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Fantasy Immortuos

Lore
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Another name came up. Willow. Isla kept the name in her mind, wondering if anyone had mentioned her before but not recalling anything of the sort. Instead of being curious about what happened to Willow-it would be rude to ask what happened to her and how she died-but again, Rahna had moved on to another topic. Finally the secrets and the mystery of Amalthea was revealed to Isla, and she couldn't say that she was shocked nor surprised.

It was a little far fetched, but it looks like this place was the blood and sweat of wolves. They had been oppressed for so long and had just wanted to be on equal grounds as everyone else, particularly, it seemed, they had a dislike towards vampires and although Isla understood, she was just the same as Rahna, she immediately hoped that no such fight would break out. Could it not be solved with words? But the last thing Isla wanted to do was to downplay the wolves' burdens. Perhaps this was bigger than what she thought it was.

"...I see..." She feared then. For the two of her companions. The two people she had found as a safe base in all the chaos that she had landed into. She feared that she would be forced to choose a side, sooner or later, and that she would be stuck in a very hard place. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, only promising herself to do everything she could to help both sides come to a peaceful conclusion, if possible. There was no way she was going to endorse violence. "In that case... He must be carrying something really heavy,"

Isla suddenly concludes, her thoughts racing back to Sol. That same person who shone like the sun had the responsibility of being the beta in such tough times, she briefly flashes back to the scene this morning, his worry over her associating with Diavel now a bit clearer. She now understood why Sol was hesitant to bring her here in the first place. She falls silent for a long while before finally looking up at Rahna. "...I'll look after him," Isla says, all of a sudden.

She noticed that Sol spent an awful lot of time on the surface, running around taking errands for Diavel. Isla told herself that she wasn't trying to take advantage of her friendship with Diavel, but she at least could try and make things easier for Sol by... how, exactly? Keeping Diavel in a good mood? Keeping him preoccupied so that he doesn't lash out at them? Perhaps Diavel wasn't their greatest problem, it seemed as if this Count Carden was one as well. Other than that, Isla was sure it wouldn't be difficult to keep an eye on Sol from time to time, he was currently staying in the mansion after all, they were pretty much in the same space.
 
Rahna smiled a small, thankful smile at Isla when she stated that she'd look after Sol. Her brother was more than capable of taking care of himself, at least physically, but she did worry about his emotional well-being. Sure he always seemed to be fine, an endlessly optimistic people person and strong beyond his years, but was that really all there was to his smile? She couldn't imagine him always being just fine, not with how he was taking care of everything every day, every minute. Just now he of course had left to help repair the tunnel.

"I'd be glad to know that he has someone to turn to", Rahna sighed, at least half relieved. "I think his biggest issue is that he believes he has to protect everyone, especially his pack, and won't allow himself to let others help him carry whatever he's bearing. I know he's strong, but no one can go on forever without ever taking a break."

At the same time though, she did feel a little bad about just basically ranting to Isla instead of having a fun time together. She had arrived here just a couple of times ago, she for sure had enough worries keeping her awake at night.
Apropos not being able to sleep-
"Oh, by the way, if Sol's stone is not gonna do the job with helping you sleep, tell me and I'll put together some calming tea you can brew before you go to bed."

"Okay!", she added as she got up from the couch, patted some folds out of her skirt and crossed her arms with an excited grin. "Instead of sitting here and brooding over my brother's problems we could as well go on a little tour through town. If you're gonna be here now and again you'll need to know your way around, after all! Plus- I think I know someone who can tell you more than Sol or I about your... Unexpected journey. Whatcha say?"
 
"I think his biggest issue is that he believes he has to protect everyone, especially his pack, and won't allow himself to let others help him carry whatever he's bearing. I know he's strong, but no one can go on forever without ever taking a break."

As Isla ponders this statement about Sol she couldn't help but also think back to a certain vampire duke. A duke who thought about his people a lot, although seemingly cold towards them. In some ways they were similar yet in so many ways they were not. Isla could start to see what it was that drew her to these two people specifically.

Underneath it all... They do have kind hearts...

"I'll remember that," Isla tells Rahna and keeps the information in her mind. At her offer to give her a tea brew to help her sleep, Isla felt wholly relieved that there was such knowledgeable and helpful people like Rahna in this world. In her world the only thing that would help her sleep were sleeping pills and the refusal to do her work for the day. As Rahna stands to seemingly, excitedly take her for a tour, Isla stands as well and nods.

"Someone who knows about my world travelling?" Isla's eyes widen a fraction, largely intrigued by this information. "That would be really helpful! Anything would be helpful!" She starts to say in a sort of half-panic but stops herself and sighs a bit. "I really don't quite know why I ended up here but... to be honest it's not as bad as I thought..." Sure it was scary at night and there were so many things she didn't know... but it could've been worse than this. Isla had started believing what Sol had told her the other day, that she was part of the solution and perhaps she had a purpose she had to fulfill here.

After that... Would I be able to go back home?
 
A warm smile appeared on Rahna's face when Isla said that it wasn't quite as bad here as she had thought. Yeah, Naphuron was far from perfect, probably the entire world of Nova was, but it did have it good sides, too.
"Well, if you don't find a way back to your world or just decide that you want to stay, you won't be left alone to build up your life here. I can't speak for the vampire, but Sol and I will help you in any way we can."

After untying the teal drape around her hip that she wore over her long, orange skirt, and hanging it over the back of the couch, she shapeshifted into her wolf form; a smaller, sand brown and white brindled wolf with unusually long fur and relatively short legs.
Just seconds after she had released a long howl, a boy, probably in his teenage years, with curly, jet black hair and friendly green eyes, came in just as Rahna was shifting back.
"You called?"
"Ah, Valerian! Yes. I wanted to take Isla here on a tour through town, so I need you to keep an eye on everything here. Howl if you need me, okay?"
"Yes Rahna."

Leading Isla down the narrow path that connected her tent to main place, she took the chance to introduce they boy she had just met. "That boy was Valerian", she explained with a proud grin.
"My apprentice. I'm really proud of him, he's doing great."
She pushed the branches of a weeping willow aside, that sheltered the path to her ward from prying eyes, revealing the center clearing, a wide, open space with small, mumbling springs.
The enormous jewel overhead cast a warm, golden light across the place, just like a couple of big, flat rocks off to the right edge.
An old, blueish-gray she-wolf was laying comfortably on one of the rocks, enjoying the warmth it was giving off while telling stories to a group of kids.
"For fifty years she rocked that baby, it's said she rocks him still. To this day, when you wander the hills of Dalnacreich, you can hear the wind carrying her voice as she sings her changeling child's lullaby", she ended the tale when Isla and Rahna approached.
"Rahna", she greeted them with a smile. "And you must be Isla. Word spreads quickly."
Her shining blue eyes wandered across her face with the curiosity of a child, until realization mixed into her gaze and she seemed... Actually a little startled.
"Oh... Dear, what happened to you? You have faced death, I can smell it. And still you live."
Realizing that she hadn't even introduced herself, she shook her head, giving Isla an apologetic smile. "Oh I'm sorry. My name is Innana, I'm the oldest wolf of this pack. But I'm sure Rahna didn't just bring you here to say hello. So what can I help you with, dear?"
 
Rahna's promise of helping her if she found that she was stuck in this world warmed her heart. It was such a small gesture yet so incredibly thoughtful. As Rahna shifted into her wolf form, Isla curiously stared at her form, nothing that she was smaller than Sol or Akeela, whom she had just met earlier. The howl she let out resounded through the tent, it wasn't loud per se, but it was a sound that seemed to travel far.

As Isla followed her through the path and as she listened to Rahna's explanation of who the young wolf was, Isla was once again amazed. Such a young looking teen had made himself useful. Teens in her world would only mostly be useful if it involved making viral videos. "Everyone really contributes here huh?" She said, astounded and admiring their community spirit.

They approached Innana who was telling a rather peculiar--Isla might even call it creepy--story. She kept her mouth shut out of politeness, not about to comment on their age old stories.

"Oh... Dear, what happened to you? You have faced death, I can smell it. And still you live."

"I..." There it was again. Was she the fourth, fifth person now that had told her she was dead? Something in the back of her mind clicks, as if a cog falls in place and starts turning properly. She's suddenly whisked away into a memory that seemed to be shelved in a dusty corner of her mind.

Reading on her phone while crossing the street. Loud screams, blinding lights and then...silence. and pain.

She comes back to reality and is hit with the realization that something had happened to her back in her world. Did she die? Was she in grave danger? Had she been sent here as a last ditch effort to survive? Was that what happened? She bowed her head slightly though, deciding to introduce herself first. "I'm Isla. I... came here from another world," She decides not to think about it again and faces the she-wolf first. "I'm not quite sure how to get back to my own world... Is there anything you could possibly tell me about it?"

Another good thing that had came about from today was finding an alternative to that alchemist. Perhaps the she-wolf had more answers to offer her... or more questions, depending on what she said. Still, she felt good about that, rather than relying on the alchemist.
 
"We can't afford to be selfish", was all Rahna said before she sat down on the edge of the rock, watching as Innana morphed into her human shape - an old white-haired lady with wrinkles littering her face that somehow still seemed so young - and drew two overlapping circles into the earth before her.
"I will tell you what my great-grandfather told me, what his great-grandfather told him", she said to Isla as she drew her thick, heavily patterned poncho closer around her shoulders.

"The world always strives for balance. Whenever there is darkness, there will be light, and whenever there is too much, somewhere else will be a void. Like a spring and river can't exist without each other, so do our worlds. According to the legends, your world and ours are are two parts of a whole, a place where magic is born, and a void drained of it. They need each other to thrive, which of course means that they are connected, like the two sides of a coin. You just slipped from the one side to the other. So much for how you came here."

The old lady shifted a little, into a more comfortable position, aided by Rahna as her left shoulder cracked audibly. She flinched, pain mixing into her expression for a moment.
"I'll get you some willow tea later", Rahna said with a pitiful smile.
The old wolf had always had problems with her shoulder, but it had gotten worse lately. Some days she was barely able to move her left arm.

"Now, the why is simpler and more complicated, all the same", Innana continued to explain as she reached out to take Isla's hand into her soft, gnarled hands like she was promising that everything would get better once.
"There is more than one way to get here. You, my dear, I think you died. Or, well, death had already held you in its hand. I can only imagine two possible ways why you have landed here. Either fate mistook you for someone you aren't and saved you. It might have been triggered by a ritual. If that ritual was meant to address a doppelganger of you, those mishaps can happen. In this case it would've been a lucky accident.
Or fate saw something in you and gave you a second chance in life. Maybe it's trying to correct a past mistake or needs you to fix something, things like that happen sometimes. It used to be way easier to foresee, back when the gods were still here. They weaved the threads of fate and sometimes, they would listen. But since they disappeared fate is doing whatever it thinks is right."

Her hold on Isla's hand tightened a little, a reassuring, gentle squeeze as she smiled warmly at her.
She could feel it all around this girl, a whiff of death, yes, but more than that, fate. Whatever it had planned for her- it was something big.

"Whether it was an accident or the working of fate that saved you- this world wants you here. I think if you want to go back to your world- find out what this world wants of you. Be observant, listen to your inner voice. I think once you get in touch with what brought you here finding a way back will be easier."

"You're welcome to stay though."
Beaming like the sun as always, Sol had appeared behind Isla with his inevitable warm smile lighting up his face.
"The tunnel is repaired."
 
Isla visualizes her world and this world as two semi-circles that form a complete cirlcle, at least, that's how she was imagining it as the old wolf explained. One was where magic was born and one was void. When she heard the grandma's back crack audibly though, she winced a little but was much interested in what the old lady had to say afterwards. Either a ritual had summoned her, or it was fate. Isla wanted to believe the latter more.

"Find out what this world wants of me..." She mumbles after her, throwing the idea around in her head. Her eyes gleam over with a hint of realization. It was a long shot, but it gave her a sense of purpose. She didn't forget the part about the ritual though, but stored it in her brain for now. She smiles back at the old lady as she squeezes her hand. Isla is renewed with motivation, repeating in her head that all she had to do was find out what she was here for, and probably her world would open up to her again. Of course, she was painfully aware that it could have been wishful thinking, but it was a positive way of looking at it, and she would rather be positive right now.

Isla's back twitches the slightest bit in surprise at Sol's sudden arrival. She whips around, not knowing why she felt so gleeful at having him back. It seemed as if she was the puppy in this situation, waiting for her owner. Perhaps his statement had also added to her delight. "Welcome back!" She gives him a brief smile and turns to Rahna and Innana again. "Thank you so much, I'll keep it in mind," Isla says regarding Innana. Her head moves to look at Rahna, smile turning solemn. "I hope I can come back some time, but I think I really have to be going. It was really fun today!"

Isla gives a little wink to Rahna, knowing that Sol wouldn't be able to see it. "I'll hold on to all the little stories you told me," and finally turned back to Sol again, looking up at him. "Should we go? Or you have more errands to run here?"
 
Sol's gaze flicked between Isla, Innana and Rahna for a moment as a questioning look appeared in his eyes. Seemed like Innana had told her some of their old legends, probably what she knew about the whole matter of soul traveling. And Rahna... He didn't even want to start thinking about what she might have told Isla.
Would he need to dig a hole in the ground to bury himself in shame?

Her obvious happiness about seeing him again however made him grin. It was sweet, and he was happy to apparently have made another friend.
"I'm all done", he answered her question and motioned one hand towards the tunnel leading out of the cavern.
While they had been repairing the tunnel he had told Aspen to unlock the door in the dungeons so they wouldn't have to take the long way from tunnel number two, that would lead them through the forest.

"Do come back, I'm awaiting zeal from my apprentices!", Rahna said with a grin as she waved Isla goodbye while she was heading for her tent to retrieve some painkillers for Innana.
Depite the pain, though, the old lady didn't let herself be stopped from waving, too. She almost looked like she was saying bye to one of her grandchildren, not a stranger she had just met.
It was the pack effect, emotions spread quickly among the wolves, so Sol liking Isla had a certain effect on the others, too.

"So, I hope my sister didn't make you think of me as the fool of the century with her stories", he chuckled as he led Isla back through the tunnel. He seemed to be joking, but there was a hint of insecurity in his voice, too.
"So... What do you think of my family?"
 
As Isla waves goodbye to Rahna, she eventually turns her full attention to Sol as they ventured back into the tunnel. She pats her pocket, just to check the gem he had given her earlier and shrugs at Sol's statement about stories making him fool of the century. She laughs a little, "I mean... Just a little," she laughs as she remembers bits of the stories but she becomes quiet after a while and glances up at him, reminded again about how tall he was.

"...But she mostly told me how hardworking you are," Isla wouldn't mention their mother. She didn't think it was time for that, but treads carefully on what she's about to say. "I don't know if she's told you but she worries about you, with good reason," Isla firmly states and answers his question about his family. "You have such a great family and such a good relationship with them too," She thinks back to her own, broken relationship with her family, barely even talking or socializing with them. What Sol had was beyond beautiful to her. "...I think you can rely on them a bit more, I mean, that's what family and what packs are about, right?"

She recalls Rahna's statement about Sol always wanting and needing to protect everyone, and while that was noble, it was also unrealistic. "...I think your pack deserves a little more credit, I mean... None of this would be possible if it was only a one-man team, right?" She wasn't very sure if she was still on the right track of knocking some sense into him, perhaps the whole thing had went over his head and he would just dismiss everything that she had said, so she made her last remarks more light hearted.

"If you have some spare time I would love it if you took some time to just... water the sunflowers with me, and talk," she falls in step beside him and adds as a last word "...we don't always have to talk about happy things, you know? Talking about things that are difficult can help too. But happy things are great! I always like hearing about all the different people you know about, Sol,"
 
Sol watched Isla with an expression of wonder in his eyes as they walked down the tunnel. He had only met her just two days ago, but the friendship that had started to firm between them felt like it's been longer. And she kept impressing him. The way she talked to him, treated him... She made it so easy to feel at ease around her.
The more he was scared to be different from what she had seen until now- a strong, positive person who couldn't be brought down by anything. Maybe she'd like him less if he'd show sadness, frustration or anything like that. But maybe if he wouldn't, she'd feel rejected, or like he didn't trust her...
What a predicament.

"You know what's the problem with you?", he asked rhetorically as he stopped, watching Isla's face with slightly furrowed eyebrows before he broke into a soft grin. "You treat me like a friend. You make me feel good around you. And the worst- you trigger my hugging-instinct. We wolves just are like that. But I know humans are more distant than we are so I'm constantly left to worry about crossing any lines! ...But I'd love to water the sunflowers with you."
He winked at her before he looked around in the darkness clearly trying to make up his mind about whether he should avoid the topic of difficult talks or say more. Would she be able to understand him at all? Humans were so very different in so many things...

With a nod towards the path ahead he suggested to walk on, and soon his eyes followed scenes only he could see.
"I wasn't born down there, you know?", he finally said softly. "There are places in this world where people like me are... bred, like you'd breed dogs or horses to sell them."
His eyes flared up with anger for just a second before he shook his head and released a long sigh.
"Greyback M. 499, that's what they called me, just a label for my fur pattern, my gender and my number. It was my mother who named me after the sun. You see, the sun is more to us than just a ball of light in the sky, it's life, and hope, it will always rise and chase away the dark."

Normally he would've taken on his wolf form right now, as he always did when he felt vulnerable, it just made him feel stronger, but this time he avoided it, feeling like hiding behind his powerful form would make what he wanted to say seem less genuine.
"She never saw us grow up, we were taken away when were young kids. But we are all connected and I just, I feel she's still somewhere out there..."

Finally, after what felt like hours to him, they reached the door leading out of the tunnel and into the dungeons below the mansion. His hand resting on the door knob, he looked her in the eye for the first time since he had started to talk about more serious matters. There was sadness written clearly in his gaze, just like loneliness, despite the pack he was a part of. For just a moment he looked tired like an old man and helpless like a little child all the same.
"... I just want her to be proud of me..."
 
Isla muses a little at Sol's observation of her. The fact that she treated him like a friend was not a big problem to her but it seemed like the wolf was rather surprised at that act. Well, Diavel had said nearly the same thing. She couldn't remember his exact words right now. But it was something about... Waking up from a long sleep? How refreshing it was to have someone to talk to, or something like that. Isla started to understand what it was that made them feel that way.

"Humans have less things to worry about, I think," she started, thinking about the various things that Diavel had gone through and Sol had gone through. "and I'm really only stating the truth." she had walked on eggshells the first time she landed here, not wanting to offend Diavel. But in the few days she stayed she figured out that what the people around here needed was honesty. It seemed as if everyone was always trying to conceal their words one way or another, she wasn't any of that mostly because she didn't feel the need to. "I don't know if you've noticed but I think I'm in a desperate need for friends, seeing as I'm in a world I'm not familiar with," there was that too, Dia, Sol and Rahna had made her feel at ease in a time that wasn't supposed to be, despite not knowing them for long. Isla chuckles a little at Sol's worry about hugs though, "...Hugs are ok, Sol," and she quickly adds, "but maybe warn me," she gets the mental image of being crushed against his bare chest, it'd be a little embarrassing but if he really needed a hug then she wouldn't deny him. "Although I must say I think I prefer hugs in your wolf form," her face takes on the slight look of bliss at the thought of smoothing down his soft fur and burying her face in the fluffiness.

She fell silent though as Sol started to talk about his mother, it surprised her a little. Much like Dia had surprised her by talking about his scar. She had offered to listen, but didn't always expect the full story out of anyone. Perhaps these people had gone too long without anyone asking them about their well-being. Nevertheless, she accepted their stories and listened. It was the least she could do for all the things they'd offered her here.

As they approached the dungeon doors he had put on a difficult expression that Isla had never seen from him. He looked and felt like a different person. Isla couldn't help but raise her hand moving it to his forehead, and flicked his forehead. Hard. She knew she couldn't really hurt him anyway, she'd just wanted to startle him. "...I don't know what you're talking about, I've only met you for a few days and I'm already proud of you," mostly because of what Rahna had relayed to her, how he worked hard behind the scenes and still put up a brave and sunny front for everyone. "If your mother could see you now I'm pretty sure she would be too, this isn't some type of mystery,"

"Once you get in touch with what brought you here finding a way back will be easier, is what Innana told me," Sure, she was talking about different worlds, but she felt as if Sol could take that advice too. "You have a purpose in Amalthea, and maybe, once everything is done there... finding your way back to your mother would be easier," Isla had a feeling that it would be simpler and better that way too. To reunite at a time of peace, but maybe she was reading everything wrong, and yet again giving bad advice to the wolf. "Well... that's what I think anyway, fate is funny like that, see what it did to me?" She defaults to humor yet again but smiles up at the downtrodden guy, "...Thanks for telling me, you've come a long way!" She said, as if praising a child but genuinely meaning it at the same time.

Now the next part of her hurdle, was to be hush hush about the whole thing with Diavel. Easier said than done, she thinks, seeing as she has a wrapped up ankle, she only hoped that the vampire wouldn't be angry at Sol. If it came to that, she supposed she would step in and say something about it yet again, but Dia was just like that when he was angry. He had a temper, and Isla knew that, being witness to it before.
 
The offended expression that had settled on Sol's face when Isla had hit him on the forehead, causing him to flinch back with a mix of a startled yelp and a warning growl, soon made space for a softer expression as he just watched her for a moment. Humans were so very different from both, vampires as well as werewolves...
There had always been something about them that had fascinated him, maybe it was the way they, despite being far from powerful enough to challenge Cryptids, always tried to make it better, or this glow of inner strength that would show whenever they were at their lowest...
Despite all that, though, they also were fragile. Not weak... but fragile indeed.
The pictures of the strange room flashed back into his head and made his neck fur stand up. Okay, so the vampire had possibly removed the rune circle, but that didn't mean that Isla was out of danger. And even if Diavel himself wouldn't mean her any harm; he knew the man had... countless enemies, and vampires were far from stupid, even if he hated to admit it.
They would go for his weakest spot, and after this morning it was clear that that was Isla.

Pushing his brooding aside, at least for now, he gave her a soft grin and morphed into his wolf form. "Now it's your own fault", he chuckled as he pulled her in with one front paw, chin resting on her shoulder.
He had noticed how her expression had changed, if he had to guess she was worrying about something, so he hoped that his soft fur and body heat would help ease her mind a little. Maybe he couldn't silence his own mind, but at least he could help calm hers.
"I don't know if it matters, but- I'm proud of you, too", he hummed contently and lifted his head to gently ruffle her hair with his nose. "Really. And, hey, if you ever need me, whether that's because you pissed off a group of Faye again or because you can't sleep and need someone to talk or something... just whistle. I can hear high frequencies from miles away."

He pushed the door open with his shoulder, revealing the dungeons where the werewolves had lived until just a couple of days ago. The cells were all open, revealing that they had been used as tiny bedrooms furnished with makeshift beds, shelves and selfmade decorations.
"The sun is almost gone", he mentioned; even without windows to see the sky he could feel its power fading as it set beyond the horizon. "Diavel will wake up any moment, you should take a bath. If he smells the scent of other werewolves he doesn't know on you he'll get suspicious."
 
Isla immediately wraps her arms around the wolf's neck when he morphs. This was probably one of her favourite things in this world, wolf hugs. They were just so soft and warm, or was that just particularly Sol? Somehow, Isla thinks that hugging Rahna in her wolf versus hugging Sol in his wolf form were two very different experiences, and she couldn't quite figure out why. "Thanks Sol," she simply says while running a hand up towards the wolf's head, in between its ears.

"Just whistle, huh?" She smiles a little at the thought, liking the idea that he was being such a great friend to answer to her worries so much but, she wasn't going to abuse her little whistle trick. Only if she really needed it. She stepped into the dungeon a moment later, feeling morose that this is where the wolves used to stay. It looked so.. bland. She thanked Sol once again, told her she'd see him soon and went off to do what she was told, lest Dia would find out everything.

She took a long bath, kept the crystal on her bed and thereafter ventured to tell Dia she was sleeping early, tending to the garden had exhausted her and that her feet was killing her--partly true--It didn't seem like the vampire noticed a thing, but... Dia always had his way to conceal his real knowledge.

A few weeks had passed in total normalcy. Isla had tended to the garden, split her time between Sol, Dia and sometimes even Rain. In that time span, she had returned to Amalthea at least twice, and got to know more about the place and its people but, she avoided going there too much because of the complexities that might arise if Diavel found out. The garden though, it had started to slowly gain some more colour in it, as if it had been breathed new life. Isla worked on it quite diligently in her free time. Aside from that, she was finally moved to a new room that was closer to the stairs and thus easier to navigate, in her opinion.

The afternoon of the masquerade Dia had specifically asked Allister Black to do a house visit and do some last adjustments on their fitting. She was asked to change into the dress, which still seemed quite extravagant to her even though she asked for a simple one. Nevertheless it still hugged her curves nicely and was not too tight. The matching half mask was also adorned with a royal blue and silver design. "...Don't get me wrong, it's wonderful... Just that I'm not used to it," She laughs nervously and turns in the outfit, adjusting the mask upon her face. She was currently in her room, being tended to by one of the apprentice tailors while Allister himself was with Diavel.

"Well then, I'll just call for Lord Aurelius, if you're ready?" The apprentice tailor suggested, to which Isla just nodded. Her and Dia had spent quite a lot of time together with all the dance practicing and just... simply talking or indulging in different activities, like teaching Isla how to play chess, but... that part hadn't been very successful. For the masquerade, he did warn her that perhaps it was better for her to stay by his side the entire night. Isla said that she couldn't promise that, specially if it was such a big event, he was bound to get whisked away by some other acquaintances... He seemed like the popular type after all.
 
"I'm surprised, your grace, you never ordered a costume quite like this."
Diavel implied a shrug, just very faintly, to make sure he wouldn't disturb Allister, who was making some final changes on his coat. He wasn't really someone to talk about private things, at least with no one except Rain and Isla, so he remained silent. The small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth gave him away, though.
He was painfully aware of it, so, hoping to somehow distract the tailor, he raised one eyebrow at him. There was a certain hint of an amused sparkling in his eyes as he cocked his head.
"Allister, we've known each other since you arrived here as a stowaway when you were, what, thirteen or something? I don't think this groveling is necessary."
The young man's baffled look gave away just how surprised he was by the duke's words. All hsi life he'd only known him as a stoic, silent man, who always seemed to be so far away, even when he was right here.
" O...kay?", he replied silently before looking back up at the vampire. "Alright, move your wings, please."

In hour-long, meticulous detail work, Allister had applied hundreds of raven feathers to his vampire wings to make them look stunningly realistically like the black, feathered wings of a fallen angel.
"I'm impressed", he admitted, the tailor grinning proudly as he fixed the collar of Diavel's night blue coat, the one with the silver tree stitched into the back. It was a tradition among the dukes and earls to wear their crest on masquerades, and Irewood's was the White Willow.
His hair was left open, mostly, aside from two strands on each side that were tied together in the back, creating a sleek, elegant, almost elven look, adorned by a silver headpiece that almost looked like a thorn crown. Tiny tendrils of Forget-me-not, made of royal blue sapphires, were winding through it to match Isla's dress.
The rest of his attire was relatively normal, a white dress shirt with elegant, silver embroidery and black dress pants.
Black half mask.
He really looked like a fallen angel.

"Your Grace? Are you ready? Miss Isla is waiting for you in her room."
Diavel couldn't even start to describe the giddiness bubbling up in his stomach when Allister's apprentice came in. The past weeks had easily been the best in centuries. With Isla he was really looking forward to this event that he normally loathed; the days seemed a little brighter in general. He just hoped nothing would ruin this evening.
"Okay", he huffed, actually sounding nervous. The tailor and his apprentice smirked as they watched him smoothing some folds out of his shirt and taking a last look into the mirror before he headed out of the room to meet Isla.

Being the polite man he was, he gently knocked at her door before he came in- and stood still, right there in the doorway.
"Wow", he said with a small smile. "You look beautiful, Isla."
He'd kept his wings a secret till now, mainly to surprise her with them today, so he approached to stand next to her in front of the big mirror, spreading one wing to rest it around her shoulders. The black feathers were shimmering night blue in the dim light of the candles.
"Is this the right moment to tell you how happy I am to call you my friend?", he said silently, with a warm grin spreading across his face.
 
When Diavel strolled into her room, she was rather...confused. She didn't recognize him at all, it took a few seconds to digest the fact that the man with wings was actually him. "...Diavel!" She pulls her half mask off of her head and gapes at his reflection in the mirror. She wasn't staring at his outfit, but the wings. They were beautiful and as it makes it way to rest around her shoulders, she didn't feel any sort of fear that she assumed most people would when seeing something like that.

She turns towards him though with a fake displeased look on her face when he says that he's happy to call her a friend. "No, it is the right moment to explain the wings though," She puts a hand to her heart, "I'm hurt you hid it from me for so long, would it be too late to back out from the ball now?" She smirks though and twirls around in her dress, "I'm kidding, I wouldn't do that to you...They're beautiful," but she knew that Diavel was aware of that already.

She took a good look at his attire and saw that their outfits were like a pair. "Well, if I ever get lost I suppose they know where to return me," she jokes, tucking back a strand of stray hair behind her ear. Her hair had been braided, just to keep her wild locks off her face, and it sat neatly on her left shoulder. She takes the skirt of her dress in her hands and curtsies towards him, "I'll be in your hands for tonight, handsome sir. Shall we?" Her humor was just a mask that she was nervous to be going to such an event with the duke. Try as she might to tell herself that it was just a party, and Diavel would be there the whole time, it was still nerve-wracking.
 
Chuckling silently, with an expression of surprise crossing his face, Diavel made a step back and spread his wings to their full length. The flickering light of the candles cast their shadows as enormous black copies across the walls.
"Those?", he asked, watching the black feathers that covered them with a slightly distraught gaze. "I'm a vampire, isn't it common knowledge that we can grow wings at will? If that's already surprising you, watch this!"
In a flurry of mist and feathers, Diavel shapeshifted into the white raven, flew a loop across the room and landed on the back of one of the chairs standing by the table.
Another flurry of mist and he wound around one of the poles of Isla's four-poster bed as a huge, white snake.
When he went back to his actual appearance, he was grinning, clearly pleased as punch.
"Let's go then!"

He clearly was in a better mood than most of the time; his usual calmness and silence was gone, instead he actually seemed excited, like it was the first time in centuries that he was about to have real fun for once. While he was leading Isla downstairs and towards the entrance door he couldn't help the air of positivity he was giving off with every step he took. Compared to a couple of weeks ago, when he had found her alone in the woods, he seemed like an entirely different person, open and bright, but it did nothing to lessen the power showing in every movement. If anything, he just seemed to carry even more energy than usually.
"Normally I'd just fly or take the horse, but I figured both wouldn't be exactly pleasant for you in a dress, so-"
With a broad grin he opened the doors to reveal a black and silver, Victorian two-seater carriage, pulled by a Friesian.

"Milady", he said, taking a bow before he offered her his hand to help her get into the carriage. It was in moments like these that his actual age showed; after more than seven hundred years of life he had adapted quite well, but never gotten rid of what his parents had taught him about politeness so long ago.
After Isla had taken a seat he climbed into the carriage, too, and picked up the reins. "... Been a while...", he mumbled a little insecurely. Giving it a second thought it would've been easier to hypnotize the horse and control it with his mind...
At his signal the horse jerked forwards, prompting Diavel to puff up his cheeks and release the air with a sound somewhere between an elephant and an emergency braking. "Christ!... Sorry, I'm a little rusty..."
The second attempt thankfully went smoother, and soon the carriage rolled down the road, accompanied by the rhythmic click-clack of hooves.
"Ah eh-", he spoke up after some time while a faint blush creeped across his cheeks. "I'm a little embarrassed to say this, but-... There will be a buffet. If you want red wine... Maybe just double check you picked the right decanter, if you know what I mean..."
 
"Oh...!" Isla looked at the elegant Victorian two-seater carriage, taken aback by how beautiful it looked. It totally didn't match Diavel's crappy control over the carriage though but she didn't say that out loud and just chuckled to herself.

"Woah!" His first attempt had her holding on to the arm rest, but she laughed out loud right after. "Could've sent me flying right to the ball there, that'd be convenient," Her laugh tapers off and they fall into a comfortable silence. She grins again though when warned about the red wine. "Hey, you never know I might like it better than the red wine," she quickly adds though, "but not to worry, I'm not fond of red wine,"

Isla didn't know how long it was when they arrived but the conversation with Diavel had kept her occupied. To climb down the carriage, Diavel had offered his hand again and she accepted, stepping off easily. The carriage had been passed off to someone else, presumably to keep it safe, like a valet service back in her world, she thinks. Immediately she felt as if several people had their eyes on her already, or maybe they were looking at Diavel. Either way, she looks up at him as they walk towards the building, "...You know, I really do think you look handsome, I'm not sure how many ladies--or men, really--are wanting to knock me out and take my place at this moment but I can feel the numbers aren't small," she slightly chuckles and follows his lead. That was mostly what she was going to do tonight, until she got a feel of the place and people.
 
The second he and Isla had stepped off the carriage Diavel could feel the stares of everyone around on him. He wasn't surprised, being stared at was not new to him, though not for the reason Isla mentioned. No, they stared at him because they knew what he was capable of, they knew how many vampires had lost their lives at his hand, and they knew that he wouldn't hesitate to rid someone of their arm to make a clear point.
They were staring because they didn't trust him, at least the Sigrid and Vesuvia vampires.
That, and being a bit of a legend did make people stare, even among his own and Lucian's Covens.
Not to mention that he usually never, never came with a plus one.

He old-fashionedly offered his arm to her, suppressing a grin when he could've sworn he had seen, for just a split second, how some had been watching with their mouths agape.

"Believe me, Issie- not a single soul here would like to take your place", he mumbled silently so only she could hear him. It was true, though; for once, most if not all of these vampires here wouldn't want to be human ever again. Secondly, they wouldn't want to be a sheep among lions. And thirdly, not this close to him. "But what does itatter as long as you are enjoying yourself? I don't know about you, but my mission tonight is to make sure we're going to have a good time."

With Diavel pushing the entrance doors of Lord Devorak's mansion open, the richly decorated ball room was revealed. Banners of the four duchies were hanging side by side by a massive fireplace, the chandeliers were so packed with crystals that magic must've been used to make sure they wouldn't be torn from their suspensions by their sheer weight.
Long ebony tables were bending under masses of foods and beverages and a small orchestra was playing music from a balcony.
"Ah, Yulian outdid himself as always", Diavel remarked mildly. He had seen it coming, the young vampire loved to host gatherings and parties.

When a vampire waved at them from across the room who looked remarkably much like Diavel, with the same fine features, the same tall build and even the same, slate gray eyes, the biggest difference being his long, jet black hair in contrast to Diavel's silvery-white, he waved back with his smile immediately widening.
"You see that guy over there?", he noted as he leaned towards Isla. "If, for whatever reason, we happen to get separated- that man's name is Lucian, he's the Duke of Atera and the firstborn of my blood line. You can trust him as much as you can trust me."
 
"Hmmmm?" Isla wonders out loud when he says that not a single soul there would want to take her place. She didn't see why not but smiled as he reassured her that they should just focus on enjoying themselves. "I'll try my best," she promises. Although she feels a number of stares their way she places her hand on his arm, and focuses on the fact that she's here with him. That was enough reassurance enough for her.

She doesn't mask the gasp that escapes her lips as her eyes travel up and around the lavishly decorated ballroom. There were so many colours around, and yet complemented each very nicely. She starts to look around at the people, also very nicely dressed, masks donned on their faces. She looks up at the chandeliers, marveling at the sparkle they let out and the crystals that hung from it. The tables of food and drinks was tempting, there were a lot of food items she recognized and some that she was not familiar with. "It's quite something," Isla replied when Diavel said that Yulian outdid himself.

When Diavel leans towards her to say something she can't help but mirror his actions and leans towards him as well, to hear him better. Her hold around his arm tightens at the mention of getting separated. "Ah well, I'm stuck with you, I'm not letting go of your arm anytime soon," Isla laughs sheepishly but directs a nod at Lucian out of courtesy. She'd remember him, and it didn't seem like it was too difficult to remember him seeing as he had features that was reminiscent of Diavel.

"Um, so, what's the first order of things?" She didn't know what she was supposed to do nor what they were supposed to be doing. If there was some kind of opening act, or opening speech, or if they were celebrating something special. Just when Isla was about to ask if they could go take a look at the food--she had been curious about some of the food items. A lady speaks up, Isla didn't even notice that she'd approached them, as if she had stealthily done it.

"Diavel," Without any honorifics the exotic looking lady speaks up, addressing Isla's partner for the night. Isla couldn't quite see her face, what with the mask on, but the lady had an air of authority on her. As if she didn't quite care what other people said. "Strange of you to bring a companion" Isla could feel the lady's gaze dart towards her. The lady had not been afraid to approach them at all, nor talk to Diavel for that matter. She must have been in a position of power. As if hearing Isla's silent curiosity, the lady introduces her title to Isla, but not her name. "Duchess of Vesuvia," it was short and curt and then she turns to look at Diavel again. "A human, interesting," referring to Isla.

She said the word "human" as if it was something way below her. Like it was just prey and she was the predator. Isla could not say anything out of fear of saying the wrong thing and chose to remain quiet for now.
 
Diavel couldn't help but smile at how obviously Isla was awestruck by the everything around. Had they known each other a little longer, and had the circumstances been different...
Wouldn't he be doubting himself every second of the day fearing that the feeling of affection for her was rooted in her looking like Alice...
...Maybe he would've told her how the sparkling of the crystals reflecting in her eyes reminded him of the sun shining through the canopy of an autumnal forest. But he was overthinking as always, so kept it to himself. This was neither the right place nor the right time to push any boundaries.

Her comment woke him from his thoughts and made him playfully raise one eyebrow, though it was hidden behind the mask.
Like he had any kind of problem with her being with him all evening. Honestly, he hoped she'd be; next to him was the safest place here, and being as overprotective and paranoid as he was now and then...
"You won't regret it, I know the best spots here", he murmured conspiratorially.
"As for the boring parts of the evening-", he added with a half serious eye roll "unless something out of the ordinary comes up it will just be the annual speech. We're celebrating the day the war ended. It's a happy occasion especially for Irewood and Athera. For Sigrid and Vesuvia... Not so much... They're always a little irritable around this time."

Speaking of irritable vampires-
Like a cat sneaking up on its prey Duchess Mora had appeared out of the crowd and planted herself in front of them, pointedly treating Isla like a lesser.
A short, sharp sign escaped Diavel before he slapped an obviously faked smile on.
His entire self changed to express one message so very clearly- We haven't even talked an entire sentence and I'm already so done with your shit.
Partly to provoke Mora, but also to give Isla a sense of security and show loyalty, he moved his arm she had been holding on to to hold her hand firmly, radiating stubborn solidarity and protectiveness.
"Mora."
His voice could've made hell freeze over.
"I know the traditions of your lands are rather... antiquated, but you're on my territory right now, so I expect you to conform to our local customs and show some respect."
It was moments like these that revealed how he had apparently mastered the art of making insults sound polite.

Not giving another heck about the Duchess of Vesuvia, Diavel turned to Isla with an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry about that. I just hope some arrogant vampires won't spoil this evening for you... Would you like something to drink? Check out the buffet?"
 
Isla couldn't help but glance at him. His whole demeanor seemed to have shifted and his tone was ice cold. Mora didn't seem that much fazed though, but there was curiosity that peeked through her mask when Diavel moves to grasp Isla's hand, which she, instinctively, squeezes back.

"Of course," Mora grins, as if a hidden agenda under her lips and stalks off with a last look at Isla. Isla let's out the breath she didnt know she was holding and turns to Diavel once again. "No, it's alright, I was just thinking if it was too gutsy to ask if she's never seen a human before," she smiles, "but I'll keep my neck out of trouble,"

His hand tangled around hers was a kind of comfort that one would look for on a cold winter night. It was warm and reassuring and for a moment she frankly didn't care how many more interesting characters commented about the obvious fact that she was a human. She decided to let herself relax and was bold enough to be the one to pull him towards the long table of food while questioning the whole thing. "Who's giving the speech?" genuinely curious about it as her head tilted while looking at the selection. She was a little confused what to pick, plus she didn't have such a big appetite.

She did grab herself something to drink though, a glass of sparkly orange liquid, reminding her a little of that drink that Sol got her that one time. Actually, she'd better refrain from drinking whatever she laid eyes on. She had the tendency to get carried away with cocktails and mixes, though she wasn't sure if that was a thing in this world. "...Is there anything strong over here? Other than red wine? I think I might need it before doing all the dancing," it'd give her a little push. A shove, actually, if she went overboard. It's okay, she'd pace herself, she thought.

People were still filing in to the ballroom and it was still looking spacious. There was some soft music playing in the background, similar to the one that her and Diavel had been practicing with. They all sounded the same to her really. "Umm..." she suddenly starts, tugging a bit on his hand to get his attention. "Thanks for taking me, I guess I'm sort of happy to come with you?" Sort of was not what she had wanted to say. She wanted to say that she was delighted, and surprised, in a good way. "I mean, I'm just thankful overall." she finished, pertaining to the fact that Diavel had tried to take care of her in every possible way.

She wasn't completely oblivious to the fact that Diavel was a feared duke. She remembered his status, remembered Sol's advice and warning, remembered how a room full of people could be silenced just by his presence and also remembered his temper. She was aware, but she accepted that people just had their good and bad sides. From what she'd seen, he had a gentle soul--maybe only towards certain people--just that it'd been buried deep by centuries of being alone.
 
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As Diavel watched at Isla after her kind of...unusual declaration that she was thankful, kind of, I mean in general, he looked pretty weirded out, but, before saying anything, he went to pick up a margarita glass containing something clear and see-through, with sparkling, dark blue clouds floating lazily through the liquid.
After taking a sip he set the glass aside to pick something from the buffet that just seemed so unlike him; but munching on that cinnamon roll he looked so very content as he pushed his glass towards Isla.
"You know, you have the right to speak up, to me, to someone acting like a jerk, to anyone really. There's no need to let yourself be treated like a doormat, by anyone." Not wanting to dwell on too overly serious topics tonight, he just went on to answer her question about the drinks. "My personal recommendation would be a Phantasma", he noted. "White rum, blueberry, a little bit of coconut liquor and just a hint of blue ringed octopus poison. Minus the lethal components, of course. About the speech, this year it's-"

He was interrupted by a warm, male voice calling from the broad staircase leading to a balcony. Duke Lucian Aurelius stood there, a glass of wine in one hand and waiting for the crowd to silence.
Diavel instantly turned towards the younger vampire, a look somewhere between pride and amusement crossing his face.
"Dear guests, friends, visitors and family. Thank you all for attending our annual festival, I know some of you had a long travel. I've spotted the first few people going for the drinks, so I'd say, let's get the annual speech out of the way before some of us get wasted."
Silent chuckles emerged from the crowd, and even Diavel had to smirk. Lucian just was that kind of person who was still charming even when he was being flat out blunt.

"Firstly, to get this out of the way", the youngest of the dukes started, "I have an important, yet unpleasant matter to address. I have been talking to Duke Diavel these days and he told me that Irewood has found clear signs for a new outbreak of the Red Plague. We all know that this sickness spreads quickly and this time it seems to have evolved. We have reason to believe that vampires can be infected by ingesting infected blood. Athera has enough stocks stored to avoid the risk of infections that would come with fresher donations and will work closely with Irewood to ensure the safety of every vampire of our Covens and the humans of our duchies."
"Of course, the Aurelius vampires teaming up again", a vampire of Vesuvia grunted disdainfully. "If you're so fond of each other why don't you just merge your duchies, eh?"
Lucian just gave him a small, teasing smirk. "Why, to outvote Mora and Carden at conferences, of course", he said wryly.
Diavel, still with his drink in hand, was beaming with pride. "I taught him that!", he exclaimed before he lifted his glass. Lucian returned the gesture with a grin.

Noticing that he was still holding Isla's hand, hers looking so small wrapped in his long fingers, he could just barely keep himself from pulling back and apologizing. What was there even to apologize? If she would feel uncomfortable she'd let him know, right?
But how did she feel exactly? Nervous, perhaps, because of the many vampires around? Did she miss her world?
Or was she, just maybe, even a little happy here?
 
"You know, you have the right to speak up, to me, to someone acting like a jerk, to anyone really. There's no need to let yourself be treated like a doormat, by anyone."

Isla laughs a little, and rolls her eyes a bit. "She didn't really say anything offensive," she replies, referring to the earlier encounter with Duchess Mora. "...Her presence was a tad bit offensive though," she murmurs under her breath, not really wanting anyone nor him to hear. "In any case, if someone actually does say something that pisses me off I'll have some choice words to say," She finished the orange drink. She didn't know what it was but it tasted...well, like oranges and citrus fruits, but with a kick. Like a mimosa, but way stronger. Must be some of their weird ingredients again.

As he explains the speech her eyes travel up to the table of food again. She only had one free hand because her other was occupied, but she grabbed what looked to be some sort of cookie, but it was savory. She ate the whole thing, thinking that it wasn't bad and scanned the table for this Phantasma drink. She guessed it was white and blue, from Diavel's description, and found it way down the table. It's okay, she'd get it later, only because Lucian had started speaking. Instead, she grabs one that was a lovely pink colour, like carnations, then turns to face the staircase. She sipped a bit.

Tastes like...Brandy, cherry and grapefruit... and...

She couldn't place the other few ingredients, but focused on the speech instead. The Red Plague was mentioned after Lucian's quick joke. Isla had felt less alarmed over the week about the Red Plague. It just didn't seem like it was spreading that much, she daresay she forgot about it, but the image of a shaken up Diavel was the thing that had imprinted on her mind and so, she did still ruminate on it some nights, hoping that the spread would remain contained.

"Why, to outvote Mora and Carden at conferences, of course"

Oooohhhh burned...

A smirk crosses her face. That was amusing, only because she didn't see a lot of verbal confrontations in her world. People avoided confrontations like it was the plague. Granted that the speech wasn't really a confrontation but the fact that he had something to counter such a remark--taught by Diavel apparently,--was entertaining. At Diavel's proud exclamation that he had taught Lucian what to say, a few of the vampires turned to look at him--them. Their gazes fell on him first, and then travelled down to her, who was still silently taking sips of the drink, and then most of them turned around to focus on the speech yet again.

It took her a few seconds to get the feeling that she was still being watched. She scanned the crowd, everyone seemed to be very taken by Lucian. He had a sort of charm, she supposed, but as her head swerves to her right, there was a man, quite a few feet away from them who was still pointedly staring at her. They locked eyes for a moment and she could see there was some sort of... familiarity in his eyes. Like he recognized her but wasn't sure or was confused. Their staredown was longer than a normal passing of eyes or brief look. It was Isla who broke the gaze seconds later and averted her gaze towards the speech yet again. She didn't think much of it, a lot of them were probably curious about her so she passed it off as that.
 
"... I think in the end it is in the best interest of us all to say that, despite our differences and the fact that the war we led against each other will never be entirely forgotten, in times like these, when facing a common enemy, our greatest chances of survival lie in the cooperation of us all, as a nation. Vampires of Naphuron- let us celebrate this night as a time of reunion, accept our differences and grow beyond what the past made us become. I know our long lives make our society more rigid. Our state of being locks us in time and makes us resentful. And I know that my three and a half centuries of lifetime are a joke compared to the ages of some of you, but I'm sure that, if even a young vampire like me can forgive- don't forget why I joined your society in the first place- those older and wiser than me can do it, too."

The reactions to Lucian's speech were rather lukewarm, centuries old hate wouldn't just go away with a few, admittedly, not untrue words. He had said it himself, vampires weren't exactly known for their forgivingness.
But the speech seemed to have moved something in Diavel. He was absentmindedly staring into his drink, eyebrows knitted together in a thoughtful frown. "I guess I'll speak for all of us here if I say- how? There are things we don't know how to forgive...", he mumbled, most likely just thinking out loud, but, with their overly keen senses, most vampires in the room had probably heard him. An hint of pity mixed into Lucian's gaze for just a moment.
"Well then. I'm sure I gave you all a lot to think about, so I'll shut up and leave you alone now", he said with a small smile and disappeared into the crowd just to emerge from it a few moments later, next to Diavel. While most vampires went to pick something from the buffet or hit the dance floor, a few remained where they were, discussing silently.
Meanwhile Lucian watched silently as Diavel was brooding. He gave Isla a small, apologetic smile. "Hey, hi. Lucian. I'm happy to finally meet you, he's been talking about you nonstop." Diavel didn't react. "...Sorry, I think I just broke my foster father... Dia?" Still no reaction. "Ah dammit. Have you seen that happening before?", he asked, somehow sounding like it was something important to be aware of.

That was when Carden jumped into action. He wouldn't leave out a chance to shake the trust Athera and Irewood placed in him, after all. Taller than Diavel, with a broader build and his dark blonde hair in an up to date quiff cut, his costume just a black suit and a black mask, he looked way more modern than most here.
"Diavel, you didn't tell me you've met someone!"
He sounded absolutely honest, but that was nothing to be trusted in his case. "Come on, we've been like brothers at some point. Don't you think I'm happy for you that you've finally found a replacement for Ally?"

And that's when everything Carden had hoped for happened.
Engulfed in white flames, Diavel jumped at him, but was held back by Lucian, who stumbled and bumped into Isla, knocking her mask right off. Dia, who had lost control of his rage and fire by now, was building up more and more flames until Lucian and Yulian dragged him out and into the garden, leaving Carden alone with-... Alice?
Now that hadn't been part of his plan, her looking like-... Or was she actually...?
He didn't let the shock show, though, and just faked a perfect, apologetic look as he picked up her mask for her.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause... that", he sighed softly. "Though I guess I should've seen it coming. He's been blaming me for his own decisions for ages..."

A bright flash of white light suddenly came from the garden... Or what was left of it. The entire place was burned to the ground, an ashen, white desert, with plants, pavilions, even a couple of animals, charred carcasses covered in white ashes that rained from the sky like snow. And Diavel in the middle of all the destruction, like a demon bending over the painfully winding, burned bodies of Yulian and Lucian.
"The white lord", Carden sighed silently. "How awfully fitting... Dear, have you never wondered how he won a war against two of the oldest bloodlines in vampire history? He burned whole Naphuron to the ground."
Sighing sadly, Carden shook his head. "So many deaths... Entire families wiped out just for his personal revenge. Just because he thought it was me who killed his wife, because she chose him over me... How often did I tell him that it was a group of hunters... He never believed me. Instead he impaled my father. His entire war was based on an assumption and his inability to control his anger... What a waste of an incredible talent as his..."
 
"I guess I'll speak for all of us here if I say- how? There are things we don't know how to forgive..."

Isla's gaze moves towards the companion next to her, who seemed to be lost in thought, swirling his drink and looking down at it. She was silent for a few moments, not really aware of what he was thinking about, and then she'd move her hand to try and touch his arm, gently shake him out of it, tell him a joke of some sort when--

"Hey, hi. Lucian. I'm happy to finally meet you, he's been talking about you nonstop."

Isla's hand jerks back towards herself as Lucian greets her. She manages a small smile and a small chuckle at his statement that Diavel's apparently been talking about her nonstop. She didn't know about that.

"...Sorry, I think I just broke my foster father... Dia? Ah dammit. Have you seen that happening before?"

She'd again been about to call out his name and possibly ask him to dance, just to get his mind off things, but the chaos started from there, when another man came and spoke, effectively provoking Diavel. The white burst of flames was reminiscent to what she experienced when she'd walk into his room that day, mask not on. But this. This was massive, like magma suddenly spewing out from a sleeping volcano. The domino of events led her to get shoved a little out of the way, the sudden movement knocking her mask off of her face and clattering to the ground. But Isla picked herself right up to turn and watch with a worried expression on her face, Yulian and Lucian drag Diavel away.

A replacement... for Ally?

She thinks back to the words of the man standing behind her, the man was saying something else but she was too focused on watching from afar what was happening to Diavel and, in another moment, her eyes shut at the blinding white light from the garden. She couldn't peel her eyes away, much like that time he stood in the room, his whole face exposed in front of her. She didn't know how to move but this time the horror she felt was intensified. Though she was not in the way of his wrath like last time she saw what he could do in such a short amount of time, and it looked as if he didn't pay any heed to who he was with. Yulian and Lucian were having a bit of a tough time with him, it seemed.

Aren't they... his friends?


"The white lord, How awfully fitting... Dear, have you never wondered how he won a war against two of the oldest bloodlines in vampire history? He burned whole Naphuron to the ground. So many deaths... Entire families wiped out just for his personal revenge. Just because he thought it was me who killed his wife, because she chose him over me... How often did I tell him that it was a group of hunters... He never believed me. Instead he impaled my father. His entire war was based on an assumption and his inability to control his anger... What a waste of an incredible talent as his..."

Having that explanation as a background to the destruction she was watching was not pleasant. At all. The garden was only separated from the ballroom by doors that led out to it. They were glass doors littered with intricate swirled designs and so Isla could not see everything that was happening, but, she could see enough. She slowly turns towards Carden though, still not knowing exactly who he was. She then realizes her mask is off but in a daze, she doesn't even quite care. She takes the mask from Carden with a small thanks, eyes averted to the ground, mulling over what the man had just said.

I don't know... what his past is.

Unconsciously she grips the mask tighter, not bothering to put it back on, but she looks up at Carden with a somewhat confused gaze on her face. "...Yes, he has a temper," Temper was an understatement. "...but, you knew that what you said would provoke him, didn't you?" Because there was no genuine concern in this man's voice, there was no worry over what was happening to Dia, not like Lucian, who had immediately approached Diavel and was worried about his non-response. Carden had just continued to list and drag out Diavel's mistakes in front of her, and for what purpose, really? To scare her?

But even then... I don't think I can leave him like that... Would he get angry at me? Because he doesn't want me to see him like that or... Or is he struggling too?

"I guess I'll speak for all of us here if I say- how? There are things we don't know how to forgive..."

Isla leaves her mask on the buffet table, it would just be in her way, and looked straight at Carden. "...I can decide by myself what kind of person he is," steps back, "Excuse me," before turning to fast walk towards the garden--it was hard with that dress. She was terrified and she was sure that it wasn't her brain nor her heart that had forced her to move. It was just pure adrenaline and she completely had no idea what she was doing. She touched the door handle to the garden lightly, wondering if it would burn her but the temperature was normal and so she welcomed herself out, only to be hit by a very hot wind, causing her to recoil her head away. When it died down, she moved outside only a step, and called out to him. "Dia!" It felt like a sauna out there, if not even more intense.

Can he even hear me through all of that...rage? Does he even know it's me? Would he burn me alive too?

She knew how stupid it was, but she also knew how stubborn she was. She'd set her mind to it, and that was what she wanted to do. How could she stay inside and have a normal conversation with someone when the garden was being decimated? She was beyond the realm of scared, there were no words to describe how much the tremble in her hands was because she was shocked and appalled.
 

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