch it all unfold. This has become a common occurence ever since the Princess has been able to run and speak her mind.

Desmond couldn’t help but laugh at the princess’s statement. “Well, I’m new in the council after all. Dear old dad thought I was fit for the council already.” He then leaned forward to whisper something. “Though between you and me, I’m pretty sure he just wanted to retire early.” Giving the kid a wink, he leaned back in his chair and gave her the biggest grin. “Of course Princess Diore! Then you can call me Des. We’ll be great friends.” Friends. Yes. Because that’s what’s his position - friends are always privy to the finer details of people’s lives. The princess and the queen. He knew what must be done.

She then now ran to Dei with amazement in her eyes. “And you’re so beautiful! You seem so confident and knows what to do, I want to be like that when I grow up.” She then began to copy the young woman’s posture and look. Dei stared at the princess with bewilderment before glancing at the Queen who gave her daughter an endearing smile. “Well, our sweet Diore, you can ask her all about it when they are not in an important meeting. Now come, they surely have such things to talk about.” Morgiana held out her hand to her daughter and walked her out of the room, the place quiet once more as some of the people in the room began to relax.

Desmond gave the two a small wave as they left the room. Propping his head onto his hand again, back to the same old boring meeting. He eyed Deianira for a moment, hiding a smirk under his hand. He didn’t miss that clenched fist when the princess hopped over to Deianira. “Not used to interactions with children, Lady Deianira?” He couldn’t help but tease as he turned back to the king. “You need to keep your cool, m’lady. You’ll be seeing more of the princess after what we’re planning.”

The Shantor could only respond with a single click of her tongue.

A Date to Remember

It was early in the morning when Desmond was already walking down the halls of the castle. It was true that he had some paperworks leftover from last night but he could work on those without much problem at a later date. They were repetitive enough that he wouldn’t want to spend yet another day doing only that. Of course, the halls were empty - either the other people inside the council were still asleep or they went back home.

However, there was one person that he did want to see - Deianira. He was well aware that she had decided to stay over for the weekend as well. After all, for progenies like them, they didn’t have anything to truly come back to in their respective houses. They were born for work - nothing more, nothing less. Desmond often wondered to himself if it really was a good idea to snatch everything from his brother but there was no time for regrets.

Knocking on the door of Deianira’s room, he reached out to her. “Good morning, m’lady. Might I have a discussion with you?”

It was only a matter of seconds before the door opened, revealing the Pride of Shantor along with her usual dead look. Although she may not show it, she was actually curious as to why Desmond sought her out. Usually they would communicate through the ring he granted her months ago.

“What’s the matter, Lord Jaestrix?” She asked, ever so formal, before stepping aside to let him enter.

Desmond gave a small bow of his head as he entered the room, letting out a hum. “Well, this weekend is quite relaxed is it not?” He started. And it was true, there were no problems so far that the council needed a meeting for. No problems that needed piles upon piles of papers to be worked on. “I assume you aren’t busy either. There haven’t been any… ah, missions, since a good while ago.”

“Correct,” Deianira replied, “I’ve been doing nothing but read documents.”

He moved over to the window, looking out for a moment, while she stared at him with a cocked brow. He seemed content with something as he turned back to her with a grin. “So I propose a date.” He started before letting out a chuckle, causing the female to cross her arms while clearly unconvinced. “And by date, I do mean simply going out of town. After all, we must strive for a more prosperous partnership and I do believe that by getting to know each other better, we can work together better.” Moving towards her, he extended his hand and did a small bow. “Would m’lady like to accompany me to the city today?”

An extensive moment passed and yet Des’ hand remained empty. Desmond tilted his head, a small hint of disappointment in his face.

However, it soon became apparent that it wasn’t because she was refusing his offer. Deinanira was fishing something out from her wardrobe and it was only a matter of time before she successfully pulled a brown overcoat. She put it on and fixed her indigo dress without any haste before making sure that all of her necessary jewelries were with her. Finally, she faced Desmond blankly, as though expecting him to lead her somewhere.

Desmond retracted his hand, reaching up to the back of his neck, letting out a chuckle as she came over, expectation plain on her face. He couldn’t help but let out another chuckle. “Really, there’s no joking around with you, hm?” He mused before gesturing for her to follow as he exited the room. “Please do tell me if there are any places you’d live to visit. This day is for us to get to know each other-”

“None.” His companion interjected beside him.

He let out a hum. “I can call for a carriage now and it will arrive in a few minutes. Unless you have another mode of transportation we could take?”

Deianira glanced at him and pondered to herself. It seemed like she was assessing him for something as she cupped her chin thoughtfully. Eventually, she took his arm and tugged him to the direction of the castle’s spacious garden.

Trusting the woman enough, Desmond allowed her to drag him towards the garden. “If I may be so bold to ask, m’lady, but did you have something to do here first or-?” It was certainly a beautiful place to relax in and he wouldn’t mind spending a few minutes there before heading into the city.

“Please shut up for a moment.” The Shantor said, showing him the palm of her hand before facing the colorful grounds. She let her silver eyes wander around the lush greens and thick floras before walking off to the center where a sizeable empty patch sat.

There, Deianira looked up at the blue sky and took a deep breath. She appeared like she was about to prepare for something spectacular or break off into one of those dreamy songs like how theater actresses would. However, she did none of those and instead let out a whistle. The female did this over and over again until something suddenly happened.

A cry resonated from a distance and a large winged beast revealed itself from the castle’s roof. The being swooped down and passed through Des overhead, obviously shooting straight for Dei.

Desmond had shoved his hands inside his pockets as Deinira started to whistle sharply to the air. He decided that it would be for the best if he just kept silent as she had oh so kindly requested. However, there was a sharp cry of an Egnarion in the distance and he looked towards the general area of where the cry had come from. That’s-

“Whoa!” He exclaimed as the large Egnarion flew by, mouth hanging open as it headed straight for his companion. “What the- you- that-”

But the Egnarion did not bare its sharp claws upon Deianira. Instead, it landed next to her and nestled its silver head, almost entirely draconic if not for the beak, onto the crook of her neck.

It wasn’t that Desmond hasn’t seen an Egnarion up close but this one! “How in Harmonia did you get an Egnarion like that?” He questioned in complete and utter disbelief.

Deianira caressed the beast’s jaw, causing it to flap its majestic wings that was about five meters in length. “This is Mr. Pepper,” she introduced, shifting her gaze to Desmond. “He’s a Rigozi. My father gave him to me when I turned six. He was still an egg then so I had to hatch and raise him. He has been with me ever since.”

It was no wonder why the Egnarion acted as though Deianira was its mother. But it sure was unusual for the female to show even the tiniest hint of affection towards something.

"Mr. Pepper? Interesting choice of a name." Desmond commented with a nervous chuckle as he shifted his weight to his other foot, bringing a hand to his neck. "Oh, you've had him since you were a kid." He remembered them being notoriously hard and even near impossible to tame unless you raised them yourself, and even then, they were hard to maintain. The Shantor family never ceases to amaze him.

The Egnarion then focused its sharp eyes on Desmond. “Come, you should touch him. Let him familiarize to your scent.” Dei said, calming her mount for the foreign touch.

"Uh…" He turned his head back to the Egnarion and cleared his throat. "Okay, yeah." He looked back at Deianira with an unsure look and then back at the Rigozi. Taking a deep breath, he inched closer and extended his hand towards the Egnarion, slowly so that it wouldn't be aggravated.

The beast flinched back with a snarl, urging Deianira to calm it down with soothing whispers. Desmond, himself, retreated his hand as it growled, looking towards Deianira for aid.

“Your hand, Lord Jaestrix.” She grabbed his hand without waiting for his response and placed it on the Egnarion’s forehead, her own on top. Pepper obviously relaxed, accepting the foreign touch. It wasn’t long before it began to nuzzle the man.

As his hand was pulled forward, he instinctively closed his eyes and waited for… something. But the Egnarion relaxed under his touch and he opened his eyes. He let out another nervous laugh as he began to pat Mr. Pepper. "Ah, you're rather nice aren't you?" He said breathlessly and as the Egnarion became more comfortable and nuzzled him, he felt more and more at ease. "You're such a sweetheart aren't you?" He cooed as he continued to pat the beast, a grin now back on his face.

He turned to Deianira. "So is this your idea of a method of transportation, m'lady?" He couldn't help but ask.

Upon making sure that Pepper has familiarized himself with Desmond, Deianira pulled away. “Correct.” She replied, stepping to the side of the creature before mounting.

She extended a hand to her other companion. “Lord Jaestrix?”

"Really, despite your stoic nature, you're really a wild person aren't you." Desmond grinned as he walked to the side. "And please, m'lady, call me Des. As much as I love hearing Lord Jaestrix, it's quite… shall we say, too reminiscent of my father."

Deianira blinked at him. It was strange how she could relate to what he just said.

He grabbed her hand and pulled himself up with her aid. "And in turn I can call you… hm…" He let out a hum as he adjusted himself to his seat. He snapped his fingers. "Issy!" He let out a laugh, just as she frowned, immediately leaning back just in case she lashed out. "I'm joking, I'm joking! I'll just call you Dei."

It sounded so foreign to her. Nobody referred to her as anything aside from her name or the usual formalities. However, she could understand where he was coming from. Being in your father’s shadow is never easy- even for a Shantor.

“Whatever.” She said, turning from him to face the front. “Mr. Pepper is a fast flyer. I suggest you hold onto me tight, Lord-“ she abruptly cut herself, “Des.”

Desmond’s grin grew even wider as she finally dropped the formality. Slipping his hands around her waist, he gave a nod. “First time flying on an Egnarion. Can finally put those dreams at rest. Thanks a lot Dei.” He muttered to himself.

And perhaps, maybe, just maybe, he had underestimated what fast meant in Deianira’s vocabulary. The moment Pepper picked up speed, Desmond’s hold on his partner tightened instinctively, but not to the point where it would bother her. Since Deianira was the one focusing on steering the majestic beast, he spent his time admiring the view from above. Certainly, it was quite breathtaking to take to the skies.

It wasn’t long until the city had come into view. It was certainly the perfect time to go - there weren’t too many people out and about as they had already finished their morning shopping but there were still a few stragglers that made the city look busy enough. It should be relatively safe as well as there are now wide awake guards patrolling the city.

“I assume Mr. Pepper does not need a stable. We can land over by the courtyard, there’s not many people there from what I can see.” He called out to Deianira, opting to use telepathy to ensure that they can hear each other perfectly.

Deianira gave no response as they neared the town square. She drove the mount to land there, making sure that they won’t end up crashing onto anyone. The glorious beast landed on a free ground, the impact sending a gust of air to its surrounding.

A mixture of reactions exploded from the people around them. Some screamed in shock and fear, as though they were expecting the Egnarion to attack them, but most gaped at it in awe. However, they all marveled even more when the silver creature spread its wings and bowed, letting its companions dismount.

"I'm surprised I didn't go through several heart attacks consecutively." Desmond muttered under his breath when Pepper landed. As much as he trusted the mount and its owner, there was still something about landing at a high speed like it did. Letting out a shaky breath, he removed himself from Deianira and slid down the side of the Egnarion.

"Thank you for the ride, Mr. Pepper." He managed to let out as he stepped away to give his companion some space to dismount herself. He looked around to see that most of the people around them were marvelling at the sight and what a sight it was indeed. A Mezan could surely pull it off - but an Eilow from another house? Rarer than what you might imagine.

The Shantor carefully stepped off her trusty Egnarion. She tapped its side gently, signalling it to fly off to a more comfortable space. It nodded its head and stretched its wings once more, letting out a cry before flying off.

Desmond looked around the square, as if calculating something in his mind. After a few moments of this, he finally turned back to Deianira and gestured towards the west path. "I have some news of… certain items coming into stock today. I assure you, they will be grand. Come, come." He grinned as they began walking off, making sure to keep pace with her.

"Now, I don't know much about your taste in fashion aside from your preference of dark colors - as most Shantors do - but this boutique I know of should have some clothes to your liking." Desmond started, causing her to look at him. "And if not, well, I have a couple of shops to visit as well." He gave her a small shrug as they walked. It was no secret that Desmond was fond of visiting various shops in multiple cities after all, most of them for clothing and accessories.

Deianira tilted her head in confusion. She silently wondered how shopping for clothing would help their mission, but she trusted Desmond knew what they were doing.

Eventually, they reached the town’s shopping district. Rows after rows of shops and each of them bustled with activity. Deianira let her eyes wander on the different items displayed from outside as they walked by. She never frequented this place although she admittedly wanted to once upon a time.

“Remind me how shopping will improve our dynamic?” She posed from beside him.

"We're supposed to get to know each other. Business is one thing but a partnership like ours would require something called friendship. I would suppose you have at least heard of that." Desmond grinned widely. And yes, perhaps this entire thing was only a ruse so that he could spend an entire day with Deianira in a casual setting. Because so far, it's only been business meetings and shallow talks and those haven't been fruitful in the slightest!

He stopped in front of a quaint little boutique and opened the door. "And perhaps I may have wanted for you to indulge in something other than paperwork which we've been drowning with for the past couple days. A change of pace sounds nice, no?"

Deianira huffed at him and shook her head slightly before entering.

Once she stepped into the boutique, Desmond immediately headed for one of the workers there. Her face lit up at the familiar customer and they began to exchange information on the latest shipment. He then gestured over towards Deianira. "This is my friend and I was wondering if you could help her." He gave Deianira a sly smirk. "Please, do enjoy."

The worker clapped her hands together as she headed towards Deianira as Desmond disappeared into another room. She bowed to show her respect to the council member. "Lord Jaestrix had a shipment arrive earlier today. I had only expected him to come and collect it, but to think he would have brought a friend! Please, if there is anything that catches your eye, feel free to try them on."

Truth to be told, Deianira has no idea what to do. Most of her clothing and equipment were brought to her by either her father or his servants. While it was true that she’d buy something every now and then, she has never been in a position where she was being urged to pick what she wanted.

“Friend…” She echoed the other female’s choice of word, reminding her of what Desmond mentioned a minute ago.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.” The worker deeply bowed, acting like she got caught stealing.

Deianira waved her hand in dismissal. “There’s no need for that.” She insisted, causing the worker to straighten herself. “We are friends.”

The other girl let out a sigh of relief. It was then when Deianira wandered around the shop. She obviously ignored the aisle with the bright colors and opted for the darker ones. Her hands touched what fabric she could, pondering about what she wanted.

Desmond was sure he had taken quite some time in fitting his newly made outfit. He had to admit, he might have been a tad bit too generous with the silver lining of the suit and it was a bland color of black but he supposed he can make it work. He had his old clothing sent back to his house to be sorted and cleaned.

"Dei, what have you chosen?" He called out as he exited the changing room, adjusting the cuffs of his new outfit. However when he made eye contact with the worker, she simply shook her head. Confused, Desmond made his way to her, who looked quite lost. "Come now, surely something seems to stand out for you. You're a very beautiful person, you would look good in anything!" He cheerily pointed out.

"You can choose anything you want~"

Deianira let out a sigh. Desmond made it sound so easy. Or perhaps it was really easy, and she was simply overthinking things. Eventually, her hands fell to a rosewood colored dress with gold linings embroidered on it. The shade of red felt right to her eyes and drew memory from her mind. She remembered that she had once told her father about her fascination to the color but he insisted otherwise.

In the end, she picked its neighboring dress. One coated with the shade of blue, no different from the ones she would usually wear whenever she was in the castle. She faced the man and showed him the dress, silently telling him that she had made her choice.

“Hm, the color does suit you I have to admit. Even though it’s the same shade, is it your favorite color?” Desmond couldn’t help but ask as he gently took the dress from her hands and propped it in front of her, using his other hand to rub his chin. “How about you try it on Dei?” He suggested as he gave the dress to the worker. “She’ll show you the way to the changing rooms.”

Knowing full well that Desmond won’t let her get away, Deianira nodded her head and disappeared to the changing rooms with the worker in tow.

Once the worker and Deianira went to the changing rooms, Desmond turned back to the dresses. He reached up to the rosewood colored dress, having noticed the extended amount of time Deianira seemed to spend on it. Certainly, it was a beautiful dress and one that would fit the woman perfectly. It would also be a refreshing change from the constant blue that she seemed to wear almost everyday.

He smiled to himself as he took it and gave it over to the worker who was waiting for Deianira to leave. It will certainly be a treat to see her in other colors.

After a few moments, Deianira walked out of the changing room wearing the blue dress. While it did fit her nicely, it wasn’t really much of a change from her previous appearance. Then again, it wasn’t like Deianira personally cared about the way she looked. Why was she doing this again?

A tad bit annoyed, Deianira faced Desmond and crossed her arms. “Here, I tried the dress. Happy?”

“Truly, you are like snow Dei. Beautiful, but very cold.” Desmond couldn’t help but comment before rounding the frowning woman. “But yes, it is no different from what you usually wear.” He lamented, though it was so much more than just the lack of diversity in his friend’s closet. He gestured for the worker to move forward. “Why not try to spice up your wardrobe?”

A look of surprise crossed Deianira’s face once her eyes landed on the familiar dress.

He paused for a moment before continuing. “Of course, it is entirely your choice. But consider this, Dei, you can wear whatever you want. There won’t be much consequence, especially now that you’re part of the council.” Desmond pointed out. “With the king’s acknowledgement and your show of prowess, I assure you, a wardrobe change won’t make them think of you any less.”

“I should know. How I dressed did not change anyone’s perspective.” Desmond gave her a bitter smile as he said this. They were desperate attempts at first. Until he realized that they did nothing to his image.

Silence engulfed the humble shop while the two stared at each other with understanding, the worker wordlessly watching them from the side. The stillness was only broken when Deianira finally took the rosewood dress, holding it close to her chest.

“It’s never about what they think,” she began, “It’s about what he thinks.” It was strange how she herself was unsure whether she was referring to the king or her father.

With that short exchange, the dark-haired woman returned to the changing room, leaving Desmond and a confused worker.

Desmond hummed. He could understand what she meant. Had he not accepted it fully, he would have been scared at how close to home she was hitting right now.

Once more, a few minutes passed before the Shantor stepped out of the room. She now fashioned the red dress, a color that neither of her two audience have ever saw on her. Although she was already a woman of poise, the air of regality that seemed to envelope her only strengthened.

He had been chatting with the worker casually for the few minutes that it had taken her to change into her new outfit, asking when their new arrivals would come in. Their seamstress was very skilled after all and he was always looking forward to the new outfits. For such a small boutique, it sure did create wonderful things.

“Wonderful outfits indeed.” He said out loud as Deianira exited the changing room, emitting an aura stronger than ever before. “You look…” He looked towards the worker, as if asking for help and then shaking his head. “Breathtaking.”

The compliment made Deianira take a deep breathe. She turned to face herself in the standing mirror, silver eyes studying every nook and corner of her own being. Many had claimed that Dei was beautiful; but she knew they saw someone else and not her.

“I assure you, Dei, even he cannot argue against this.” Perhaps he was pushing her too much out of her comfort zone but he wondered how far he could prod.

Deianira shifted to look at him. There was something about Desmond. Something that just made him so convincing just like her father. But perhaps that was the only thing they shared because the man in front of her was different from the other by a long shot.

“I… trust your judgement, Des.” She finally said after taking one last look at the mirror.

Desmond laughed. “Well, I am truly honored to have your trust.”

The Words to Say

Desmond realized that it was childish to be upset over something as small as what had happened. He had expected it, after all. It was a long time coming and while he had his own achievements - from succeeding in his ritual at a young age to providing vital information any time they needed it - he knew that his personality set him apart from the others. His natural curiosity, overbearing friendliness and dramatic gestures, they were all what had isolated him from his family.

Desmond knew what to expect with the council who was far more traditional than his own family. They were all locked in their own beliefs and prejudices. They had enjoyed speaking with him, yes, but those were empty talks. When it came to valuable decisions and meetings, he was pushed to the background as soon as he provides the information. He was only the messenger in their eyes, and that was that.

He found himself wandering into the castle’s gardens during the meeting. He hadn’t bid farewell to anybody. Simply slipped out of the room. Uncharacteristic of him but he really wasn’t in the mood for much of anything. He figured that no one would bother him in the garden. Not when they each had their own jobs to do.

Or so he thought.

A figure emerged from the shadows of a nearby tree before it stepped out underneath the warm rays of the sun, revealing none other than the head of Shantor. Deianira quietly approached the lonely form of Desmond, not even bothering to hide the sound of her footsteps.

The woman knew something was wrong when he wordlessly disappeared from the meeting. She felt as though she would have known it sooner if only they sat together earlier. Unfortunately, other councilors took the seats next to hers way before Desmond arrived.

Nonetheless, Deianira felt something within her stir when she glanced at his empty seat. Usually he would telepathically inform her if ever he wanted to leave; hence, she was confused why this particular day was different. It bothered her to the point that she excused herself from the meeting and looked for him.

Eventually, Deianira reached his side. She stood next to him in silence, feeling quite at lost with words although her blank facade hid it well.

Desmond didn’t look away from his stare off with a particular piece of plant in front of him. Had he not been Desmond, one would think that he was trying to curse it. But it would be more accurate to think that he was trying to curse the other council members - but alas, he was not that kind of mage. Unfortunately… or perhaps it was fortunate for him. He’d be in trouble if he does anything to them.

“Ah, come to take me back, have you?” He asked with a hollow laugh, leaning back on the bench to look upon her standing form. “Sorry for skipping the rest of the meeting, though, it’s not like they needed me there.” He gave a shrug as he looked forward once more, blankly staring at the expanse before him.

“I’ll return in a bit if the meeting is still going on. If anything, they might need another round of information.” He reassured her. That was the reason she had come, right? As much as they had grown close over the past couple of weeks, Deianira was still duty-bound. They had to make themselves look as good as possible.

He shook his head. “I apologize for my behavior. It’s just-” He paused and let out a breath. “It’s nothing. I simply needed a breath of fresh air.”

A moment passed before Deianira took a seat beside Desmond. The whole situation felt so alien to her and she has no idea how she should handle it. She wanted to agree that she was indeed here to drag him back to the meeting, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie. Especially now that she has an inkling about the root of the problem.

“No,” she began with honesty, “I just wanted to follow you here. I don’t want to return to the meeting either. They’re all spouting nothing but pointless things anyways.”

Desmond’s head whipped to her, surprise plain in his face. “Oh. Is that so?” He looked down and then back ahead. Well, he hadn’t expected that. He supposed life always had its twists - that there was always a first time for everything.

The woman stared at the same plant that her seatmate was drilling a hole to with his eyes. She noted that it had nothing special about it, just another speck in a sea of green. Her silver eyes traveled to Desmond.

“You’re needed.” She blurted out as though she was stating facts, and to her, she really was. Even if the rest of the council believed that Desmond was unneeded, there will always be someone who needs him. Deianira.

“I-”

Desmond found himself completely at a loss for words. They were two simple words but they were the two words… he had never heard from anyone before. Everything was a duty. Everything was an order. He was not needed - it was simply because he was the only option. They needed the Head of the House, not him. Never him. He could be replaced.

He dropped his head into one of his hands, his body shaking as he couldn’t contain a laugh that was building up inside him. However, something was distinctly wrong. His voice cracked and he was trying to discreetly, but failing, to wipe his face with his hand.

He was crying. He wasn’t sure where the well of emotions had come from. Perhaps it was the build-up over these past few months, perhaps it was because he had reached his breaking point, or perhaps it was because of the kindness Deianira was showing him. But tears were falling fast and he was in an odd state of catching his breath and letting out an airy laugh.

Without looking up, he had spoken. “How do you know what to say?” He made a final wipe of his tears using his sleeves - what a waste - and looked at Deianira with a weak but sincere smile. “Thank you.”

Deianira watched the entire display of emotions dumbfoundedly. Contrary to Desmond’s words, she actually didn’t know what to say. However, she did know what she wanted to do. As the Pride of Shantor, she has been trained to repress her wants, especially if it has no connection to her mission. But her father wasn't around to tell her what to do and she has been obedient to him all her life.

With a swift move, Deianira took Desmond’s disheveled form into her arms, enveloping him into an embrace. Her skin was cold and her hug was firm and even awkward, but she decided that she didn’t want to see any tears on his face. For her, sadness didn’t suit him. What suited him best was that grin of his. Irksome but bright- something that she has been lacking all her life.

His body froze as Deianira hugged him. It wasn't like this was his first time being embraced - but it was the first time Deianira did it. And sure, it was awkward and it felt like she had never done this before but it was hers and Desmond felt more at ease. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and reached out one arm to wrap around her.

Eventually, Deianira felt him grin. "Please don't tell me I've broken you Dei." He commented after a few seconds of the hug. "As much as it warms my heart to see that you care-" he paused, as if the statement was foreign to him for a moment. It shouldn't be, it was a joke he often used. And yet, it felt too serious on his tongue right now. "Well, I wouldn't want you growing too soft on me now."

“How do you know what to say?” Deianira retorted, repeating his words out of sarcasm. Now Desmond was laughing.

A Queen's Fall

Desmond couldn’t help but feel sorry for the woman that was past this door. For the past year, she was assaulted with rumors of her being unfaithful to her husband and her life has spiralled down. Nobles began to talk behind her back, those in the council began to ignore her completely, the servants gave her second glances, Diantha wondered what happened as to why everyone felt so distant towards her mother and the king, himself, was starting to get antsy.

Months of planning had gone into this. Inserting certain people in certain places. Making people talk was easy, however, since people always loved to gossip. They always liked to talk. No one could stamp down the fires of the rumors once it had started.

And tonight was the moment of truth. The day that would change everything.

He looked down at the bottle, and he felt something stir in his stomach. He knew fully well that there was no going back now. He went on to open the door, looking over at the two chairs and the small patio table that they’ve started to use as their hangout place a few months ago.

“Queen Morgana.” He called out as he raised the bottle and the two wine glasses he was holding. “How are you holding up? We’ve been trying to run damage control but… people talk. I’m sorry.” He sounded genuine as he walked towards her to place the items onto the patio table.

She felt weary, it has already been a year since the rumors has circulated and yet the Queen had looked like she’s aged by years due to the stress that the gossip has brought and the way people had began to see her. Never in her life would her love for Arthur become so fickle. Especially not when they had Diantha. Her daughter, her heart broke every single time she held a worried look on her face. “I… I don’t know, to be honest. Had I been a fool to think that my people, my husband would think of me this way?”

Needless to say she was glad to have a friend right now. Desmond, while different from all of the people in the castle, had been nothing but a great friend even despite their difference in position and age. And despite all of this drama, she is truly grateful to have an ally when all, no almost all is against her.

Desmond took a seat and popped open the bottle. “None of us had expected this. Truly, from what I see, you are completely faithful to your husband. Anyone with two eyes should have seen that.” And he was telling nothing but the truth. She was faithful to her husband. She had done absolutely nothing wrong. He shook his head and let out a sigh, pouring the wine into the two glasses - watching the red liquid swirl around inside the glasses. His stomach churned once more and he was becoming unsure why it did.

“To think-!” He stopped himself for a moment, gently putting down the wine bottle. “I… I was so sure that King Arthur would at least believe you. And yet…” He shook his head with a sigh as he picked up his glass and looked down on it. “And poor Dia. She’s been so confused.” And he did feel bad about that. She was so young. She couldn’t understand.

A sigh was all she could do give at the moment, she gently took a glass and cradled it as if it would break at the slightest force. Every minute that passes by her heart became heavier than it did the last, her eyes had become a glassy mist at the mention of her little Diore. “She doesn’t deserve this, to go through this is horrible for a child.” She would know, she’s been there. She drank the wine in one gulp, she wants to forget her worries as soon as possible, even if only for a moment. She didn’t want a repeat of what happened to her family then, happen to her family now. “If only things hadn’t gone this way, it would have been perfect.” She said solemnly with thought, taking the bottle and pouring herself another glass of wine.

“Indeed.” Desmond’s hold on the glass was firm as opposed to her softer touch. He drank from the wine, the taste was similar to what he always brought. He was only halfway through his when the queen was already pouring a second one - his warning for her to slow down got stuck in his throat. He can’t. He took another gulp of his wine. “Perfect…” He muttered under his breath and he felt the feeling on his stomach rise to his heart. “Yes, your family was practically the paragon of families.” He couldn’t help the bitter laugh that came out of his mouth as he finished his.

“Do you think this makes it better, my queen?” He questioned as he reached for the bottle to pour his own. “Do you ever feel better telling me this? Being able to tell anyone without judgement?” Desmond was curious how she worked. This was the last time he could ever have this conversation with her. She wouldn’t be able to speak about this moment, he could live a little from it.

She gave him a fond smile, it was sad but nevertheless it was a smile. “It does, a little bit. It lightens the weight on my chest but only for this moment, or maybe it’s because it’s my fourth glass of wine.” She quipped, her laugh was bubbly and her head had started to lightly spin. Suddenly she was serious, her smile had become a thin line, her eyes flared with anger. “Whoever did this is going to answer to me. How dare they do this to my family.” Rarely did Morgana show spite, and that was all before she became the Queen.

“Fourth?” Desmond couldn’t help but sputter out. He was only on his second. “But.” He cleared his throat and leaned back, trying to relax into his seat again. “But I’m glad that I help you even a little bit. Even if it is the wine doing most of the work.” He drank his own glass once again and he was thankful that he had prepared for this job. Or else, he imagined he would be much more nervous.

His stomach dropped when her anger was made clear. “Yes, yes, of course.” He quickly let out as he poured another glass for himself. It… He hadn’t seen this side of her before. He had always heard her to be the patient one - fun to be with. And he had confirmed that. Yet here she was, anger and spite radiating off of her being. Desmond would have never said she was terrifying before.

She was terrifying now. “The Cytirs will aid you however they can. Just say the word.” The words came out of his mouth faster than he could help.

He began to play with the glass he was holding. “Queen Morgana, if I may be so bold to ask, but…” Desmond shifted, body feeling heavier and he was sure it wasn’t from the poison. “You- why did you agree to become my friend?”

This made Morgana stopped in thought, wondering why the sudden question. “Because why not, Desmond? I’m not like those people in the council. They may see you as a joke but not me. Despite what they say, you are a wonderful person. Yes you are quite the flirt, as I have heard from our servants but you have been so good to Diore and that itself is enough for me to know that you are a good man.” She took his hand, holding it tenderly the way a mother to her own child. “You have been nothing but a great friend to me.”

And suddenly, Desmond felt like he needed something that hit harder than poisoned wine. He drank an entire glass once the queen had finished before pouring another one for himself. He tried to keep his eyes on her but ended up looking over to the view beyond them. “I-” He coughed. “I see. Thank you.” He said earnestly as he began to fidget more with the glass he was holding. “I suppose a bad man wouldn’t be so nice to a child.” He joked with a laugh before looking at the bottle.

It was time.

“Your highness, if I may suggest…” Desmond said as he looked back at her, driven by duty and loyalty. “There is a room at the tower I usually frequent. I believe I’ve told you how pretty the stars are when you view it from there. It’s very calming and relaxing.” He pointed out before sipping from his wine. “Perhaps you should go there? It might help you relax too. Get your head straight. Wine is nice, but it isn’t the most ideal.” He gave her a shrug as he raised the glass for a moment.

“You have.” Remembering, it had been weeks since the rumors started spreading like wildfire when Desmond had told her of the room. She was never much for towers, but it could be a nice sight to see and escape from all the dramatics. “Yes, perhaps you are right.” She stood up from her seat, giving her companion rueful look. “Desmond, if something happens to me, with how people see me right now. Take care of my daughter.” She spoke softly, but it wasn’t a question to be answered, a plea, it was an order as she stepped out of the room and headed for the tower.

Desmond smiled at her. “Of course. But nothing’s going to happen to you.” He watched as she left and he felt the urge to throw the wine glass over the railings or do something. Instead, he gulped down his fifth glass, knowing he could take no more yet tempted to have at least one more glass. He contemplated it for a while, holding the bottle with one hand and the glass on the other.

But, his work was not done. He can’t leave Deianira alone - not now, after everything they’ve done. He had to stay. There was also the queen’s order - her last order. She didn’t know it, but he did. Desmond would honor her last wish. He had to be there for Diantha and take care of her. He had to do that too.

So he grabbed the bottle of wine and the two glasses and left, heading off to dump the rest of the wine and hand it over to the Shantor. He returned to his room, placed the wine glasses into the cupboard, resting on its heads knowing that he would never use them again.

And if he stayed there all night, wondering what the heavy feeling in his heart was, or feeling the tears flow down - well, no one knew about that. No one will ever know about that.

“I’m sorry.”

Not long after her evening drink with Desmond, the Queen of Orh had found herself in front of the tower doors. The flight of stairs were tiresome to climb but she trusts in Desmond's judgment. He said the view is spectacular and surely it will. The creak of the door was loud enough to wake a whole house but she didn't pay it no mind.

The room was almost empty, save for a dusty old bed and portraits of even older royalty. His words were true, the view of the sky from the balcony is breathtaking, she can see the little light of homes in the dark sky and above is the specks of glittering dust and the ever so gracious moon. "It's beautiful, I should take Diore here tomorrow night." She knows her daughter will love it.

But what the Queen didn’t know, however, was that she was not alone in the room.

“I’m afraid you can’t, Queen Morgana.” A figure emerged from one of the shadowy corners of the room. Her pale skin and raven hair bathed in the moonlight, and soon it became apparent that she was none other than the head of Shantor. “There won’t be any morrow for you.” Her face held no emotion as she spoke, her tone dry as if she wasn’t foretelling a queen’s demise.

She didn’t think that there would be anybody else in the room during this time of the night but she thought wrong. She turned around, obviously surprised by the sudden intrusion of what was supposed to be her time of peace and quiet. But she didn’t mind the woman’s company if Deianira wanted to join her. “Goodness, Lady Deianira, you spooked me!” She smiled, then a small laughter followed it. “I didn’t think of you to be the type of being quite the jester.” She never bonded the way she did with Desmond but the Queen did want to get to know her better.

“Do you also come here for some peace? I imagined it was Desmond, who also told you of this place.” She looked back at the view, vulnerable. It truly was a beautiful sight, sadly she can’t thoroughly enjoy it. Her heart is heavy enough as it is and she has been getting dizzier and dizzier at each second that passes. “Oh, it seems I must go back to my chambers earlier than I’d want to.” Each step felt like there was a ball chained to her feet. She couldn’t keep her eyes open as she tried to make a form out of the now blurry head of Shantor. Trying to grasp the young woman only to grab hold of air. “H… elp.” Morgana croaked. The sudden ill feeling came out of the blue. “De...i…” Tears were starting to leak from her eyes as pain became stronger and stronger.

The Queen fell and Deianira watched. She watched while the woman whom she was told to imitate all her life writhed in agony, reaching out to her while pleading for help. And in that moment, Deianira couldn’t help but smile.

The sounds of footsteps blended with that of anguish as the Shantor approached the dying Queen. Mustering her strength, she reached out once again. Crying at the overwhelming pain. “Dei...a...nira, please… help me.” She bawled, now crawling her way to a fuzzy shape of dark red. Like the color of blood. Begging Deianira to help her, to move and help her up. “As Queen of Orh, I order you to help me!” Morgana screamed with all the strength she had left but it could barely be heard as one.

It was pathetic, really, and it almost made Deianira laugh. She craned down to the other woman’s desperate form, cupping her chin with her gloved hands before tilting it upwards so that she could look at her properly. “You’re no queen of mine.” She sharply whispered, lips curled into a scornful smile.

She couldn’t believe what she just heard. No queen of mine? How… It dawned on her that whatever it was happening to her was orchestrated by the head of House Shantor. Why, she couldn’t understand why. Has she done something wrong to the younger woman? Has she- “Why?” She asked hardly a whisper, growing weaker and weaker, in her mind there was only Diantha. What would happen to her daughter when this woman is still operating inside the castle.

“S-Stop this.” Weak. It was barely audible, she knew that. “Diantha, my daughter…” She tried to look at Deianira’s eyes, unable to recognize where it is but anger was apparent in Morgana’s eyes. “You’ll pay for this, one day. You’ll be punished.” Limp. Those were her last words. Unqueenly. Unseemingly of her character but it was genuine. The Queen is dead. No more was the woman adored by the King, the woman who gave birth to the Princess, the woman who tried her everything to be perfect in everyway.

Deianira remained unmoved even when Morgana’s eyes bore through hers as she spat to curse her. She felt nothing even when she witnessed a mother choke her daughter’s name in desperation. But she felt triumphant when the Queen turned cold in her hands. Years of preparation finally coming into fruition. Now, only the next step awaits and she’ll be finally done with this phase. She’ll return to Des, celebrate with him, and bring honor to her family.

With that in mind, Deianira used her magic to gather the Queen’s essence and to call it back into life. Lo, as Morgana’s spirit slowly materialized on top of her corpse, spectral chains binding her to her own murderer. The Queen was completely at Deianira’s mercy. The Shantor’s magic restrained her, forcing every fiber of her being to obey the necromancer regardless of her will.

“All my life, I heeded your every word. All my life, everything was about you and that foolish husband of yours. All my life....” Deianira bitterly said, her words dropping like poison, slow but virulent. With a flick of her wrist, the Queen’s spirit was pulled back to her body, the spectral chains disappearing from sight but her bind to the other didn’t. Deianira’s silver eyes looked down upon the undead at her feet. “Kneel.” She commanded and the Queen had no other choice but to obey.

It was quite the sight. The once regal queen of Ohr, helplessly on her knees, bowing to the very woman who connived for her life. “Tell me. How does it feel to be on the other end? To have your every will, your every right, your very life stripped away because of someone? Speak!” Her voice was broken with anger, her eyes burning the queen with fury.

Maybe Morgana was feeling fear, if only it was apparent how pale she felt. Anger and fear is a dangerous mix of emotion but she can’t do anything about it. As Deianira had mentioned, she is at the young woman’s mercy. The anger the woman held was just as intense as hers, but the Queen could feel that this hatred the councilwoman has runs deeper, colder. Without any choice, she was forced to kneel. A heavy unknown weight held her down. “Terrifying.” She whimpered angrily. She didn’t want to give an answer but she has no free will.

Deianira let out a laugh. It was a small sound, a haunting blend of joy and bitterness that echoed throughout the dark room. “Welcome to my life.” She whispered as the sinister expression on her face dissipated.

With a flick of her wrist, the Shantor gave another command. “Stand up and walk to the windows.” She uttered, remaining on her position and pointing at the large open window framed by ghostly curtains. The cold wind softly blew, as though it was anticipating the dead queen.

Morgana tried hard to stop herself with all her effort but it was no use, she walked. Even if she is dead she had ever growing fear for Deianira’s plans, tears ran down her face that is if you could still call it tears. With every step, her core was in shiver, until she was standing at the edge of the tower’s window.

“Stop and look at your kingdom- your people.” Came another order just as the Queen reached the window still.

Even in the dead of night, there were people still roaming around, her subjects. One gasped at the sight of her and others were drawn to the attention. She could barely hear it, but from the sight of it she could see people panicking. "So this is how you want it to be? Have everyone see me as weak-willed that I'd kill myself over shallow rumors?" She'd ask why the woman would do such a thing because surely there must be a reason but it was pointless to ask.

“It’s such a shame, isn’t it?” Deianira once again spoke from behind, her form concealed by shadows so the citizens won’t be able to spot her. “You had everything someone could ever ask for. A prosperous kingdom, a loving husband, and an adoring daughter; yet, one day you wake up and each of them were against you. All because your husband made one foolish move and you were naive enough to trust everyone you meet.” Was it sympathy in her voice? Mockery? Who could know? “This is your end, Morgana. It’s unfitting for the beloved Queen of Orh, but fitting for an unfaithful wife and a disgraceful mother. The coward of a woman who took the easy way out. It's pathetic that it's how you'll be remembered.” An ominous silence grew between the women before Deianira continued. “But take comfort in knowing that I will take everything you’ve ever lost.”

Of all the things the woman had said, one stuck in her mind. Naive to trust everyone, it dawned on her that it was the wine she drank earlier this evening that made all of this possible. If a heart was made of glass then hers would have been smashed to dust. "Desmond..." She whispered to herself, as if a year full of doubt hadn't been enough and now one of her most trusted friends just happened to be a vital part of her death. She turned around to face the necromancer. "One day, your life, no. Your lives will crumble just as you did mine." Every word was filled with hurt, poisoned with resentment, as the tears still continued to flow down her eyes.

In the silence of the moment, the two women found themselves looking at each other, each holding their own pain and hatred. Still, only one of them will leave the tower alive. Deianira’s lips curled into a sinister smirk before she gave her final command.

“Fall.”

A Toast of Celebration

It had been a week since the queen’s death. The entire kingdom went into mourning - despite the rumors that had dirtied her reputation, the death of the royal was still grave news. A melancholic air hung over the entire kingdom as it mourned for the lost of their queen. She had been recently buried in the royal cemetery, forever remembered as a kind yet traitorous - but who knows what the historians will write down in their books.

Desmond, however, knew what to remember her by. In any angle, she seemed to have been the perfect wife - a nearly perfect human being who let her kindness rule her actions. Truly, it was very unfortunate that she was the one to wed the king first. He wondered if there was a world out there that she wasn’t the one who won the Selection. He wondered if there was a world out there where he and Deianira would not have needed to kill her.

Ah, there were infinite possibilities and yet they found themselves in this one.

He found himself in Shantor castle for it was the only place where they could safely converse… and rejoice for their successful mission. They had disposed of the main obstacle to Deianira’s rise to power. Now, all they had to do was wait for the next Selection. They were confident Deianira could take the crown immediately, for she was a prodigy. She was intelligent and powerful - there was no comprehensible way that she would lose to any of the other contestants. And if someone else posed a threat… well, there were ways for them to be sure.

“Good morning Bartholomew.” He greeted the aged butler. “To the guest room?”

“Personal quarters, sir.” The butler replied before gesturing for him to follow.

Just like he did all those years ago, he followed the butler down the halls of the Elsombra household. He had familiarized himself with the entire palace due to his frequent visits. There were discussions they could do only within the safe bounds of the shadows.

The door to Deianira’s private chamber opened with a gentle creak. It was a commodious room that appeared to be rather dull and lackluster. What little ornaments available were nothing but golden reminders of the prestige House. Sitting on the edge of a large dark canopy bed was none other than a pale and dark-haired young woman enjoying a glass of wine.

Deianira turned to look at her visitor, silently taking a sip from her red liquor while the butler left her and Desmond to their own seclusion. She tapped the spot next to her, urging her friend to come and sit beside her. She then reached out to her bedside table and grabbed a clean glass before pouring the same red wine into it.

“A toast.” The woman offered the new glass to her ally before raising her own.

Desmond’s face broke into a smile as he entered the room, giving a nod to the butler before heading over to her side. “Thank you.” He muttered as he accepted the glass, collapsing onto the bed with a small bounce. He immediately leaned backwards, using his hand to balance himself.

“A toast to our successful mission.” He raised his glass to meet with hers. With that, he immediately drank from his wine. There was no time to dawdle in his regrets and his thoughts - not when she was with him.

However, his grin faltered. “Dei… are you alright?” He asked, reaching out to her shoulder, concern plain in his voice. “You look a little…” Desmond leaned forward, knitting his eyebrows in worry. “Off? Have you rested well? Has something been ailing you?”

The female’s weariness became more apparent as he drew closer. She appeared to be more ghostly than usual and tired lines flawed underneath her eyes. “I’m fine.” Dei mumbled when her jaded silver orbs found his own. “I’ve never been better.” It sounded like an afterthought. She then emptied the remaining content of her glass before pouring herself another and repeating the process.

Desmond rolled his eyes as he finished his glass of wine and placing it down onto the table. He would hold off the celebrations until he knows what’s happening. “Dei, anyone with two eyes can see that you’re not better at all.” His voice turned soft as he urged her to look back at him and he was tempted to make her put down the wine glass first. “You can tell me anything.” He ran his thumb against her cheek, giving her a reassuring smile. “Please?”

Perhaps she should’ve known better. There was no way she could get away with a lie from him. At least a minute of heavy silence passed between the two before Deianira eventually gave in. “...She told me I’ll pay for everything I’ve done. That my life will crumble just as hers did.” She confessed, her haunted eyes piercing into his, and there was a trace of uncertainty present during that moment. She placed her free hand on top of his as he caressed her cheek, her skin as cold as ice. “It was the last thing she said.”

“Oh.” Desmond remembered their talk as well - how she would make them pay for what they’ve done, had she known who spread the rumors. Could it be that even in death, she still planned on- no, that’s impossible. Without the Shantor necromancers, she couldn’t possibly do it. “Perhaps, one day, judgement will come to pass.” He said, placing the truth forward instead of comfort. “But I’ll do my damn hardest to make sure you’re safe.”

He let out a short and hollow chuckle. “Besides, if the time does come… whenever that is…” He stared right at her, sincerity dripping from his voice and clear in his eyes. “I’ll be with you. I’ll never leave you. We face every hardship together.”

Dei found herself lost in his eyes, his promise pulling her out from some sort of a nightmare she never knew she was having. Her hold on his hands tightened. “Together,” she echoed his words before closing her eyes. She felt comfortable in the stillness. She felt secured even though they were drowning in sin. It might end up as them against the world, but she has nothing to fear. For she knew it should be the other way around.

Everyone should be afraid of them.

The Shantor opened her eyes and they once again found his. The ends of her lips curled into a smile. “Terrified,” she began, “She told me she was terrified before she fell to her death. She died helpless and alone, loathed and betrayed.” It might have been the first time he saw her smile but it was far from what most people would expect. “She deserves it.” If it weren’t for her and her family, she and Des won’t have to bare such heavy sins.

Desmond didn’t quite know what he was feeling. Fear? Admiration? Something else entirely? Or, possibly, all of it at the same time? And yet, he couldn’t pull away. There was no possible way in his head for him to back out - never, no matter what happens. No matter where she goes, he will follow. And if she falls, he falls with her. Their dance will forever continue, even if they were both broken by the weight of their actions.

And yet, he couldn’t agree with her. Whatever he wanted to say died in his throat as the memories of the queen - the late queen - flooded back. He had looked into her personal histories, had his Whispers check around for more information. Her family life had been rough from what he had collected and she deserved more than what they had given to her. There was no doubt about that. She deserved the happy life that she had envisioned - with her husband and her daughter.

But Dei deserved more. She worked hard for everything. She suffered so much for this. She was molded for this position by her family - and that effort to survive and push through was more than what Queen Morgana had gone through.

“And you deserve the crown, for all you’ve been through.” He said with absolute confidence. “Remember that.” He let out a huff. “You deserve even more than that Dei. But we’ll start small.” He gave her a wink and pulled his hand away slowly. He reached over to his cup and refilled it with wine.

He raised it to her. “Cheers, to the new queen of Orh.”

“Long may she reign.” She responded, her glass touching with his before they once again drowned themselves in their own poison.

The New Queen of Orh

It's been more than a year since the death of the late Queen Morgana. More than a year of both King Arthur and Princess Diantha mourning the loss of a wife and a mother. Both were awaiting in the throne room, but it wasn't just them who were waiting but a mass of Orhian stood within the castle walls. Waiting. It was an odd event for the two living royals, both of their eyes were glassy, empty of emotion. Then came the trumpets, it was a day of celebration after all. "May I present, Lady Deianira Oca Victoria Enriquetta Issandra Salvia Tiera Hermosa Orlanda Tristessa Elsombra, the new Queen of Orh!" Bellowed the Crier as the people cheered.

The last few words had made Arthur grip the crown with more force than needed. He was crowning the new Queen today, in front of everyone and his own daughter. If it weren’t for the Law, he wouldn’t have done so if he could. As for the young Diantha, eyes puff from the relentless crying even until now, she was still so unsure about everything that was happening but one thing is for sure, no one can replace her mother.

The castle’s massive oaken doors opened wide to welcome the new member of the regime. Deianira dazzled the crowd with her red gown that blazed against her skin like searing flames on freezing snow. She scorched the royal blue carpet with her presence, carrying herself with an air of sophisticated grace that left people in awe.

Behind the majestic woman were rows of personages wearing the Shantor’s crest on their dark clothing led by a silver-haired man whose left eye hid behind a black eyepatch. It was Lord Valyr walking after his daughter like a shepherd herding his lambs, each of them possessing the same elegance as him.

It was definitely a moment that will forever linger in the history of Orh. A moment exalted with joy and regality that bards will sing about, poets will write about, and historians will immortalize in the minds of many. It was the Shantors taking their steps to ascension.

Finally, the winding walk came to a stop as the new Queen found herself facing the King. The Shantors moved to their designated seat while the people recovered from the grand display. Murmurs and whispers were quick to follow. Most applauded the Shantors for their prestige, some couldn’t help but talk about how easily Deianira won The Selection, while a few couldn’t stop themselves from mentioning the first Queen.

Silence filled the great halls when Deianira gently fell to both knees right in front of Arthur and bowed her head. To this King, she will bow… at least for now.

He gave her a stare, a slight hesitation on putting something that once belonged to his beloved to someone else’s but he did. Gingerly placing the gold, alexandrite-filled crown on top of Deianira’s head. He wondered how the future will be, a loveless marriage, how will she treat his daughter, he knew of her capabilities as a councilwoman, a great one at that but personally he knew nothing.

"You won the trial, you have shown your worth to all of Orh. Stand proudly and look at the people that will look up to you in their time of need." He said, taking the young woman's hand and placed the ametrine-stoned ring to her delicate finger, “I take you as my wife, my queen and I your husband, your king. We lead this Kingdom together until death do us part.”

The King’s hands were rough and calloused; his words were forced and dry. The crown felt heavy on her head, and the ring felt cold around her finger. Deianira’s eyes flickered to the King’s then to her people, all of them looking at her expectantly. Then she found her Father, smiling at her proudly as though she was doing the most righteous thing in the world. Then, there was Des, watching them along with the rest of the council. Dei was reminded of the many things they had to endure to reach this moment. This was it. The fruit of their suffering.

Deianira took a deep breath and faced her people, “I, Deianira Elsombra, revoke my title as the head of Shantor. As such, I appoint my father, Lord Valyr Elsombra, to take the position and lead our house for the glory of the Kingdom.” A round of applause followed before she spoke more. “For today and forevermore, I stand in front of my people as their Queen!” Then the cheers resurfaced, much louder and dignified this time.

“All hail Queen Deianira!”

As the chants grew relentlessly, the new Queen of Orh faced her King, gently grabbing him by the cheek while her other one remained joined with his. “And I stand in front of my King and husband, as his dutiful Queen and faithful wife.”

Arthur held Deianira's hand and gently pulled her into a kiss. It was nothing spectacular, it didn't make hearts beat. It was just that, a kiss. Nothing more, nothing special. Empty. He wished it was Morgana in his arms but the silver eyes that stared back at him proves otherwise. The deed was done, as people cheered, forever etched in Orh's history.

Hide and Seek

It was quiet, save for the clanking of the silver utensils as the two bask in the well candle-lit room. Diantha won't say it out loud but the silence was uncomfortable, and it had been this way for two months since the wedding. Every breakfast, dinner and lunch was just the two of them and an empty seat for her father. He has done nothing but Kingly duties- it was infuriating for the young child. It was as if she became invisible to his eyes. The smell of the various food was truly inviting, but there was too much for just two people. Add the fact that her appetite had become less and less in the course of a year.

She ate in silence, eyes fluttering to her food then to her step-mother. She wondered what the woman was thinking every time, ask questions but it was also quite hard to approach her. “I think I’m done eating.” She got herself down from her seat with little difficulty due to her height. “I’ll be heading back to my chambers, Queen Deianira.”

“Wait,” came the woman’s unexpected response, “Would you like to walk with me in the garden?” It was the first time something aside from her usual dryness surfaced in her tone. It sounded rather rushed and almost unsure, thickening the already suffocating awkwardness in the air.

Diantha didn't expect for Deianira to suddenly ask her to take a walk with her. She hasn't been to the garden in a long time, she even made sure that she was the only one inside the room to confirm that the woman was indeed talking to her. "Um…" It took a bit for her to process what was happening but in the end she agreed. She lead the way to the garden, just a few steps ahead with a skip.

The walk to the palace garden was a short and quiet one. The moon softly beamed upon the queen and the princess, soaking their raven hair with gentle blues. The floras danced with the nightly breezed, lulling the small birds and garden Egnarions into peaceful sleep. It was truly an enchanting scene, tranquil and still if not for the ever looming discomfiture between the two.

Deianira found her eyes drifting to the small child a few steps ahead of her. She knew she should say something yet she couldn’t seem to find the words. It was way easier to infiltrate the royal vault than to converse with the young princess. A part of her knew that it simply wasn’t because she was bad at talking in general. She knew something deeper was to be blamed.

“The flowers are… beautiful, aren’t they?” The Queen began, obviously failing to claw for a better subject.

"They are." The princess answered a bit more cheery compared to before. She did love the gardens best. She hurried over to a patch of flowers and plucked one out. "These are my favorite. It's called Akaetsu." She showed her older companion the beautiful flower, it's petals were red and is shaped like a drop of blood at its ends. It gave off a strong smell if you put it close enough, but it was the prettiest to look at. "It means The Bleeding Flower. I can name all the flowers here if you wanna know more about them." It was her and her mother's past time. Why they were always in the garden, Morgana teaching her about such and playing by the maze.

The maze. Diantha tugged on the woman's sleeves, wondering if she would agree to her idea. "Can you play with me?" Her tone was innocent as can be, with matching puppy dog eyes to make it harder to refuse. "Please?" The servants were too stiff to have fun with, Deianira was stiffer but it seemed she was making an effort to be close to her and the child wanted that.

Between the girl’s emerald eyes and the scarlet flower, Deanira didn’t know where to look. She found both of them to be somewhat evocative and she has no idea what to do about it. Diantha looked awfully similar to her mother.

“Des, castle garden, right now.” In the heart of such trying times, the Queen found herself urgently calling her friend using their untold channel.

Even though she has called for backup, she still needed to remedy the surface of the problem. Deianira hesitantly reached a hand out and placed it on Diantha’s head, as though she was back to her childhood and was taming her Rigozi. “Alright,” She finally responded although a bit hesitantly, “Which game?”

The child's smile was as mischievous as an imp the moment the new Queen accepted her request. Now to know which game can be played in the gardens, and during the night. A game of tag would be too strenuous, a guessing of the flowers in the garden would be too easy for Diantha and she doesn't really know if Deianira is that knowledgeable about them, a game of hide and seek would be… perfect!

Diantha giggled, with the moon as the only main source of light it would be easier to hide with the use of the maze in the darkness. "Hide and seek! You will have to find me… in the maze." She pointed towards the tall shrub walls taking up half of the gardens and designed with different sorts of flowers. "You gotta count until twenty before you go and find me, okay?" And with that she ran to the flowery labyrinth, not waiting for the woman's say in the matter.

Diantha blinked. She stood in her position for exactly twenty seconds before waving her hands. A handful of spectrals materialized in front of her, all of them bowing before her as they waited for her command. Perhaps it was cheating, but the Queen had never played hide-and-seek before… or any other games for that matter. The childish and harmless versions, at least.

“Go find the child then report to me.” She whispered her command before the ghosts disappeared from plain sight.

The child was giggling to herself as she found the perfect hiding spot. Deep in the maze, at one of the corners there is an opening hidden by vines, and it fits her size just perfectly. "She'll have a hard time finding me here." She whispered to herself. But she's an impatient little imp, it had only been a few minutes and she was starting to get antsy because there was no sign of Deianira searching for her. No footsteps, no shouting, no nothing. She shifted closer to the vines, opting to get a look of her playmate was nearing but upon brushing away the hopvine only to be greeted by an ugly glowing skull.

"AAAAAAaaaaaaAAAAAAHHHhhhHhhhh!!" She screamed from the top of her lungs, her heart felt like it stopped beating from the shock. It did nothing but stare at her, something that made it more scarier than it already is. She ran back to where she last saw the Queen, "THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE MAZE!"

With the message received, Desmond had to quickly make his way back to the castle grounds. He had planned on enjoying a night out of the castle but just as he was about to leave, Deianira had called out. Just an urgent request to go to the castle garden. But of course, he imagined it was something rather serious. It wasn't every day that she wanted to meet in person right then and there when telepathic communication was readily available.

Just as he had stepped into the garden, a scream pierced through the silent night - likely alerting every guard in the vicinity. But what worried Desmond more was that he knew that scream. Quickly making his way through the garden in search for either Deianira or Diantha, he stumbled upon the screaming girl or rather she bumping into him.

"Diore!" He called out. "Are you alright?" He quickly asked as he dropped down to his knee to properly check the girl for any injuries - momentarily forgetting about Deianira's call for urgency in the garden.

Her breathing was heavy from all the screaming and running. She couldn't form a coherent sentence from both the lack of oxygen and shock. "There was… was this… glowing… skull." She pointed towards the maze and it was clear how frightened she was at what she saw. "Uncle Des, how do we get rid of it?" Her eyes were pleading as she hugged him.

A glowing… skull? He was aware of a being that could create something akin to a glowing skull. He rubbed the child's back in a soothing manner to calm her down as he began to connect the dots. Deianira had called for him to the castle grounds. Diantha was running away from what sounded like a spectral. It was either there was some failure of an assassin going around or, the more likely instance, Deianira was using her spectrals around the maze.

"I think I have an idea." Desmond proclaimed and then gestured for her to release him from the hug. He stood up and held her hand. "Let's go see where that glowing skull is coming from and I think I know the magic trick to making it go away." Diantha nodded silently and let herself be led by the head of House Cytir.

It became apparent that the two of them didn’t need to go anywhere else when the root of the poor child’s shock walked in, a bunch of the ghostly culprits trailing her from behind. Deianira furrowed her brows in confusion when she saw her friend and her step-daughter together. She felt troubled that something might have happened to Diantha when she screamed so seeing her with the man was definitely puzzling. Eventually, she recalled calling the councilman for back-up and everything clicked.

The Queen looked at the two wordlessly, an awkward silence consuming her once more. It has now dawned on her that her spectrals scared the crown princess. Of course, as a necromancer, she was used to such a reaction so it didn’t spite her. In fact, she scolded herself for the screw-up. She should’ve expected the child to be petrified of her minions’ appearances.

“...Hey.” She reluctantly waved her hand at the duo, her spectrals doing the same from behind her.

Imagine Diantha's shock when she found the very same things she feared was behind her stepmother. But only one thing came to her mind, she stomped her feet towards the older woman with a face of annoyance. "You cheated!" Blue eyes accused with a pointed finger. "You’re not supposed to use your magic." She finished with a pout and crossing her arms.

Never in Deianira’s life did she expect that a child would point a finger at her and call her a cheater. Needless to say, a mixture of an offended and confused look ran on her face and she found herself staring at Desmond, silently seeking his aid.

Much like his friend, Desmond was stunned when Diantha bravely marched up to the queen and accused her of cheating. He looked at her and then to Deianira and then back to the child, pursing his lips in thought. So… it would seem like they were playing a game of sorts. And whatever this game was, Deianira had seen it fit to use her spectrals instead of walking around herself.

As his eyes met with Deianira's, his lips curled into a smirk as he walked forward and innocently clasped his hands behind his back. "Diore does have a good point." He started, shifting his gaze to the spectrals and gave them a nod of acknowledgment. "You can't use magic in playing. That's just plain old cheating - I thought you knew better Dei." He let out a sigh of disappointment, but the face he was making made it obvious that he was just joking.

Deianira knitted her brows when Diantha gained Desmond’s support. It was ridiculous and she felt betrayed. “I didn’t know the rules.” Came her annoyed albeit honest defense. “I’ll do better next time.” Those weren’t exactly her favorite words.

Diantha’s pout then turned into a big and wide grin. Like she had won a battle thought to be unbeatable. “So those glowy things are your magic? I’ve never seen anything like it!” Diantha got closer to Deianira, knowing that whatever it was isn’t going to harm her. "Indeed. It's called necromancy- a very rare magic." Garnering a newfound curiosity towards the ghostly being, the child walked closer. “What can these do?” She poked a finger which only passed through it. “Are they fast? Can I play tag with them?” Eyes shining at the idea, finding it extremely fun.

The child’s sudden shift in mood took the queen by surprise but she didn’t show it. She watched the girl’s futile attempts to touch her minions and internally wondered how she’d react if she found out they were the souls of fallen ones and were now forever bound to do her every whim. “No. You won’t be able to touch them.” She said before moving her hands to cast a spell. The shadows beneath and around the trio gathered to construct three humanoid armors, each about a head taller than the woman. She then used her magic to pull the spectrals into the constructs, successfully giving them functional physical forms. “Now you can.”

The chakas walked towards the crown princess, bending one knee in front of her so they were somewhat at the same level. “A...Abubudadah…” They all groaned out in unison.

She didn't really understand what the things said, it was odd and funny. She laughed. Somewhat scary looking with the glowing eyes but can't make a decent word. She pressed her finger to the one nearest to her, "Tag! You're it!" She ran, once again, like she had all the energy in the world. "Catch me if you can, armored men!"

Running off into the night without a care in the world, the three chakas then went after her. In the distance of where the two grown ups had stayed, both screaming and laughter could be heard. Diantha was having a blast playing with the shadow knights created by essence.

Desmond couldn't help but grin as Diantha began to play with the constructs. It wasn't everyday he got to see them used like this - in fact, it might be the first time he's seen them in use so innocently. Usually they were… ah, well, it's not something he should think about right now.

He placed himself beside the queen. "I'd say you're doing an excellent job so far. Diore is warming up to you." He remarked, low enough so that only she may hear his words. Diantha was far enough anyway. "Or well, it's a start." He continued as he watched the girl run around, being chased by the chakas.

Deianira crossed her arms, her palms resting on the side of her biceps. “I’m not making any progress with the King, though.” She admitted, almost ashamed, but what she confessed held truth. Arthur and her has been married for two months and counting yet they have neither shared the bed nor any warmth at all. He was always away and drowning himself with work and liquor. It wasn’t exactly hard to see why and it wasn’t just her who found it so. “Some people in the palace are beginning to talk.”

The mention of the king made Desmond's face scrunch up for a moment. He bore no ill will towards the man, but he was proving to be a challenge and a half. He let out a sigh, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Her death made quite a toll on him." He muttered. "He's become a shut in and a work-a-holic. I don't blame you for not making any progress." Even he would have trouble seducing a man who lost someone so dear to him that he changed completely.

"I do feel sorry for Diore though." He continued. "Ever since her death, Arthur hasn't even been paying attention to his own daughter." Everyone was turning a blind eye to it because it was the royal family's business - but their business was his business. "I'll handle the whispers. Just… keep entertaining Diore. She needs the support. Arthur will come around sooner or later."

The Queen kept her eyes on the giggling form of Diantha. It wasn’t like she wanted the King’s affection- quite the opposite if anything. If she could choose for herself, then she would rather not be involved with him at all. The child, however, was a different matter. It was strange, but now she felt as if she could understand her. She was once just like her, seeking the attention of a father. In that moment, Diantha changed from being the ghost of her sin to being a reflection of who she once was- a girl seeking for a father’s attention.

While the two adults indulged in each other’s solace, the three chakas came back. One of which was carrying a heavy-eyed Diantha on its back and they all eventually made it in front of the two. "I wanna play some more." The princess quipped weakly, exhausted from all the playing.

He moved to Diantha, chuckling as he ruffled her hair a bit. "I'd play with you but you seem a bit tired there." Desmond pointed out as he pinched her cheek with a small smirk. "I think you should go to bed and rest up." He looked back to the current queen. "Don't you agree, Dei?"

Deianira stared at him for a good moment before nodding her head.

"See? Even Dei agrees." Desmond said as he turned back to the obviously tired princess, a soft smile spreading to his face. "Let's get you tucked into bed. I promise I'll play with you tomorrow if you do~" It wasn't like he was busy for the week. He could spare an hour or two with the princess. And it was nice to just not worry about anything every now and then.

The child whined she did still wanted to play despite the lifelessness of her limbs, even if she had no say in the matter by then, and after that she had already fallen fast asleep. Face for once in the past few months, peaceful.

“Des, carry her.” The queen ordered, glancing at the man with her arms still crossed. She knew some folks in the castle were still far too squeamish to not freak out whenever they see anything undead.

"Okay, okay…" Desmond muttered as he gathered up the child in his arms, giving a nod of appreciation to the chaka even if he was well aware that it didn't exactly have the capabilities of feeling any emotions. He turned to Deianira who revoked her spell and returned the chakas into essences. "Lead the way then."

The walk to the princess’ bedroom was peacefully uneventful. Not many servants roamed the palace although there were plenty of guards who gave their salute to the monarchs and the councilman. Casual chatters would sometimes fill the comfortable silence between Desmond and Deianira until they eventually reached their destination.

The Queen opened the oaken door leading to the sleeping girl’s quarters, doing so in a careful manner as to avoid waking her up. She went in and ushered Desmond in before closing the door in an equally gentle manner.

Desmond was quick to enter and gently laid the princess down to her bed, grabbing the blanket and putting it over her before stepping back. "Good night, princess." He whispered. He wasn't keen on rousing the young one from her sleep. With a nod to Deianira, he made his way to the door, allowing the queen space to do whatever it is she wanted to do before they leave.

While her being carried towards her room had been quiet, being tucked into bed had slightly awoken her sleepy eyes. In a blur she could see Desmond's form by the door leaving, although she doesn't really know that it was him. She felt like she was dreaming after all. She took hold of Deianira's fingers, yawning before asking, "Please stay." There was a loneliness to how she asked, and looked at the woman.

The princess’ hold was warm and it definitely took her step-mother by surprise. She blinked at the request before turning to Des, only to see that he was smiling and gestured for her to do as she was told. She felt somewhat helpless, her brain rummaging for any lessons her father taught her about interacting with a daughter yet she found none. However, the glimmer of sadness in the child’s eyes seemed to have evoked a feeling from within her. Sympathy? She didn’t know. What she did know was that she found herself giving in.

Deianira sat on the bed’s edge, beside the tired girl, their hands still joined. She used her free hand to run her hands along the other’s dark locks in a soothing manner. It was something that she remembered a maidservant from her childhood would do whenever she was having trouble sleeping. Then she would sing her songs, lulling melodies that would send her straight to a peaceful slumber without fail.

A hum filled the four corners of the room before it ultimately turned into a lullaby. The queen’s voice was quiet and gentle, like the cold but tranquil sea underneath the moonlight.

The princess tried to stifle a yawn, finding Deianira's voice pleasant to the ears. The more she listened the harder it was to fight off the sleep. She wanted to hear more of it. "Pretty..." Was the last thing she said before finally letting her sleepiness overcome her.

Desmond leaned against the door, the smile only softening as he watched Deianira hum a lullaby for the child. It was cut and would certainly help Diantha back to her slumber. Though, seeing Deianira like that… well, it made him happy. He hoped it wouldn't be the last time she would be like that to her stepdaughter.

The King and Queen

Arthur had just finished all of his Kingly duties for the day. He sat idly in his chair in the meeting room, deep in thought. He had heard talks of Deianira spending time with his daughter more and more. He had been failing as a father, and he knew that will continue in the future while his heart still ached for Morgana. If only Diantha didn't remind him so much of her mother. He sighed, feeling as if he has forgotten something important.

He shook his head and got up to leave the room. People in the castle now tend to stray away from his path, thinking that he’d rather be left alone than deal with others. They all wanted the approachable King they once had. His walk to the dining had been peaceful as always, the sight that greets him is that of emptiness save for the plethora of food in front of him. He barely has any appetite to eat, if he was being honest, but he knew that consumption of food was needed for him to function properly.

He sat and ate. The clinking of the spoon and fork echoed in the room. He was never there when Diantha and Deianira ate in the dining room, and only now did he realize how lonely everything has been for him.

The King’s solitude crumbled when the dining hall welcomed the Queen, the clicks of her heels filling the abating silence. She found herself sitting beside her husband in a matter of moments, her silver eyes drifting to the tormented man. It has almost been five months since they shared their vows; and even though they were but a few spaces apart, there was still a harrowing distance between them.

“It’s Diantha’s birthday a week from now.” Deianira began, knowing fully well that the sovereign forgot the upcoming occasion. “She wants to throw a celebration at the square along with our people and… her father.” The woman now faced him fully, her usual serious expression etched on her features yet it seemed to hold an underlying warmth.

He stopped in his tracks, he and his wife never truly interacted much since the wedding but her words truly put him in a shocked state. Drowning himself in sadness truly did nothing for his relationship with the people around him. "Of course, Diantha." He said meekly. Turning to the woman who reminded him of a very special day.

It was as if he was truly looking at his wife for the first time. He was unsure what to call her, be utterly formal perhaps? Queen Deianira? He's still not used to it, to her presence. He only did so because it was his duty. "Thank you for reminding me. I will be there." He couldn't deny that her presence brought a different energy to the room, it felt less lonesome.

After that there was only silence, he found it a bit unnerving to have someone in his company but with nothing to talk about other than duties. "How is Diantha? I heard the two of you have been getting along quite well." He started since it was a question that held his interest after all, he didn't see this turn of events.

“She’s been well.” The woman answered. It was true that she and the little girl has been spending a good amount of time with each other these past few days. In fact, she could even claim with confidence that the child has warmed up to her. The thought invoked a certain warmth from within her. It admittedly felt nice. “She can be quite rowdy and difficult sometimes but she’s definitely a kind-hearted girl. Yesterday, I caught her sliding down the stair railings and almost fell. Then the day before that, I taught her how to bake a cake with the other maidservants. She made quite a mess and in the end we weren’t able to make anything edible.” Her face remained blank but the King would be able to recognize the speck of mirth if he tried.

The Queen then eyed him once again. “I think you’re missing a lot, Arthur.” She has always been a frank woman even when she was still in the council. “Diantha doesn’t only need you on her birthday. She needs her father everyday. I’m doing my best to be with her but I know she still feels lonely without you around.”

His heart sank at every word the woman had said. As if there was a bile stuck on his throat just waiting to be released. His lips quivered, knowing how hard it has been for both him and his daughter yet he chose to avoid the pain of remembering Morgana by avoiding Diantha. "I know." He began to curl his fist as his teeth grinded in frustration.

"It's just…" Maybe this wasn’t the best time, there won't be a best and the new Queen wasn’t truly the person he should be saying this about. "I can't fathom the thought of Morgana killing herself, she is strong. I never took her as one to be…"

He sighed in defeat. "I guess people really do surprise you in the end." He shook his head slightly, getting up from his seat and walking besides Deianira and held out his hand. "Walk with me?" A question asked in an unsure tone. It wasn’t like people took a liking to walking in the dead of night.

Luckily for the King, his new wife was unlike most people. She was the truest of Shantor, born and raised in darkness. If there was anyone who would accept such offer in the peak of night, it would be her. “Of course,” the Queen took his hand, “The night offers beauty most cannot see.” There was confidence in the way she uttered her words, a striking contrast to the man’s doubtful ones.

“There are plenty of things that people cannot see. Sometimes it’s because we refuse to see it, but most of the times it’s because we choose to hide it.” The wind that softly grazed their skin felt cold as they walked alongside each other. “It’s the same as weaknesses. The truth is nobody wants to see or show them. Perhaps, the late queen felt the same.”

The King listened as they walked on the cold marble floors of the castle. His posture impeccably perfect as he always held himself, hands tied together behind his back. "Perhaps so," he said with a resentful agreement. Now he was wondering if things could have changed if he noticed. He was such a fool. "To be honest, I never expected you to get along with Diantha." He started, halting to a stop.

He looked at Deianira as if he was trying to comprehend a complex problem. "Since you became head of the House you had been nothing but quiet, and calculating. You've been reserved and hard to read yet my daughter has taken quite a liking to you." This time he smiled, it was faint but he was happy his daughter is not spiraling in her loneliness anymore like he is. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

Deianira slightly paused at the question. There were so many things she wanted but shouldn’t tell him. “I wasn’t expecting it either.” She answered and even she herself wasn’t sure if it was truthful or not. “I’ve always been bad with children… or people in general. I prefer to observe and to listen but it’s mostly because I don’t know what to say most of the times.” A small smile brushed her face as she reminisced Desmond’s words from years ago.

“How do you know what to say?” He said while she held him and she felt glad that that moment was unlike most of the times.

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. “My mother died when she gave birth to me and my father was the one who raised me. I know he tried his best but he always felt… like he was worlds away. In the end, perhaps this is why there seems to be a connection between Diantha and I.” Deianira could only hope that what she was saying made sense to Arthur.

He nodded, finding her situation understandable but not relatable. Arthur, in truth felt bad for how he had been ignoring his daughter and Deianira, even if his marriage to her is more of duty. “I’m sorry to hear about that.” He said, taking her hand and giving it a firm squeeze. "And for not treating you the way I should be now that you are my wife."

"I'll make it up to you." He said, their walk nearing the end of the corridor and to a balcony. "Should we head back?"

Like all things, there was a reason why people preferred to hide their weaknesses. Because they fear the wolves lurking in the dark, waiting for the tiniest hint of vulnerability before striking.

A quiet moment passed between the King and the Queen as they gazed at each other. Deianira eventually cracked a smile, a small and apprehensive one before she tugged on her husband’s hand and led him to the open balcony.

The stars twinkled above them with mirth and the cold night wind softly blew against them. “I think you can make it up to me right now.” Deianira began before looking at the evening sky.

Arthur cocked his head to the side, confusion painted in his face. He felt a slight apprehensiveness, because he doesn't know what to make of the sudden turn of situation. "How exactly can I do that in this peaceful night?" He said with a low chuckle.

However, the reply he received was definitely unexpected. He watched as Deianira climbed up on the railing with his heart pounding. His mind suddenly went blank then into a state of panic as he started to sweat from head to toe. "Deianira, whatever you are thinking… plea-"

Then she jumped.

"NO!" Arthur ran to the end of the balcony, hand gripping the cold stone railing. "DEIANIRA!" He shouted when he couldn't find his wife anywhere below.

It seemed as though the night was full of surprises for the King of Orh when a great beast soared from below, circling the skies once with a cry before ultimately landing beside him, offering him a grand display of its majestic wings. It was the Queen’s Rigozi and mounted on top of it was the woman herself, her raven locks dancing with the wind as she outstretched a hand towards him.

“The night is still young, my King. Would you please indulge me with a ride?”

It took him a moment to process what was happening, and when it did finally made sense to him, Athur let out a laugh. He never expected to find himself feeling this way again in such a time. The young woman was truly surprising him in a lot of ways, they were good surprises. He took her hand, with a smile that reached his eyes. Finally, he smiled. "Of course, but may I first say you look stunning under the moonlight."

The Queen’s lips slowly curled upwards into a smile as she tucked a stray lock behind her ear.

Maybe it was the wine he drank earlier, or maybe it was that he has been feeling quite light at the moment, happy even, that he was feeling quite not like himself. He wouldn't dish out such a comment so willy nilly. Nevertheless, he accepted. Gently placing himself behind the Shantorian, truth to be told he felt nervous. It's not everyday you ride an Egnarion.

“I suggest you hold onto me tight, my King.” Deianira told Arthur over her shoulder, her smile lingering.

It's nerve-wracking, sitting on a winged egnarion. It was clear that they were going flying, something he has never done before. He could feel the sweat of his hands against the fabric of his glove. "How can I not?" Despite him saying, he unsurely and loosely wrapped his hands around Deianira’s waist. “I hope this is alright.” He said pensively.

With the Queen's nod, the mighty beast lifted itself up with its wings before soaring into the night sky. Everything else began to feel colder above the skies but there was a growing warmth between the King and Queen. They were literally touching the clouds and the kingdom felt so little when they looked down. It was strange but it felt as though the heights were stripping them of their worries.

The moment the Rigozi flew, Arthur’s hold had become tighter than how he would like it to be. It was scary to be so high above but it was also freeing. Amazement was all Arthur could feel at the moment, how the stars were clearer, the cold breeze of the wind and yet the air felt thinner. “It’s beautiful up here.” He commented with astonishment in his eyes.

“I have more to show you.” Deianira responded, her smile now a confident smirk.

Arthur could feel the woman’s smile even when he was facing her back. Undeniably curious as to what more the Shantorian could show, but there was also excitement to it. “And what would th-”

But before the King could even finish his words, the Queen commanded her Rigozi to soar down, dropping faster than an eagle preying on a rabbit. They bolted through the thick clouds and headed straight to the open sea. The Egnarion only straightened its direction when they were a couple of meters away from crashing into the blue water. Ripples trailed behind them, the result of their quick pace before they eventually slowed into a much calmer one.

The tranquil moment offered more time for the duo to admire their surroundings. The crystalline water were shimmering from beneath them and it was reflecting a rare sight. The King and the Queen- together. But their water gazing was cut short when bubbles formed and a beaked Egnarion fish with a streamlined body leaped from it. It was beautiful with its pointed horn and grey skin that twinkled underneath the moonlight. The royalties couldn’t stop themselves from admiring its grand display, eyes glued and mouth slightly open. Unfortunately though, the Egnarion returned to the surface and crashed against the waves, sending large splashes of water towards the monarchs.

Deanira blinked, her face and front completely drenched, unpleasantly offering added weight and sensation.

There was silence, then there was laughter. It was full and somehow a childish kind of laughter. Arthur cannot remember the last time he had felt such way since he was a child. While he may be the King, he never had the luxury of exploring the lands of Orh, much less when he was younger.

"I'm afraid we'll have to go back now, unless you want to catch a cold?" He quipped, a new kind of light glinting his eyes. His smile reaching his ears, "Thank you for sharing this with me."

Deianira stared at him, “I think a smile fits you, my King.” She smiled.

If Only

The Kingdom of Orh’s capital was booming with festivity. Colorful banners and a variety of stalls dotted the square, giving the place a frolicsome aura that just seemed to be tremendously infectious. People from all walks of life assembled in the wing-ding, and it was almost as if the fence between the nobles and paupers completely vanished. At the center of the square was a lavish banquet. Tables that seemed to stretch hundreds of meters were arranged in rows, all of them holding rich buffets of freshly-served and delicious-looking food that left everybody’s mouth watering.

It was the crown princess’ twelfth birthday and the kingdom didn’t hold back to show their adoration to the child.

Soon enough, trumpets blared with vigor, announcing the arrival of the royal family. The royal carriage drawn by a handful of majestic and winged Egnarions came into view, earning cheers from both noble and common folks as they landed on the square. The first one to step out was the King and everyone were quick to bend their knees. Arthur held out his hand and a paler one took it from the vehicle. A few moments later and the Queen stepped out with the birthday girl herself following after.

“Their majesties; the King, the Queen, and the Princess!” The bellower introduced with a deep bow, everybody else following after his lead.

"Everyone, rise." The King started, sounding stern and serious. His eyes looked over the people then giving a wide grin. "Let me begin by saying thank you all for coming here today to celebrate, my daughter and the princess of this kingdom, Amore Diantha Yleora. It has been twelve years since we first celebrated her birth, I myself cannot believe how fast time has flown when it seemed only yesterday when her tiny fingers first wrapped around my finger. Nevertheless, I am sure that you are all famished. Eat! And enjoy this merry occasion.” With that the King kneeled down so that he and Diantha are face to face, “Happiest of birthday my little Diore.” On his palm was a beautiful silver bracelet with amethyst stones dangling on its chains.

“Thank you, Father. It is beautiful.” The princess knew where this came from, it was her mother’s, Queen Morgana’s bracelet. “I’ll treasure it.” After giving her father a tight hug, the people cheered at the sight. Truly a parent-child relationship parents aspire for.

Once the eruption of cheers dissipated, the people moved to participate in the feast. The whole activity was effervescent yet everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Even the royal family themselves joined in, sharing their table with the council who offered a toast for the princess.

From her seat, the Queen couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the King who was too engrossed conversing with Lord Valyr, the head of Shantor. She couldn’t quite hear what they were talking about but the mirthful laughter coming from their direction was suffice to give her an idea. Lord Valyr was licking boots, flattering and pleasing King Arthur, just as she did plenty of nights before. The only difference was that her father was doing so with only his words while she…

The thought forced Deianira to place her fork and knife back to her plate, feeling her appetite go down the drain. She pursed her lips, her silver eyes wandering around until she found green ones staring back at her. It was her ally and friend, Desmond, approaching from across the square. It has been a while since they last talked and there were so many things she wanted to tell him. It was strange. Here she was, finally in the position where she was meant to be, yet she couldn’t help but wish for the olden days when it was just the two of them jumping from one adventure to another. Now, it was only him getting sent to missions while she rot inside the castle, tasked to forever keep an eye on a King and his rowdy child that was too keen on brushing shoulders with death.

“Mom...”

There were so many things she wanted to tell him. So many things…

“Moooooooom!”

A sudden force on the Queen’s lap yanked her from her daze. When she looked down, she found the princess’ round eyes boring into hers, her cheeks puffed into a pout. “You’re daydreaming again!” Deianira could only blink back at the truthful accusation. The princess then broke into a grin, “Look! Uncle Des is finally back from his trip!” She pointed at the nearing man before vacating her seat to run towards him. “Did you bring me any gift? Did you bring me any gift?” The bubbly celebrant chanted as she hugged him from below and pulled him to take a seat at their table.

There were many things Desmond loved about being sent on missions. It meant that he would be able to freely explore the kingdom - and their neighboring kingdom of Thyrea - and he would be able to connect with more people. When the weight of acting like you really care doesn't weigh on your shoulders, it was easier to talk. Easier to make other people talk too.

But one of the downsides was he was always away. With the king's trust, he was sent away to missions that took months to complete and barred any communication with Deianira. It took too much essence to even connect using their communicator so that had been reserved to emergencies only. Gone were the times where it was her and him going out of the castle. Gone were the times where it was only her and him and maybe he wanted it back.

But that was selfish of him.

Arthur had made it clear that he should be back for Diantha's birthday. After all, the two of them had gotten even closer - the late queen's orders still echoing in the recesses of his mind. So he made sure to leave Thyrea ahead of time but due to certain circumstances, he had only arrived earlier that day.

Desmond would not have admitted that he was relieved to be back for a different reason than the party. As soon as he came upon the festivities, his eyes were already roaming - in search of the first person he would always seek out. And he found her and for the first time, he could smile so wide that it hurt. He quickly made his approach, eager to tell her about what he found in Thyrea. Eager to finally be able to talk to her. For the first time in months-

He blinked when he was stopped. Oh. Right. "Diore! Happy birthday, dear princess!" He cheered as he picked the giggling princess up, carrying her with one arm and reaching out to fix her crown and began walking to the royal family's table. "Of course I do! I'll give it to you later." He lowered his voice, a mischievous smile now on his face. "I don't think they would like something Thyrean made." He gave her a wink before putting her down beside the table.

He flourished a bow at Deianira. "My queen." Desmond took a peek at Arthur who was engrossed in conversation with Deianira's father. For a moment, Desmond was worried his family was around - they surely were, just scattered. He straightened his posture. "It's good to see you again." And maybe it wasn't the most unique thing he could have said. He certainly could have done better. But he knew he conveyed enough. He stood back for a moment, hoping she would stand up for her greeting. What he was planning might earn him a few glares, a few warnings or a stab straight through his sternum but so be it.

And of course, Desmond was right. The Queen gracefully got on her feet out of formality, gesturing for the councilman to raise his head with a wave of her hand. Formality was what was expected between the two of them and they were both raised to adhere to such expectations. Especially now that they were in the presence of the most important people in the Kingdom. “I share the sentiment, Lord Jaestrix.”

Desmond made another cursory sweep of who was paying attention - not a lot, his presence was usually louder after all and he wouldn't be surprised if they didn't notice him - and deemed that those who were looking would either shut their mouths or just shrug off the close interaction between the two nobles. "Formalities aside…" Desmond moved forward and wrapped his arms around her in a friendly hug, squeezed for only a bit and held the embrace just long enough to say what he needed to say. "I missed you." He whispered.

The heartfelt motion surprised Deianira but she felt her arms wrapping themselves back around him. It was almost an automatic response and she could never truly get used to such a notion. She wanted to tell him he felt the same way but the situation wasn’t in their favor.

He backed away and noticed that the King had turned his attention to them, momentarily forgetting Lord Valyr who followed his gaze. Desmond gave the king a wink and a grin. Arthur seemed stunned for a moment before recovering and continuing his talk with the previous Shantor head. Satisfied that the king didn't act upon it, Desmond turned his attention back to his friend. "So, how have you been? What's the latest news? I feel like it's been an eternity since we've spoken!"

Eternity, while obviously an exaggerated word, was somehow fitting. Deianira was reminded of the many things she wanted to tell him but she wondered if doing so would be the best. “Things have been going well in your absence.” She said after glancing around to make sure that the coast was clear. “Everything’s going according to the plan.” She whispered, thinking that the councilman was dutifully checking on her progress. The woman then took a deep breath before stealing another glance at her husband. “The King and I,” she placed a hand over her other arm, “We’re… getting along.”

Desmond let out a hum. "As much as I appreciate a short debriefing, I meant more of yourself. We can talk about that… later." He responded, but there was a hint of worry in his voice as he reached out and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. He really wanted to know immediately but this was not the time for him to pull her away to who knows where to have a private conversation with. Unfortunately, their private escapades could breed rumors and that was the last thing they needed to pop up.

"How's the castle life?" He questioned though already knowing the answer. Boring, most likely. He can't imagine a life that is constrained to a singular area for the rest of your life except in special circumstances.

“Boring.” Deianira answered through their shared link. The ring he gave her was still in her finger although it has been moved to the other hand in favor of her matrimony band with the King. “It’s peaceful,” she covered an answer before heading back to her seat, expecting the man to follow take the open one beside her where Diantha used to sit. The child was already off bouncing about, infecting her guests with her radiant personality. “Even though Diantha can be quite a handful sometimes- most of the time. You know, it’s odd how she knows all these secret passages around the castle. I told Arthur that the castle needs better fortification and security.” It sounded like she was getting used to talking about domestic subjects. “But enough about the castle life, we can talk about it in another time. I’m sure you have more intriguing stories for me.” If she could at least live vicariously through his stories, then that would be grand.

Desmond let out a snicker when Deianira had responded telepathically. Of course it was. He took a seat beside her and leaned back. “Diore always was a hyperactive one.” He mused as he turned to watch the child mingle with the guests, all of whom were swept up in her pace. Either because of respect or because of Diantha’s energy. “After all, our first meeting with her was…” He gestured idly with his hand. Diantha bursting into a council meeting to talk with her father with little regards to formalities and etiquette. “I’m sure you can handle her just fine.”

He chuckled as Deianira expressed confusion on Diantha’s knowledge of the castle’s interior. As Cytir head, he was given a detailed map of the castle with all of its passageways - even those that were not readily visible. Whenever he and Diantha played or escaped the castle to head to the town, Desmond made sure to teach her all about them. But it was also a precautionary measure if things go sour. “She’s a little explorer. I doubt you can hide many things from her even if you renovate the castle.”

“Perhaps,” Deianira granted with a roll of her shoulders, a cue that she’d rather dwell on the next subject of discussion.

“My travels? I don’t want to bore you with details of the Orhian nobility and such that I had the… pleasure of speaking to so I’ll jump straight to Thyrea.” It wasn’t a secret that some nobles were a bit too stuck up to be handled easily. Nevertheless, a job was a job. “Thyrea’s advancing rather well in terms of… whatever they’re doing. Orhian magic and Sierran technology, you wouldn’t imagine what it can do together.” He said, lowering his voice so only the two of them were talking. He knew fully well how others felt about Sierra and Thyrea. It would be unwise to speak of it out loud in fondness. “I’ve dispatched agents to stay there to study more. See what they can uncover and whatnot.”

He let out a huff and crossed his arms. “I doubt I can take anything back here and have the approval of our… elders.” He shook his head, no use dwelling on it. Unless he could somehow convince Arthur and a few of his fellow councilmen and women, he should just keep them in mind and move on. “Thyrea is beautiful this time of the year. Then again, it always is. A breath of fresh air, you could say.”

While the mere mention of Sierra would usually paint a frown on Deianira’s face, she stopped herself from doing so for the sake of her friend. He looked so thrilled with his discoveries and she didn’t want to rain on his parade. Still, she was taught about all the atrocities the Kingdom of Sierra has done and will eventually do if they were left to their own device. But a part of her can admit that Desmond spoke the truth. The amalgam of magic and technology held so much potential, and the Queen was also taught how to be wise with resources.

“My father would detest that.” She added to Desmond’s remark about their elders’ inevitable disagreement with his ideas. The woman knew that the councilman would be aware about the Shantor’s resentment towards the rivaling kingdom. Nevertheless, Deianira didn’t want to dwell on the particular matter either. “I wish I could come with you.” It was an admission telepathically sent out of caution yet it still held an undeniable genuineness. Everytime Desmond talked about his travels, she simply couldn’t stop from imagining herself experiencing and seeing the same things he did. He sounded so free and she was somewhat envious.

"I know." He could fully understand why Lord Valyr would much sooner cut his own arm off than to accept anything Sierran made but that wasn't going to stop himself from doing anything. What Lord Valyr doesn't know wouldn't kill him for now - Desmond had done what was asked of him and he'd be willing to do it all over again if it was for Deianira.

He gave her a sympathetic look. "I'd take you away from the castle if I could." He readily admitted, idly twisting the rings on his fingers as they talked. "There's so much I want you to see. Travel hasn't been fun without you around." And it was a point he made sure to share every time. Sure, Deianira was goal oriented and would much rather finish what they started fast, Desmond would rather be able to bring someone he truly trusts with him that wasn't his supposed family. "If only you can get just one week off, that would be enough."

Desmond’s words brought an indescribable warmth in Deianira’s chest. It was almost surreal but his confession made her happy and she showed it with a small smile. There were still so many things she wanted to tell him. “Des, I-”

“My Queen!” An ever familiar voice lovingly called from behind, cutting whatever the woman wanted to say. In that brief moment, what little happiness in her eyes was replaced with dismay before it ultimately returned to its usual blankness. “If only,” she mouthed with a sigh before getting up and walking towards her waiting husband.

The royal couple stood at the head of the table with little Diantha, their golden crowns all dazzling underneath the morning sun. The King’s right hand held the child’s while his other one snaked to the Queen’s waist. They looked like the perfect picture of a family and it seemed as though the crowd agreed as they all cheered and raised their cups merrily. It was then when Arthur pulled Deianira closer, professing his love with a kiss that lasted for no more than five seconds but would perpetually be carved in the minds of a few.
[/justify]

A Mother's Woe

Desmond deserved a break after his latest report that ended up with the eradication of a small time rebellion group that had been generating a worrying amount of interest. Arthur had, of course, dispatched Cytirs and Shantors onto the fray to quell the flames of civil war. Lord Valyr wasn't too different from working with Deianira - but it was colder and harder to move around him. He expected purely results which restricted his already limited freedom.

He stepped off of the carriage and into the castle. He needed rest. Multiple nights were spent awake, waiting with his agent for more information. As much as he hated foregoing sleep - a man needed it after all, if they wish to keep their pristine complexion - there wasn't much choice with Lord Valyr's presence looming behind him.

But Desmond's feet took him elsewhere. Instead of heading straight to his room, he began searching for Deianira. He at least wanted to see her before he inevitably passes out. "Dei? Where are you?" He called out. Desmond wasn't bold enough to knock on royal chambers. Even with his closeness to the ruling monarchs, they had certain boundaries even he can't break without consequence.

Meanwhile, Deianira was already in her night robe when the message reached her. She looked away from the evening sky and drew back from the windowsill, her eyes landing on the ring in her left hand. Hesitation filled her as she slowly reached a hand for it. The queen has been somewhat solitary lately and she has been spending most of her days in the royal chambers. Of course, the queen’s lack of presence caused words to spread among the castle folks. There were some who whispered that she was grievously ill while others claimed that she probably ran off with a particular councilman. However, the most popular rumor was a rather joyous one.

“In our chambers,” she finally replied, “Arthur’s not here.”

Desmond hummed. "Be right with you then." With that, he quickly began making his way down the long halls of the castle - giving the servants he passed by with a small nod of his head and a smile. It was certainly good to be back. Perhaps he can even convince a couple of people that resided in the castle for an hour or two of their time so he can let loose again. Hopefully none of them changed their statuses over the few months that he was gone.

Before he knew it, he was in front of the royal chamber's door. "It's me." He called out as he knocked on the door. Without waiting for a response, the man took one last look around the hallways out of instinct before heading inside with a big grin on his face.

"Dei! So good to see you again!" He wasted no time in greeting as he closed the door.

There, he found the woman sitting on the edge of the purple bed, staring at him while one of her hands rested on her abdomen. “I’m pregnant.” She announced with her usual blankness, making it sound like she was spouting just another typical news.

Desmond blinked. "I'm sorry did I hear that right? I must be a tad bit more tired than I expected." He said absentmindedly as he walked closer. "You're… pregnant?" He repeated the phrase, uncertainty clear in his voice. He must have misheard it. Look at her! She was looking at him like she had just told him she took a walk down the garden earlier that morning! Surely a person would show at least a bit of enthusiasm or anxiousness, right?

Deianira merely looked at him in the same fashion before repeating her words, “I am pregnant.” As though to prove herself, she pulled her robe back to reveal the tiniest hint of a baby bump.

Desmond nodded slowly. So he wasn't mistaken. He opened his mouth to respond, only to close it again. He wasn't sure what he should feel - her lack of a reaction threw his mind into a loop. Is it good or is it bad? They were eager for an heir, right? That isn't Diantha? But at the same time, did Deianira want it? There were many questions in his head so he simply sat down beside her and stayed silent for a couple of seconds.

"Congratulations, I suppose?" He started off as he stared at her belly. As she said, there was the tiniest bump, but it was there and it'll only grow bigger if there aren't any complications. "I assume Arthur knows?" He asked for confirmation before letting out a nervous chuckle as she nodded. "Wow… this… it's certainly quite a surprise." It certainly wasn't what he expected, per se. Lord Valyr hadn't said anything about it. Perhaps he didn't know yet? Who knows, the man was too secretive for his own good.

Truth to be told, Deianira didn’t really know what else to say. She has no experience regarding the matter and what little knowledge she knew about mothers were either from her own observations or Diantha. Needless to say, she was more than alarmed when the doctor broke the news to her a week ago. While it was true that bearing Arthur a heir was part of her father’s plan, it didn’t make the idea any less frightening. Deianira didn’t know what to do, much less what to feel about the matter. The thought of having a child- one from her own body- made her feel a strange amalgam of fear and… joy.

Deianira looked at Desmond, sensing the uncertainty coming from him. It made her wonder if she should tell him what was troubling her since he was a smart man and he always knew what to do. “Des, I… don’t know,” she began, helplessly clawing for the right words to express herself properly, “I don’t think… I just- I just don’t know.” In the end, she couldn’t even formulate anything more coherent. She could only hope that Desmond would be able to grasp and understand even the tiniest bit of her woe.

It slowly dawned upon the man that the uncertainty he felt was mutual. This made it easier to arrange his thoughts. He reached out to hold her hand. Her family situation was something he had slowly figured out from whatever Deianira had told him and what he had heard from his own side of the family. She was not raised as a child, but rather she was raised for one specific purpose and that purpose only. An ordinary family was the last thing she knew.

It wasn't something he knew either, but he knew more.

"Let's calmly talk about this, slowly work our way through." He started, rubbing soothing circles onto her hand with his thumb. "I understand that this is a new thing for you. Admittedly, it's quite a scary thought huh? Pregnancy, motherhood… family." Desmond wasn't quite sure where he was heading with his statement but he was determined to be of help to his friend. This wasn't about the mission anymore. Then again, he barely remembered the time when his actions were determined by their mission instead of Deianira. "Are you worried about it? Your pregnancy? Your child?"

Deianira felt herself calming down after receiving Desmond’s warm gestures. She paused to think about his question, examining herself to come up with a solid answer. “Yes,” she weakly admitted, “I’m… scared.” It wasn’t even because she was worried that something might happen during her pregnancy. She knew that while Arthur was perhaps one of the most naive men on the planet, he wouldn’t let anything happen to her or their children. She would be safe inside the castle and she would have plenty of maidservants to escort her through it all. No, what she feared the most was something different. “I can’t help but wonder… what kind of future awaits this child?” She used her unoccupied hand and placed it on top of her swelling belly. The poor child would probably be nothing but another tool for her father and she felt guilty that she would be the one to deliver it into the world. “My father, the plan, me…This child deserves better.”

"And you can give her a future that is better." He claimed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You could give her a childhood she could fondly look back to. A loving family. Everything you realized you lacked as you grew older." A harsh reality for the both of them that they've accepted - that they may be skilled in their current craft but they lacked so many things. In Desmond's case, he had managed to circumvent a couple of problems through rebellion but not the same could be said for his friend.

"She doesn't have to bear the weight of your father's expectations either." Desmond continued. "You don't need to follow whatever he says. It may be difficult but you hold power, Dei. You have the power to resist." He looked away from her, towards the door as if daring for someone to interrupt - daring for anyone listening in to continue. "The plan is already complete, no? We've moved past the ones that would require your hands to be dirtied. Your child's mission is to only live." Desmond was no fool. He knew that there was more to whatever they were planning, that Deianira was right and Lord Valyr's plans extended all the way to her grandchildren. But it doesn't have to be.

Desmond’s words felt so foreign to her. He was saying that she has a choice- always had, and nobody has ever told her that outright except for him. It was the second time he said it yet it still felt the same. Deianira shifted her gaze from him to her unborn child, caressing it once as she pondered on his words. She knew for a fact that the plan was far from over. Her father made it more than apparent that he would not stop until Sierra had crumbled and paid for what they have done. He claimed that she no longer has to dirty her hands, but she knew he was lying and he knew it as well. But then his other words were ringing at the back of her mind, the ones convincing her that she didn’t have to settle with being her father’s tool forever. She wanted to agree, nod her head and tell him he was right, but she couldn’t. It was a task beyond difficult for someone who has been raised to be nothing but obedient to one person alone.

It wasn’t the first time the thought of defying Lord Valyr has crossed her mind either. In fact, it was something she often found herself daydreaming about when she was a child. But in the end, it was like asking herself to stop breathing. And she can’t do it. She would always wind up gasping for air, obeying his every whim.

But then, was this the same fate that she wanted for her child?

It was then when tears began to run down her cheeks. The sensation felt so unfamiliar that she didn’t know she was crying until she saw Desmond’s reaction. “I-I don’t want my child to be like me.” She confessed in between sobs, her armor of control finally cracking.

It was sudden, unexpected, and would have elicited more of a reaction from Desmond had it been any other normal day. Tears began to well up and fall from his friend’s eyes - his normally stoic and serious friend who would no sooner turn away from a child in need without a heavy heart if that was what she was required to do.

He reached up and cupped her face with his hand and he wiped away her tears. “And we can make sure that they don’t.” With that, he urged for her to come closer as he wrapped her in his embrace. There was no use in lying that there was nothing wrong with Deianira - but her confessing what she wanted to happen was certainly a step towards the right direction. “We can make sure that they turn out better. It’s what the child deserves.” He paused for a moment. “It’s what you deserve too.”

It was quite a sight to behold- the regal Queen of Orh reduced into a sobbing mess in the arms of her only ally. Deianira returned the heartfelt gesture by wrapping her arms around him and burying her face at the crook of his neck as she continued to weep. “I am irredeemable,” came her sorrowful whispers, “But if I can bring at least one good thing to this world… that would be enough.”

Desmond patted her back as she continued sobbing. She had to let it out after all - just like he did all those years ago. It was nice to be able to pay back the kindness that she had shown that day. He let out a hum of agreement in her statement, once more finding himself unable to refute what she had claimed herself to be. They both knew and accepted the truth. “I’m sure you can give them the world and more too.”

It was as if something clicked within the Queen as she withdrew from his arms and stopped crying. Whatever emotion in her face was slowly replaced with resolution as though she has made up her mind. She composed herself and stood upright, and it was as if she had never shown her vulnerability a few moments ago. Deianira faced Desmond, “Thank you, Des,” a small smile graced her lips, “For everything.”

Adora

The most beautiful sound that Deianira has ever heard was her child’s first cry.

It was a winter evening when it happened. The pain was excruciating and it felt like her whole body had just been torn into two. She was covered in sweat and she could smell the stench of her own blood. Her chest heaved with every breath she took and she could hear nothing but her own gasps for air and the movements of the healers as they attended to the newborn royalty.

Beside her was Arthur, gripping her hand and whispering soothing words into her ear. While the King was an Aille, quite possibly one of the best healers in the world, the royal couple found no confidence in letting him deliver their child. They both know he’d be too anxious to be able to think clearly and his current disheveled form did nothing but confirm the fact. The man bent down to plant a kiss on his wife’s lips but it did nothing to numb the pain her labor has brought. The woman has been through a lot of pain of varying degrees before but this was one she found to be unbearable.

But it was then when she heard it- her baby’s first cry. It was but a long and high-pitched noise, one that she would normally find to be nothing but agonizing, yet all feelings left her at its mere sound. The pain, the exhaustion, and everything else all disappeared in the blink of an eye. In their stead, joy and adoration domineered, filling every fiber of her being as soon as she saw the midwife carrying her child.

“She’s a princess,” the older woman softly announced as she gently placed the infant onto her mother’s chest.

Deianira couldn’t stop herself from tearing up when she her emerald orbs found her daughter’s similar ones. She was so small and vulnerable, and she felt so perfect in her hands as she carefully embraced her for the first time. Deianira could feel their hearts beating in unison and it was at that moment when she promised herself that she would do anything to keep her daughter safe and happy. Hearing her, seeing her, touching her, and just the child in general- all the pain she went through paled in comparison to such reward.

It seemed as though Arthur shared her sentiments as he joined in and wrapped his arm around them, tears streaming down his face too. “She’s so beautiful,” he murmured as he reached out to cup the child’s face in the most gentle of manners, like he was handling the most fragile thing in the entire Harmonia.

“Adora,” Deianira whispered as she kept her eyes on the new princess.

The King softly nodded his head, “Adora, our daughter.”

After a loving look to his wife and new child, Arthur ordered the healers to open the door and let his eldest daughter in along with a particular councilman. While it was definitely an intimate moment between the royal family, Deianira still wanted to share it with Desmond.

Desmond was rather anxious as he and Diantha waited outside the delivery room. He had stayed at the castle for an entire month due to Deianira's condition and thankfully, no one had the idea of sending him out on a mission. He aided however he can and he knew that the healers were very skilled, and even if things went a little south, Arthur was the most skilled healer in the kingdom and surely Deianira would be completely fine.

Then perhaps his anxiousness was born out of excitement - just like what Diantha was feeling as she stood beside him and told her all about what she was planning to do with her sibling. It was certainly very cute, just how much Diantha was looking forward to the child. Desmond carried the conversation to distract himself from what he was feeling. He shouldn't feel any dread at all, and yet the idea of losing Deianira was-

The doors opened and Diantha immediately ran in.

Desmond took in a calming breath. Everything was fine. He gave the doctors a nod. "Thank you." He muttered as he entered the room. He looked upon the family as Arthur and Diantha cooed over the newborn. What a picturesque family - and yet only a few know how tainted it is.

"Congratulations!" He called out with a grin but he dared not go further beyond a few steps from the door. "I'm glad the both of you are fine." He gave a teasing smirk at Arthur who looked just as tired as Deianira did.

The Queen’s eyes landed on the smirking man, finding comfort in his presence, while the King simply returned the jest with an exhausted chuckle. “Thank you, thank you,” the older male heartily replied, “Do excuse my unseemly state right now, I couldn’t stop myself from worrying even though my lovely wife has been anything but weak throughout the whole ordeal. I suppose it’s just how it is when you’re the father.” He laughed once more while his eldest child softly poked her sister’s cheek.

"I can only imagine m'lord." Desmond responded with a nod. Little did Arthur know that he's been agonizing over this particular event for the past month. Though, he supposed that being the husband would make the feeling much worse.

Deianira watched the interaction between the children, silently admiring their innocence. She then returned her attention to her friend. “Des,” she called out, too worn-out to even bother with formalities or anything else at all. The King seemed to have noticed what she wanted so he gestured for the councilman to come closer, “Come and meet Adora.”

Desmond moved forward as he was ordered, taking the empty space on the other side of the bed and gazed upon the newborn. "Only with you two can you get such a precious and cute baby." Desmond mused with a light chuckle as he continued to look. "I know the perfect things to give Adora~" He continued with a wide grin, already making plans on travelling once more to obtain said objects. He reached out to touch the baby and couldn't help the genuine smile on his face. He'd do anything to protect this child. The newest princess of Orh.

The baby, as though it sensed his thoughts, returned the affection by wrapping her little fingers around one of his own.

Seeing the most important people in her life interacting in such a heartwarming manner felt good. Deianira noted before she closed her eyes, her exhaustion finally getting the best of her and lulling her to sleep.

A 30K collaboration between . D O V E , AI10100 & Colorless Spectrum ​

 

[Ambiloquous]

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[div class=bo]
[div class=img][/div]
[div class=he]Astrophel Solis Steorra[/div]
[div class=bod]

Location: The Karavan Festival​

The festival was one of the few days Sol didn’t have to worry about paperwork, politics and all the other stresses that came with being a councillor. He was grateful for it, but also felt it was a pity that it only happened once every fifteen years. Maybe he could bring up shortening the interval of time between each festival at one of the meetings. Then again, the amount of time and money it took to set it up was—he shook his head to clear his thoughts. Not today. Today was a day of play. He could think about all the technicalities tomorrow.

Looking up at the sky free of clouds, it reflected his rare untroubled mood. Well, mostly untroubled. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and let himself feel the sun on his face. It had been so long since he could pause and enjoy the weather, without the rush of everyday minutiae.

Standing alone in the middle of the crowd that bustled and pushed him in all directions, he was simply content to go with the flow of the people. He had no particular things he wanted to see, unlike Oria who had dashed away in a direction with stars in her eyes, and no particular places to be, like the location his eldest sister had disappeared to. He was happy to follow the group, wherever it may lead.

Until he happened to get an elbow jabbed in his face. That woke him up from his daze, all right. Flinching from the pain, he decided that maybe being shoved around by the masses wasn’t such a great idea and maybe romantic thoughts sounded nice in theory but didn’t work quite as well in practice.

Dodging a few more flailing limbs, baskets and bobbles, he reached a relatively calmer part of the street for a breath. His physical health wasn’t bad, but it was midday with the sun beating down and there were just so many people. The vendor nearby happened to be selling fruit juice, so he bought a few cups of that to down, stepping to some shade. Before he could get there though, he bumped into a blonde and splashed two cups of juice on them and one on himself.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Sol glanced up and down the state of their clothing, winced and apologized again. “I’m really sorry about your clothing. I’ll pay for the damages.”

Turning to the juice vendor, he asked for some napkins or something to clean juice off since he himself had nothing of the kind, but the vendor shook his head. Frowning, he looked at the nearby stalls, eyes lighting on one selling shawls and loose summer wear. “Actually, would you like a new outfit entirely?”

Interacted With: Trektek | Mentioned: Songstress AI10100​

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[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Alno
interaction: Songstress​

Sitting atop the roof had gotten boring rather fast alno was already on the look out for something else to do luckily the building gave a perfectly good vantage point for spotting any interesting or unusual and to be fair there was a lot to catch the young hybrids attention. The thing that did stand out like a sore thumb to alno at least was a girl sitting beside a stall and from the looks of it, the girl seemed kinda lost, not that alno really could tell from this distance but you didn’t just sit next to a stand like that unless you were lost or wait for someone? That was an option. But with so much stuff to do why would you Just sit around? Alno though that it really couldn’t hurt to check on the person a perfect chance to meet a new person. With that decided on alno jumped off the roof gliding over the crowds of people, catching the attention of young children who eagerly attempted to get their parents to look up and a few adults taking it more as a passing curiosity it didn’t bother alno at all he loved the attention. Landing just behind the girl wings folding back he walked into there view with a smile “hey you ok there? You look like you managed to get lost or something“

 

[. D O V E]

[class name=title] font-size:30px; color:#ffae00; [/class] [class name=stitle] font-size:12px; line-height:12px; [/class]

[div class=title]Queen Deianira of Orh[/div]
[div class=stitle]A queen to many, a mother to two; a fateful reunion unfolds!
A collaboration with Colorless Spectrum [/div]​

The Kingdom of Thyrea wasn’t much of a difference from Orh. The two domains shared a lot of things- peace, harmony, and their love for festivities among other things. Deainira found herself looking around, absorbing the picturesque cityscape around her that was the Thyrean capital. The walled kingdom surely didn’t shy away from pouring resources for the Karavan festival as each corner of the place could leave anybody’s jaw hanging. There were plenty of banners, booths, and folks giving the festivity a color of merriment. It was truly wondrous how such things could bring people from different walks of life together, joining even mages and hybrids like sewn fabrics.

Even so, Deianira couldn’t find it in herself to care. She had attended the Karavan festival before when she was thirteen and quite frankly, she found it to be rather tedious.

Then again, the Queen of Orh has never been fond of any social occasions. This fact hasn’t changed despite her eight years of reign, and she has no doubt that it would stay that way for the rest of her life. Festivals, crowds, and mingling- Deianira found no joy in such things. If she could choose, she’d rather spend her day in solitude while reading a book or two inside her chamber. Yet, here she was, in the middle of the jamboree, being dragged around by two rowdy girls.

"Mom!" Adora called out with her sweet voice, out of arm's reach from her mother, waving while her other hand was held by her blue-eyed elder sister. The two princess requested to see the sights unbeknownst to them that the festival has to offer. While this wasn’t Diantha’s first time attending the festival, she was barely able to remember anything at a mere four years of age. "Hurry up!" The older princess was merely standing beside her, eyes smiling at the mother she has known and loved for years since Morgana’s death.

It was clear enough that they were in the Marketplace, stalls were littered all over the area and there were people packed in almost each and every one of them. The thing that strikes both of their attention was the sweet waft of smell that filled their noses. Adora is a sucker for sweets and Diantha just always seems to be hungry at the slightest sight or smell of food. “Mooom, can we get some food?” The younger princess pleaded, clutching their mother’s dress in a dramatic way while the older only shot an amused look at her sister.

Deianira could only look down and stare at her youngest daughter, her features softening at the sight of her round emeralds. She couldn’t believe that Adora was already eight. It felt like it was only yesterday when she brought her to the world, and she could still remember how small and perfect she felt in her hands. “Of course,” she bent down to pick the child up, “Ow, you’re getting heavier.” The queen commented as she held Adora close.

”Of course she is.” Diantha teased with a smirk, pinching the little one’s cheek. “She’s been drinking milk like there's no tomorrow!” Half true, Adora has often claimed about wanting to grow up fast so that she can beat Diantha in a race or at tag. “But still, I don’t think it would be good for your back if you keep carrying her, mother.” Even Diantha has been feeling the increasing weight of her growing sister.

“Hey! I’m not heavy!” Adora pouted from her position.

Fondness graced the Queen’s eyes as she watched the two girls playfully banter with each other. To see them laughing happily like this- what festival could give her the same joy? She would do anything to keep them happy. “It’s alright. When she’s older, I may not be able to carry her anymore.” She responded before ushering Diantha to follow them towards the nearby food stall.

The vendor, who was busy watching over the pastries, was more than surprised when he looked up at whatever has cast a large shadow over him only to see the Orhian royalties with a handful of guards behind them. He immediately dropped into a bow, “Y-your majesties, how may I be of service?”

“Do raise your head,” the Queen said while Adora giggled in her arms; beside them, Diantha merely smiles in return, she still isn’t comfortable with it despite being royalty all her life but it is something she had to accept whether she likes to or not. “My children would like to buy something.”

The vendor did as he was told and widely gestured to his goods, “Why of course! For the Queen and Princesses of Orh to purchase something from me- it’s truly an honor.” He flashed the family a wide grin.

Adora was quick to choose the cutest looking bread on the shelf, it was shaped as a Cervitris with crystalized sugar on it’s back that is definite to provide a sweet taste and a nice sticky crunch to the bite. Diantha on the other hand settled for a sweet bread with a decorated cookie crust. She was already ordering a pack of it and the ones Adora pointed out. “How about you, Mom? Want one?”

She looked back at her mother only to find Adora begging to be bought something from the opposite kingdom- Sierra. “Can we get a story book from Sierra? Or maybe a toy! Please, please, please!” Diantha shakes her head at the thought of another toy to add to her sister’s numerous dolls and plushies. Truth to be told, she was also interested with the wares of the people incapable of bending the essences in the land of Harmonia to their will as Eilows do. How it works, why it works, what is its purpose- those were the questions she would think about when there were talks of the said kingdom. “Perhaps later? How about we explore Thyrea before father and the other leaders start the main event?”

Meanwhile, Deianira kept her eyes on the foreign items Adora has been pleading for. It was then when she was reminded of what they truly came here for. She walked closer to Diantha with the child still in her arms. “Listen well, children,” her voice was barely a whisper, “I compel you to steer clear of anything and anyone with relation to Sierra. You must be wary of them- they cannot be trusted.” Those were words that have been long incorporated to her from the moment of her birth. It was something she wanted to integrate to the two girls to avoid certain complications. She didn’t want them to be caught in the crossfire between the Shantors and Sierra. “Do you understand?”

The teanager cocked her head to the side, confused as to why they shouldn't trust Novushkuns. "Why?" Adora's voice was loud, causing a few people’s attention to be drawn by her. Diantha wanted to ask the same question, why say now when peace between the three kingdoms has been good so far throughout the past decades; but there was a feeling in her gut that she shouldn’t ask, at least not here and not now. She placed a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder, “I’m sure mother has her reasons. Why don’t we go to the park? I heard that there are booths for playing and entertainers to see.”

It was one of those many moments when Deianira was most thankful for Diantha’s presence. Throughout the years, she noticed that the younger lady could somehow tell when her step-mother wanted to speak- and this particular moment wasn’t one of those. “I do have my reasons,” she agreed, “And I’ll tell you two about it once you’re older. But let’s heed Diantha’s suggestion for now. Your uncle Desmond has told me that Thyreans can be very...fun.”

Adora’s eyes sparkled with newfound curiosity, especially at the thought of being able to play and watch. “Yes, I wanna go!” It was pretty easy to change a child’s mind so long as you know what interests them. “Shall we, mother?” Diantha asked after receiving the bag of pastry from the vendor who sent them off with a deep bow.

The Queen gave the crown princess a single nod before walking beside her to the mentioned park. Upon arriving, the three women couldn’t stop themselves from craning their necks upward to admire the marble statue that towered over the square. It was a gigantic effigy of a woman that didn’t fail to wash Deianira with nostalgia. She could still recall when Lord Valyr brought her to the same spot she and her children were currently standing on. She remembered how she threw questions after questions at him and how he answered each of them. It was the closest time Lord Valyr acted like an actual father to her.

“Who’s the big lady?” Adora piped up from her arms and it took Deianira by surprise. It was the same thing she asked her father. Even so, the queen only shot the child her usual blank look before returning her gaze at the crystalline figure. “Wilhelmina,” she answered, “She’s the founding mother of Thyrea. Many claim she’s the reason why there is peace in Harmonia.” Deianira knew that the legendary woman was a Sierran- a citizen of the very kingdom she was born to hate. Her father told her how much of a shame it was that the Novushkuns degraded from such revered ancestry. She, however, stopped herself from dropping such comments to her children.

Diantha gave a thoughtful hum as she looked at the magnificent statue, even after such a long time it still stood with a certain grace to it. She wondered if the figure captured how the woman looked back then, nevertheless it was stunning. The shout of a man grabbed her attention. There was a storyteller giving astounding visuals with small clay puppets that he controlled. She was about to suggest watching it when Adora spotted a familiar white-head and jumped out of their mother’s arms. “Look! It’s the council man with the snow hair! I wanna go say hi!”

“Adora, wait!” Diantha shouted, hand outreached.

However, a flash of raven and red brisked past Diantha as their mother automatically chased after the running Adora. It was quite the scene. It wasn’t everyday people could get to see a queen weaving through obstacles after obstacles to chase a small princess while another princess followed suit. Nonetheless, the scene caused quite the commotion as the guards that were following them did their best to keep up, essentially creating a ridiculous chain of cat-and-mouse.

Eventually, Adora found the apologetic Astrophel and ran towards him. “Mister Steorra! Hello!” She enthusiastically shouted as she waved her hand with a big grin on her face. She was fast on her feet; but even so, that didn’t stop her from tripping over an elevated part of the stoned pavement. The child let out a scream, bumping into someone who appeared to be a blonde-haired man who smelled fruity and also wore wet clothes. “Eugh…” Adora found the sensation unpleasant so she pulled away with a frown, her emerald orbs squinting at the stranger.

It was only a matter of seconds before the heavy footsteps of armored guards came into a halt and the Queen of Orh appeared before them, with the Crowned Princess following closely behind. Her sharp eyes fixed themselves onto the short-haired blonde whom her daughter had barreled into, asking herself if they had met before ultimately brushing it off. “Adora,” Deianira called for her daughter, reaching a hand out which the child quickly took before hugging her dress. “I’m sorry…” The little princess muttered. Diantha bent down and asked her sister if she was alright, to which the latter replied with a small yes that earned the little one a relieved smile.

“Ah pleasure to see you here, Lord Steorra.” Diantha, now standing with poise, continued. “I hope we didn’t trouble you two with Adora, she got a bit too excited at the sight of someone familiar.” She gave the two of them a small wave.

The Queen opted to share her step-daughter's formality and acknowledge the councilman in their presences. “Lord Steorra,” she gave the Amier a small nod before shifting her attention to the other individual, “Do excuse my daughter’s interference.” Her tone held its usual dullness, as though she didn't really care whether they would accept it or not. After all, what could they do about it?

Trektek Ambiloquous

 

[AI10100]

J A E S T R I X , D E S M O N D
Interacting with: soggyparadise
Location: Karavan Festival, Kingdom of Thyrea​

Desmond had gone ahead from the royal family - the man being all too familiar with the Kingdom of Thyrea. It certainly wasn't his first Karavan festival either, but this time, he was actually with other people. The last time the Karavan Festival came around, he had to sneak out of his duties just to be able to go. Despite being such a young teenager, he was able to navigate his way to Thyrea using a select few people to guide him around. He had thoroughly enjoyed the entire festival and he had practically been gone for a week thanks to it. His father would have locked him inside his room after that had he cared enough. It was quite an enjoyable event and he had been looking forward to the next time he would be able to go.

But nevermind those times. Now, Desmond was allowed - practically required - to attend the Karavan Festival as part of the Orh Council. However, there were many more things that Desmond had wanted to do while he was at the Festival. It made it easier to be able to connect with the Sierrans and the Thyreans. It wouldn't be out of place for him to talk with such people while he is in the festival. A little bit of face to face interactions would improve their social relations.

Saoirse was sent out to have fun in the festival. It would be easy to make contact with her if he ever needed it. Considering that there wasn't much they were supposed to do, Desmond had allowed her to have fun. She was a hybrid in Thyrea - she would be able to freely interact with everyone without people glaring at her. Or well, at least, she'd be able to interact with the Thyreans no problem. Both Orhians and Sierrans had their own prejudices against the Hybrids after all.

But Desmond did have a specific goal in mind. Just one that he absolutely must be able to do.

And that was to search for a specific writer called Thedore King. Desmond had stumbled upon the writer a few years back. It was rather amusing to read about them - unnerving, whenever he heard a specific scene that felt powerful in the book happened in real life, but such coincidences do happen sometimes. This would have been all well and all until one such book began to resound with him. The story was rather nice but there were some scenes - such as the betrayal of a queen by her trusted adviser - that made him pause. It would have been impossible for someone from Thyrea to know about what had happened. Desmond had chalked it up to it being a rather cliche scene that people have done before.

But he couldn't get it out of his mind. He had Aylianna investigate who this man was. She had provided him with a solid description so he shouldn't really have any problems while he's searching for the young man. So he slipped through the crowded festival to try and search for said man.

And find him he did. Desmond wasted no time as he strode towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Pardon me, but I was wondering, are you Theodore King, the writer?" He put on his friendliest smile, hoping that the man would not be scared of him due to his forwardness.

 

[cinnabuns]

S A O I R S E
Location: Thyrea; Karavan Festival​

Saoirse still had moments where her horns gave her an incredible amount of pause.

One would think at a festival in Thyrea, of all places, would relieve the young woman from worrying about them. But it seemed the lax behavior of the Thyreans didn't override the feelings she felt when she was in Orh, or the words she'd received from Sierrans. If anything, it just made her feel confused. Aylianna wasn't surprised when she leaned against the door, watching Saoirse carefully wrap her some of her hair around her horns before bringing the rest into an updo. Saoirse's fingers slowly grabbed some seeds she'd gotten from her garden, back in Orh, planting them delicately into different parts of her hair to get all of it covered. This was the girl she'd known for years, after all. Aylianna immediately knew hiding her horns was Saoirse's normal, but she spoke anyway.

"I thought you would want to enjoy those today."

Saoirse hummed in response to what Ayli said, and as she did, the flowers seemingly blossomed, without water. This wasn't new to Ayli; she'd seen Saoirse grow trees without batting an eyelash. But it was quite captivating, for just a moment. Such beautiful petals, now adorning Saoirse's sunset locks.

Would have been prettier with the girl's horns, but, no matter.

"You think so? I might be able to do better work if they're covered."

"But Saoirse, darling. Aren't you supposed to be off?" Aylianna was quite amused. Saoirse always seemed to be interested in working. If it wasn't for her extracurricular activities, it was for her flower shop. How she wasn't exhausted at the end of every day was a mystery; it was like she ran on productivity. It was very interesting. "Like, you said, 'even off for the shop today!', off?"

"Oh, wow, you're absolutely correct...." Saoirse gave the younger Jaestrix a sheepish smile, fixing her white veil over her hair. An extra method of protection against her horns being discovered. "I think I might be a workaholic! That must explain it, right?"

Truth was, Saoirse felt the need to do things constantly. Her hands had to keep busy. An excellent distraction from the thoughts she had about herself. She'd been trying all of these years to get rid of those, and it had been working...but it seemed like the closer she got to full confidence, the harder the thoughts reminded her of her faults. They sounded like her mother and...the councilman. But It just made things easier, and kept her mind from....

...wandering....

"Yes." Ayli nodded. "We should get going."

Saoirse stood, her smile growing. Even with her feelings on how she appeared to the general public, she was incredibly excited about being out and about as she usually was. Especially since this was during a festival. There was always so much to see when they were around. She knew the councilman and her mother had taken her to this festival before, to keep up good appearances between Orh and Thyrea (she couldn't say much for Sierra). But it had been such a long time ago, there was so much she couldn't remember. The happiness she felt at a somewhat new experience made her unable to wait any longer, taking Aylianna's hand in hers.

"Come, come!"

-----​

Oh, it was so gorgeous.

Saoirse was traveling by herself now, around the festival. Emerald eyes caught all of the excitement, ruby lips opening in awe at the festivities. This was such a different type of beauty, she thought. Much different than her garden, at least. She was transfixed as she walked past happy children with their parents, all the active booths, the scents of delicious food in the air...she was so happy to be here.

Desmond wasn't far. Her fingers ran along the chain around her neck. That was comforting. And neither was Aylianna. Maybe she'd be able to see the princesses today too, if she were lucky...it had been a while since they had seen each other last. A smile graced Saoirse's face as she thought of them all. Such good people. She hoped they were all having a nice time so far. With the blissful energy around the festival so far, she assumed so. Everyone deserved a brief respite from their hard work.

Except for her, since she was handing out flowers to the citizens. So maybe it wasn't a brief respite for her. But she was absolutely having a good time, at least. She was especially having a good time with getting more visitors to her flower shop. More business was always good for her. Plus, seeing the way that people's faces lit up when they received a rose, or a daisy, how much they stared in awe as she grew flowers from seeds in front of them...Saoirse lived to see that. Saoirse continued to make her flowers her main mode of socialization, interested in seeing and observing at first, before she got involved in the festival's activities more herself. If she saw someone she recognized, maybe she would wave, but for now, she seemed to be in her own, flower populated world.

At some sort of peace.

 

[Mykinkaiser]

ROLAND
_______________________________________________
​

It had been a while since Roland had accepted a job. This was mainly due to the fact that his last client was of the particularly pompous variety, annoying the mercenary to no end. As such, when he had finished the job, he'd immediately headed off to the forest for some time alone, away from civilization and the irritating people who called it home.

He had a hard time understanding those who voluntarily lived out their entire lives in cities. They were crowded, noisy, and full of strange and pointless unspoken rules. It wasn't enough to do honest work it seemed, you also had to know the right people and perform elaborate social rituals. The whole thing was just a farce as far as he was concerned. The forest was much simpler, and thus much better. The only laws were those of survival, and they were easy to understand. Maybe one day he'd understand, but he was in no hurry to either.

However, all good things must come to an end eventually as Roland decided that it was time for him to head back out of the forest and once again begin searching for a job. Grumbling to himself, he set about collecting his gear and getting ready to set out. He'd only just finished this when he heard a faint wailing carry through the trees. It sounded more human than bestial to Roland's well experienced ear. Sighing quietly to himself, he began to make his way in that direction, all the while thinking to himself that this was likely going to end up being troublesome to no end.

His fears turned out to be right on the money as he came upon the source of the wailing, a young girl hastily climbing a tree. His annoyed scowl only deepened as, upon reaching a branch, she turned and addressed him in a haughty tone. Already he wanted to be rid of her. Still, this was one of his favorite areas of the woods, so if getting her out of here meant interacting with her for a bit, so be it.

"Were you crying because you're lost?" He asked gruffly, entirely ignoring what she had said about a trap, "I'll lead you out. Follow." Punctuating the last command with a jerk of his head, Roland resumed walking towards the edge of the forest.

Location: The forests of Thyrea
Mentions: waifu

​

 

[Reinhardt]

Anya

FESTIVAL GROUNDS​

The Karavan Festival. A time wherein the folks from all over the lands gather in one spot and partake in the various festivities and activities, without regard of their origin, allegiance, and race - it's just a bunch of people having fun together, as they should. From the greatest authorities of all the nations, to the most insignificant individual, no one is excluded in this celebration.

A event filled with camaraderie and joy. It is even said that the biggest quarrels that could ever pop up in such a time would be easily dispelled and overwhelmed by the postive atmosphere.

Such a wonderful time, right?

WRONG.

There's too many people crowding the streets. Unfiltered chatter is heard everywhere. It's almost like an overpopulated flea market - and Anya hated flea markets, ever since that time when she went into one which actually sold flea in the stalls, which left her itching for a week until she could take out all the fleas that hopped onto her.

Most of the festival took place outdoors, under the mercy of the merciless sun's heat. And to add to that, the accumulated body heat of the overwhelming crowd only makes it even worse. And when there's too much heat, there's bound to be too much smell - and Anya hated too much smell, ever since she was mistakenly given a meal filled with a tremendous amount of vinegar, with a very old cider as its beverage and both gave off this combined rancid stench, which made her buy numerous perfumes and basking flower fields for five days, just to rid off the horrid scent that stuck to her nose.

And then, a bird's fresh droppings fell right onto her shoulder. As she looked up to find the source of the discharge that's slowly dripping from her shoulder down to her sides, all she saw was this strange, feathery avian that seemed to have a smiling face.

Veins popped.
Fists clenched.
Teeth grinding.
One could even picture steam fuming out of her ears, nose and mouth.

A loud ferocious growl that made most of the crowd shut up, cease their current activities and just look at her.

"You pea-brained flying feather duster!", she shouted as she picked up a pebble and threw it at the avian, which easily evaded it.

She grunted. And groaned. Then, she picked up more rocks and threw all of them again, as she was spouting numerous insults about the bird. Of course, the bird easily avoided them by flying out of the trajectory.

Slowly, the crowd thinned out - some leaving after being weirded out. Others out of concern that she was insane and might accidentally cause harm to them. The rest that stayed watched from a distance, either because they were amused by her antics, or because they were intrigued of her sudden outburst.

But those that remained left immediately when she uprooted a marble bench from the ground and started breaking them into chunks to throw at the bird - who miraculously kept avoided Anya's assaults.

Eventually, guards assigned to the festival came and tried to apprehend the raging hybrid that kept chucking broken chunks of marble and stone at the unbelievably evasive bird - of course, this only made the already agitated Anya to get even more furious.

And all-out brawl surfaced not even a minute after, involving Anya, several guards, and a bird flying and hopping from one post to another.

An hour has passed and it's still going on.

A tremendous amount of mess and wreckage is just left in this place.

Somebody stop them.

 

[waifu]

Cecelia laughed at the man's question. "Me? Lost? You are clearly mistaken - and enamored by my presence."

Cecelia's pace picked up as they continued to make their way out of the forest, she didn't want to lose her way again, so she obediently trailed behind him.

"Your desire to serve me impresses me greatly, Minion," she remarked out of the blue. "In honor of your courage, I shall reveal to you my name. I am known as Masked Asura, one who has claimed dominion over evil. My name alone brings chaos and destruction to all so I will allow you to address me simply as Cecelia."

Cecelia flashed her winning smile and trudged along.

Mykinkaiser