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Fantasy The Five Kingdoms - The Fall of Sarthenfall - Ic

What do you want for Sarthenfall Ch. 2?

  • 2nd generation!

    Votes: 3 42.9%
  • I’m not ready to let go of my original OC just yet... (stick with current characters)

    Votes: 3 42.9%
  • Bitch I ain’t sticking around for Ch. 2 HA

    Votes: 1 14.3%
  • And...I want a female antagonist this time

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • And...I want another male antagonist

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • BOOOOOTH! LETS HAVE 2

    Votes: 5 71.4%
  • Prequel about the original five hero’s!

    Votes: 2 28.6%
  • Just...no. No Sarthenfall 2. This is just awful.

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • Total voters
    7
  • Poll closed .
OOC
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Characters
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Lore
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Other
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"OI hands off the sword. If you are just here to borrow you don't need a sword right? Or are you bullshitting me? Because if it's the latter this thing can go right through armor! And I will not hesitate to fire it!" Priscilla was in fight mode at this point. And she was not going to backdown until the other woman dropped her sword. "Just put the weapon down and I'll put mine down!" Priscilla made her demand clear. And she was hoping this other person had the sense of making it easier for the both of them.

NinjaGirlGamer NinjaGirlGamer
 
Except Ivanna didn’t always go the easy route, she simply laughed at the boldness of the woman “Bold of you to assume that gun is faster than my sword” Ivanna places her hand on the sword handle “I don’t like objects pointed at me. You either put the gun down first and I’ll put down my weapon or By the time you shoot your head will fly off that skinny body. Now what’s it going to be?”

Ivanna looked at the unconscious Ray “I think us bickering over guns and swords is not helping your friend over there. Now make this easier and hand me the damn horse.”

Bakuyoshi Bakuyoshi
 
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Baxter Callahan

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The rebel leader looked at Angelo nodding in both thanks for overseeing his son and understanding the mercenary's cover up. He as well as Aria were the only two till now who knew about . . Angie. Fortunately, it didn't take too long for that mercenary to catch up with things anyway. "How about you take a look around?" Baxter suggested bending down to his son's height. Clyde spontaneously threw his arms around his father silenced by a mixture of emotions. No matter how much the boy wanted to ask all his questions, for some reason Clyde just couldn't let it all out. Once the kid pulled away, he ran off to explore the abandoned castle.

Baxter could have sworn he heard a growl causing him place his focus on no one other than Azalea. In which case, he went over and lightly held her shoulder knowing well that at any moment she might attempt to rip Nathaniel into pieces. "General, I suggest you locate your quarters before they are taken," Baxter logically mentioned feeling like the guy was intentionally prodding the princess, "Station your guards first."

Baxter didn't speak or move further until Nathaniel left the area. "Despite the cold weather all the heat still manages to stay in your head," He slightly smiled at the princess before lifting his hand from her shoulder.

"How are all of you physically?" The leader questioned shifting his gaze to the rest of the group he summoned for immediate attention. A few sounds from the more injured survivors shuffling in were mostly white noise around them. Bax merely gestured for those who approached him to head off to the other side of the throne room where some of the medics were ready to assist. "Swallow your pride. If you require physical assistance, let me know," He paused looking each person in the eye. It wouldn't be tough, but illogical for any of them to resist assistance if they were in serious pain.

"As some of you know, Raymond is no longer with us," Baxter started folding his hands together behind his back. He kept a strong stance during it all to physically remind himself about his role in the rebellion. "I would rather get your hopes down than up in terms of his survival," He said glancing around checking if Angelo would join them any time soon. True much was happening back in the tunnel, but that didn't mean that Baxter didn't notice the tension between Cale and Angelo. It was easy to spot an argument especially when two people who often spent time together suddenly found themselves in opposite sides of a tunnel.

"Whether or not you are a royal use your brain and have this message apply to you," His gaze sternly planted itself on random members in the group, "Whatever royal status you hold, wherever you came from and whoever you encountered along the way were never your choice." Baxter lifted his hand gesturing to their surroundings, "Yet these given circumstances were sent to us by the gods because they knew that we could handle them. If anyone else was in your shoes . . they would have never lived up to you."

The rebel leader took a deep breath softening his often sharp gaze on the group. Calmly moving a hand down his face, Baxter continued, "I understand the anxiety, aggression and confusion in you all. Believe me. But now is not the time to let it all out. Not in front of others, not toward each other, and most importantly not against ourselves during this recovery from chaos." A quick pause followed shortly after as the rebel leader himself started to feel down. Naturally his face didn't show it, but Baxter's eyes. Those blue eyes just gave it away. His brother's death was just starting to hit him. "We all rest tonight. Our conditioned guards will be on duty," Bax turned walking away from the rest of the group to look for the spare bandages.

Then, he paused in his footsteps and turned his head off to the side. "If you need someone to talk to . . ," He hesitated a bit knowing that what he would say next was out of character, " . . I will make myself available." He was usually open to talk to; however, letting himself say the words was different and this time he implied the message as a friend rather than their leader. What kind of leader would he be if he didn't . . emotionally hear them out anyway? Regardless of whether anyone had a secret or feeling to share he had to do this especially during this time.

Without heeding much more attention to the group, Baxter moved himself down to the other side of the throne room picking up a bandage in the process and walking around a table to help a medic.

Bakuyoshi Bakuyoshi Blackrose7 Blackrose7 Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow SandraDeelightful SandraDeelightful explosiveKitten explosiveKitten
 
"Well shit, your right. Can't argue with a seasoned warrior." Priscilla withdrew her weapon to make sure they were on the same page "Doesn't mean I have to like it but I got to get this guy to that castle. And horseback is not an option for me anymore to get him there." She went over to Raymond and tried her best to pick him up. She had no idea how long it would be on foot. Especially with the extra weight on her. But then she slowly thought of something. There was a much stronger looking person in the area. And maybe she could appeal to her.

"If I may ask by some chance are you looking for the rebellion? Because I might so happen to know where it is. This guy, Raymond knows where they are at. I need to get there to let them know of the situation in the kingdoms. And who knows there might be something in it for you if you bring me and him there. Maybe a place to stay and not starve, or gold." Priscilla was honestly hoping this other person would be coaxed into helping her and Raymond. She only had about 3 or so gold pieces but maybe there were other things she could offer at that point if the warrior agrees.

NinjaGirlGamer NinjaGirlGamer
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"I would be more so asking that of you Bax. Raymond was a friend to all of us. He was Azaleas pal, your brother, my partner. I don't think any of us are stinging as bad as you are right now. I honestly pray he isn't dead but if so as I said in the cave, Soris will pay, those who follow him will pay. In the end he has made it clear to us there will be blood. But at the moment in our condition we can't afford to have any infighting. That is a two front war waiting to happen and that will be a matter of if we kill each other or Soris kills us."

But for a moment Cale then looked to Azalea "And I can expect you have your reasons to keep what happened between you and Soris a secret. I won't hate you for it. By his mannerisms he's a manipulator. Something all to common in my line of work. They get you to like them and when the timing is just right they throw you under the train and damn you for some nonexistent betrayal. There may be rumors and I know we don't get along but I am willing to understand your situation as best as I can. And I know that may not mean much given it is coming from me. I just don't know what it is even like to be a prince. I was an engineer long before I was a prince." Cale went silent trying to stop his babbling

"Er that is all I have to say. Sorry if it's not much"

Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow Xanto Xanto Blackrose7 Blackrose7 SandraDeelightful SandraDeelightful
 
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Azalea Eve Windfore

She had been so locked in her heated glare with Nathanial, she hadn’t noticed Baxter come up until his hand was on her shoulder, which was a good thing too, considering she was about to rip his face off with her bare hands.

Nathanial nodded firmly at Baxter as he told him to station his men, his face set in stone once more as he briskly replied, “Already done. The soldiers have been assigned to their placements.”

Azalea snorted, “Right. Because that saved our asses two hours ago.” Her voice thick with sarcasm as she referred to the men that were supposedly stationed at the last encampment. The men that were supposed to warn them in case of an attack, and never showed up.

Nathanial shot her a level eyed, stony glare before stalking off under her heater gaze, likely to go attend other “duties”.

She gave another snort at Baxter’s comment about her temper, “I wanted to knock his block off, the rotter.” She muttered dryly, though a hint of an amused smirk played at her lips.

Azalea allowed herself to sink to the floor, her back sliding against the pillar as Baxter asked how they all felt physically. Aria gave her a glance, in which she avoided by looking at the more heavily injured people being rushed in.

Like I’m about to pass out, Azalea thought dryly, though decided not to voice her own intense pain, despite Baxter declaring to push aside pride, in which Aria shot her a pointed look, recieving a scowl from Azalea in return.


Pride that was definitely in the way, she knew, but voicing her pain would only bring her sympathy. Magical injuries, the medics couldn’t exactly help with. But she couldn’t rest up either. Not with everything that had to be done.

Another thorn in her side Soris stuck her with before he boffed off to go ruin some more lives, she thought bitterly, before turning her attention to Baxter.


Azalea clenched her fists as Baxter mentioned Raymond’s demise, feeling another stab of pain in her heart, accompanied by a pang of guilt. She should’ve done more...anything.

She wished she could’ve taken Baxter’s words to fault but she couldn’t. Soris was an encounter, something she should’ve stopped long before it got to that point. And it was her fault she escaped. It was her responsibility to end him.

That, and the gods were assholes, she thought, outwardly scowling at Baxter’s words for a brief moment. The gods clearly didn’t exist or had a cruel sense of humor. Because she couldn’t do this. Not for much longer.

Azalea’s features softened as she took in Baxter’s softened features. The only vulnerability she’d ever seen of the usually firm, brooding man. His words rang true. She had to be stronger than this. They did. Picking fights and breaking down wasn’t helping anything. It pained her further to see Baxter’s own grief reflecting in his vivid gaze.

Something ate at her as she took in his features, realizing her own pale, sickly features had shifted to concern, she glanced at the cold floor underneath her, glad to be sitting and able to distract herself.

The mention of rest nearly made her sleep on the floor then and there at the mere mention of it, glad she was done for the day, and wishing she could be done for much longer.

What surprised her even further, was his offer of...emotional support? Yikes. The man must of lost his head in the battle! He was going through enough to not have to offer emotional support.

Cale spoke, thankfully, considering she found herself rather speechless. Azalea glanced up from the floor as he addressed her. She pinched her lips thinly together in what looked like anger. Soris had caught her in a web before she knew it, that was true. But not her reasons for not being able to speak of it. But what angered her, was what people had already begun to assume what happened between her and Soris.

Her insides twisted as she watched Baxter walk off. She had to say, well, something. Needed to.

She looked sharply at Cale and the rest of the group, her eyes flaring a bright yellow.

“We weren’t lovers. If that’s what you all think,” Azalea blurted bluntly, her tone sharper than she intended as she looked at Cale, her eyes angry, but not towards him, but towards their whole, rotten situation. Towards Soris. “Never lovers,” Azalea said, blanching before she continued on, “It wasn’t that I chose not to tell you. I couldn’t. Before I knew...who he was. Me and my siblings swore an oath. On silver.” She stopped, staring hard at the ground. “I’ll tell you all what that means tomarrow. I’ll tell you everything.” She said, her anger diminishing into weariness, not caring if they knew what swearing in silver was. It wouldn’t be surprising if they didn’t. It was a closely guarded secret mainly amoung the royal families. From what her father told her.


She contemplated sleeping right there on the floor for a moment as she watched Aria begin to walk off before letting an irritanted sigh escape her lips.

“Aria,” she called exasperatedly her voice coming out weaker than she’d wanted, “I don’t think I can stand on my own.” She said, her cheeks flushing in shame at her wounded pride, asking for help never being her greatest strength.

Aria helped her with a small, quiet chuckle, still weighed down likely by the death of Raymond. Her hand looped around her waist and under her arm, before helping Azalea stand. She bit down on a cry of pain as she moved once more, her vision swimming with colors and blurs that caused her to sway on her feet.

Aria gave her a concerned look as she tried to regain her footing before focusing her half blurry vision on Baxter. “I need to talk to him first.” She stated, feeling ill suddenly the longer she was up and about.

Her insides twisted as she approached Baxter, never really quite good at comforting others other than cracking a joke or too to lighten the mood. “Bax,” She said, looking uncomfortable and oddly sheepish as she spoke, “I’m sorry. We lost a friend...but you lost a brother. I get it, bloody hell I lost more siblings than you could count to him.” She said tiredly, her yellow-green eyes solemn and guilty as she looked at him. “We’re here for you. If you need to talk...I’ll...be around,” She finished lamely, looking as uncomfortable as ever with her odd gesture of weakness and kindness, Azalea turned and shuffled off, leaning on Aria for support as they made they’re way to find her temporary quarters.


Xanto Xanto Bakuyoshi Bakuyoshi SandraDeelightful SandraDeelightful Blackrose7 Blackrose7

 
Baxter Callahan

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Baxter was carefully taking a survivor's wounded arm after it was cleaned by a medic, and wrapping a bandage around it when Cale decided to speak up from the other side of the throne room just so the rebel leader could hear. It was somewhat refreshing for Cale not to ramble on. In return, the usually silent man nodded his head before diverting his attention back to the damaged survivor.

"Lifting your arm a bit," Baxter notified the person slowly lifting the man's arm up. It was apparent that the injured victim was in utter pain. A cut would be an understatement. He was impaled by a piece of furniture in his upper arm by a Shade. Bax didn't ask how though seeing that they didn't need any more dark thoughts entering their space. Fortunately, the medic already removed the wooden piece and placed it away from the man to see.

It didn't take long for Azalea to finally speak up about the situation. It was something Baxter intended on meeting with her later about especially since she seemed to know a lot more about Soris and the Shades than the rest of them did. Though he wasn't next to her, Baxter could hear quite enough to put most of Azalea's message together. What she said next only confused the man though. Silver apparently was the reason why Azalea was incapable of telling them some sort of truth . . or at least that was how Baxter understood her words.

Tomorrow was a good day to find out all that she meant though. If anything, she wasn't looking as lively as she usually did. Baxter found himself glancing at the princess right on time to see Aria helping her up. "Bite down," He said in a low voice moving his gaze to the next person with a slash right across their cheek. His hand carefully wrapped the bandage at an angle so that it would stay firm on their wound.

Within a few moments, Azalea's voice was closer than he remembered. The sound of her trying to comfort him was almost as unique as him offering his own emotional support. In which case, Bax immediately finished the wrap so he could give his undivided attention to the princess. He later nodded watching her painfully go off with Aria. "Left wing," He paused, "There should be enough connected rooms for you and your group there."

As soon as the cousins were out of earshot, Bax looked around for someone he knew would be able to reach Azalea and help her out when Aria wasn't around. "Annabel," Baxter called for the attention of the Demonic Velvet gang leader. She was the only other openly female person from their group who probably wasn't new to interacting with injured people. Bax waited until they were side by side until he spoke in a low voice, "Look for your gang's quarters by their's and help Azalea get around."

"Cale," Baxter summoned shortly after. He chose this time to walk a few steps meeting the prince in the middle of the throne room, "I am unaware about your situation with Angelo, but remember that we all just came from life or death. I guarantee that Angelo had only the best intentions in mind for you throughout the whole event . . he wouldn't be too bad to have as a future right hand man."

Bakuyoshi Bakuyoshi Blackrose7 Blackrose7 Ms. Sparrow Ms. Sparrow SandraDeelightful SandraDeelightful explosiveKitten explosiveKitten
 
Ivanna raised her eyebrow at the information she was just told. Location of the rebellion? Of course she traveled around enough to know bits and pieces of what the rebellion is all about. However she wasn’t the type of person to join anything. Not for royalty or a small resistance. “I’m not the one to join some silly rebellion”

In the back of her mind though, something was tugging at her to at least help. All she had to do was get them to the castle and then take the horse, Easy right? Ivanna pondered for a minute before finally speaking “Alright fine. I’ll help your friend get to that castle. However I’m still taking the horse then leaving for good” She walked over to Raymond who was still faced down on the ground. One of the memebers of the rebellion huh, he doesn’t look like much.

Ivanna picked him up with a little struggle before putting him on the horse. Strapping him tight so he doesn’t fall off. “Get on the horse and I’ll guide us to the castle on foot” talking directly to Priscilla.

Bakuyoshi Bakuyoshi
 
Slowly, she shed her armor in the privacy of her new “personal quarters”.

It was modest- Stone walls, a cot that had been rolled in ages ago, a small table in the corner with a chair, he’ll, there was even an ancient bookshelf in here piled high with dusty ancient books. Unfortunately the text in them was so faded that they mostly unreadable. Maybe one day she’d try to flip through and decipher it, but that’s is certainly not today.

No, today she had a very pressing matter to deal with. After stripping her armor off, she stripped off her shirt, grabbed the spare cloth she had managed to scrounge up, along with the bucket of water, and began to clean herself off. Though honestly, it was kind of awkward and cumbersome, considering the whole shoulder thing. She had to awkwardly work with her left arm, around her head. You try doing that.

Once convinced she had sufficiently cleaned herself off, the stinging process of cleaning her wound began. It was painful and stung like a bitch, but she bite into the handle of her trusty knife to keep from screaming outright during the process.

Once that was done, she pressed absorbent cloth to the open wounds and began to bandage herself up. It was, once again, a long and awkward process involving the weird weaving of limbs around her shoulder while trying to keep the bloody gauze from falling out of place and shifting around, nobody should ever be forced to deal with this on their own. Fortunately, Angie wa pretty adept at doing things solo, so here she was.

Finally bandaged up, Angie looked at the bottle of alcohol she used to disinfect her wounds, considered chugging it, before coming to the concensus that getting absolutely plastered would in no way help her situation, so reluctantly she left the bottle alone and opted to walk over to her pile of armor and examine it.

Carefully, she picked up her breastplate and looked at the bite that punched through the shoulder. Dried blood was still there on the shiny metal, taunting her as she glared at it.

“... how did that shade just punch through metal armor like it was nothing? ... where am I gonna get this repaired? ... who could even repair it? Can it be repaired?”
 
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Azalea Eve Windfore

Following Baxter’s instructions, Aria led Azalea to a room in the left wing.

“Farther,” Azalea said hoarsely, receiving another annoyed glance from Aria. “I’m a light sleeper! I want to be away from all of you noisy bludgers.” She lied indignantly as they passed another room in the left wing.

And they kept passing until they were at the farthest wing down the hall.

The room was cold, with a cot in the corner, and an old desk that sat in front of the small diamond window that looked out across more snowy mountains in the distance. A pang of longing pierced her heart, longing for her own castle and room once more.

Aria helped her into her cot before being shooed away, Azalea insisting she didn’t need to be pampered or anything of the sort. In truth, she wanted to be alone with her thoughts for once.

Sleep did not come easily, not for what seemed like hours as she tossed and turned in her bed, the pain keeping her away with every movement. Both Raymond and Soris’s faces appeared every time she closed her eyes.

Wincing as she sat up, Azalea swung her legs over the cot until her feet hit the cold, stone ground, sending shivers up her spine. She reached out and flicked on the oil lamp that had been set on the desk, before pulling the leather journal out from underneath her leather vest.

She stared at the ancient leather hard in the light, sending a pang of loss through her, remembering that it was just this morning she and Raymond had stolen it. Now he was dead.

The journal smashed against the opposite wall as she threw it in a rage, burying her face in her hands and she bit down a silent scream, trying to bury the overwhelming grief that threatened to undo her once more.

And she wished. Wished she could take it all back. Wished she could have stoped Soris before anything had begun.

~~
The sword was the only magic thing left, she decided the night after her experience in the pavilion, her stomach sick as she thought of Ana’s soul, captured and held by Soris.

At least, that she knew of. Azalea’s mind whirred. Somehow it was magic. How, she did not know, but surely it had unmagicked the palace those hundreds of years ago, at the hand of her ancestor, and first king of Calore. It had bound Soris. And she had broken it earlier this year, right around when Soris appeared. She’d broken it when trying to teach the girls a reel in the gallery, and Isis had smacked right into the glass display, causing it to fall and clatter unto the ground, earning a crack in its old iron blade.

Azalea took her shawl from the peg by the door and slipped into the cold hall. She ran down the stairs, bare feet pattering against the marble floor, turning the corner into the portrait gallery. Azalea found her way to the sword display in the dim lighting. She lifted the glass case from it, retrieving the sword to see if she could study from it, or if the king was still awake, ask about it.

After discovering the kitchen empty, Azalea arrived at the library, panting. She didn’t bother to knock, late as it was, but instead shoved the door open. The darkness surprised her; she turned up the nearest lamp, and discovered the King lying on the sofa near the piano, underneath an old blanket. He stirred as Azalea drew near.

“Sir! Sir, you—Do you sleep here every night?” Azalea frowned at the stiff, hard furniture. “That’s not bloody comfortable.”

The King brought his arm over his eyes protectively as Azalea turned up both the glass lamps on his desk.
“Azalea, really!”


“This is important,” said Azalea. Sword still in hand, she swept to him. “Sir, can this sword be...mended?”

The King roused, not in good humor at seeing Azalea with the sword.

“Great…waistcoats, Azalea,” he said. “That is governmental property! Take it back to the gallery, at once.”

“Sir, please,” said Azalea, on the verge of tears. “Can it be mended? Can you fix the magic in it? How is it even magic? Please!”
Something in the King softened. Perhaps it was Azalea’s desperate eyes. He exhaled, rubbed his face, and stood slowly.

“Come along,” he said. “It is time you knew.”

She shivered and pulled her shawl tighter around herself when they entered the gallery; the King stirred up the hearth beneath the wall of portraits.
“Well,” he said. He set the sword on the red velvet of the pedestal and lifted the glass case back over it. He looked worn and tired but had enough firmness in him that his shoulders remained straight and solid, nothing that hadn’t been there until Ana’s death, and she knew her aunts death weighed heavily on him. He was made of starch and steel it seemed. “It is something that only the royal family, or the other kingdoms know,” he said. “It is not generally spoken of.”

“It’s magic, though?” Azalea pressed.

“No,” said the King. “And yes.”

Azalea frowned impatiently and took a bite of her bread and cheese. They had taken a walk through the kitchen, where the King took a bit of bread and cheese wrapped in a cloth and gave it to Azalea. He now sat next to her, on one of the fine sofas by the mantel.

“Azalea, you know about Swearing on Silver. Do you not?”

A slight tingle rose in Azalea’s chest, and she thought of Ana’s necklace.

“I don’t think I do,” she said slowly, feeling her cheeks heat from embarrassment.

“Not fully. I-if you make a promise with silver, it helps you keep your oath? Just like if you…swear on blood…” Azalea stopped, shuddering at the thought of Soris drinking blood. The King looked at her with a measuring glance.

“Yes,” he said. “It is like the blood oath the Mad King made, before he was killed. But it is the full opposite. Just as strong, but with silver as the mediator.”

“And it makes the silver…a sort of magic?”

“Just so,” said the King. “But a much stronger magic than the common sort. Stronger than the magic of the passage, because it is sealed with your word. The people under the Mad King Soris had very little, but what silver they had they kept close. Wedding bands, family heirlooms, and such other things. They believed silver the purest sort of metal. It was with those things they made the sword and swore to protect their families and their country. We swear on it now, us and Delchistrier, and the other four kingdoms.”

“That can’t be right,” said Azalea. “If this were true, then Ana’s necklace would be magic. But it’s never unmagicked anything.“ Azalea arched a brow at the King for more answers.

The King stood and tended the fire with a poker, for it had started to die. “The sword has been sworn on for many years, by kings and ministers. As such, the magic in it runs deep. For those who have sworn on it. To our visitors and guests, and even you, it is only a sword. Even so, your necklace is magic—for you and you siblings, weak as it is. You cannot expect one promise—”

“Two,” said Azalea quickly. “Ana had me swear on it. Before…before she…died.” She turned her eyes to the bread in her lap, feeling silly for mentioning it at all.

The King was quiet for a while. He looked at the necklace she turned in her hands, the silver shimmering softly.

“I gave that necklace to your aunt,” he said. “As a birthday gift.”

Azalea pressed her lips together.

“What did you promise?” His voice was unnaturally vulnerable sounding.

Azalea traced the embroidered letters with her thumb.

“That…I would take care of my siblings,” she finally said.

There was a moment of silence, but not awkward silence.

“I’m not doing a very good job of it,” Azalea mumbled.

The King’s firm, heavy hand rested on Azalea’s shoulder. It was such an unexpected gesture of affection that it rendered Azalea speechless. The King removed it instantly, but his voice was gentle and soothing.

“You’ve done a fine job,” he said. “You cannot expect it to be as powerful as the sword. But I should think your necklace harbors a deep magic nonetheless. You have made it so.”

“Earlier this year,” said Azalea, “Isis broke the sword, at least in part. Would the magic be strong again, if it were fixed?”

“I expect not. It would have to be sworn on again, many more times after it was fixed,” said the King.
“Oh.” Any of keeping Soris locked away vanished, her chest sinking. She jumped when the King placed her shawl over her shoulders.

“It is late,” said the King. “I’ll stoke the fire in your room, if you like.”

“Sir,” said Azalea as he led her out of the gallery, “the blood oath the Mad King made—to not die until he killed the Five…didn’t Raf the First die of old age?”

“Not to die until he killed the bloodline of the Five I believe it was. No, he unfortunately lived to be a great old age.”

“Unfortunately?” said Azalea, arching an eyebrow.

The King sucked in his cheeks, as though he hated to tell her. In the faint light, he looked like the first king’s portrait hanging on the gallery wall behind him; same jaw, light-red hair, close-trimmed beard.
“He went mad,” said the King. “Our first king. It is…a bit of a family secret. He and the Five defeated the Mad King, unmagicked the palace with the sword, but—” The King shifted. “He thought the Mad King was still here. In the palace.”

The blood drained from Azalea’s face, and suddenly it was a great effort to still keep the same curious expression on her features.

“He believed the Mad King’s essence, or something of the like, still existed, in the foundation or paneling or such. It is silly, of course, to consider it now. Even so, when he passed the title of regent to his son, Raf the Second, he fell into madness. He wandered the halls at night, certain the Mad King would return to murder—”
“The Regent! The King!” Azalea cried. “That would be you!” Now she knew. Knew why Soris wanted his freedom.

“Azalea, it was years ago! Your skin—it is only a story!” The King’s brows furrowed in concern.

“The first king! He was telling the—”

Azalea was stunned.

When she was seven, she had been climbing the palace walls and slipped, when she fell. It left a hollow space of nothing, and she heaved for air to fill it. This was much the same, but with a great rush of hard prickles. It took her breath away and choked her throat, wiping the air from her lungs. A great wave of icy tingles flushed to her fingertips and feet, and up to her head. She gasped. The oath!

And it seemed the Oath would not let her tell her tale. Not a peep. Not now.

Not ever.
~~


She pulled her head from her hands, remembering the memory fondly, despite the oath nearly making her pass out that night, it had brought some good. The King—no, her father, had read to them that night after bringing Azalea back to the room all her siblings and herself shared, he’d even gone so far as to read to them a bedtime story. Something only Ana had done.

She stared at the flame in the oil lamp. She hadn’t gotten to say...many things. To any of them. Azalea pinched her lips thinly together, suppressing her emotions. She had to be strong.

Flicking off the oil lamp, she layed back on the cot with a pained groan, staring up at the ceiling in the dark, longing for the company of her deceased sisters. Azalea glared up at the ceiling as a new thought entered her mind.

They were so screwed.



 
"I had no intentions of blowing up like I did. I just felt he robbed me of a chance to help. And well, it was something special to me. It all just rushed out. It felt like I was shoved back by all of that anger. I want to apologize, I just don't know how to. I'll try and sleep on it. Take care of yourself and get some sleep. I think we all need it. I'll help the guards out with watches."

Cale walked out. He looked around for a room to call his own. Eventually he found a room, probably were weapons were made. Hardly anything was left except for the long abandoned forge. "Raymond would've loved this. God who on earth are they going to pair me up with?"

As Cale went to his area of the room he got the only schematic he could save from the raid. "The Automatic Crossbow, this could help with fighting the shades. Wait what id that measurement read?" Cale reached in a pocket to get his glasses when he felt a little bit of pain.

"Oh no. Nononono. That can't be right. I need my glasses! They can'tbe broken!" Cale slowly put his hand out of his pocket. The moment he opened it a bunch of little shards of glass fell out. His hand covered in little cuts. His glasses were broken. His only means of really reading was gone. Everything in his vision was blurred, and it wouldn't be fixed until he could find a means to get some new glasses.

"What the hell am I supposed to tell the others?"

-----------------------------

Priscilla went and followed everyone of the womens instructions. She was surprised that her plan had worked. She looked to the other female as she was giving more orders. "Thought she wanted the horse bad. Maybe survival makes you do weird things. I'm just praying that Raymond was right about this. What if the shades got to the new location? What if they were caught by the shades?"

Eventually the three arrived at a gate of some sort and much to Priscillas relief there were people. The guards let them through the gate at the sight of Raymond and had Priscilla and her 'friend' stick aside for a bit. Something about the higher ups coming to see them.

"So er guess we got in ok. Looks like Ray was right and we got this meeting to look forward too. So uh sorry about the threats. Been a little jumpy on this last stretch. Been getting attacked left and right by bandits since I got in the north. And you know I never asked your name or introduced myself. My names Priscilla. And thanks for the help with getting Raymond here. I doubt I could get him here on my own."

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Ivanna with her arms crossed looked at Priscilla “Name’s Ivanna, but just so we are clear, We are not “friends” and I’m not planning on sticking around.” She wasn’t really looking forward to this meeting nor did she have the patience for it.

Standing there in the cold at an abandoned castle, this is not what she was expecting on doing today. Everyday is always something new I guess. Ivanna examines the exterior of the castle walls from where she was standing. Looking at her surroundings was a habit, you can’t really trust anything you see sometimes.

Though, a question was nagging at her “Do you actually believe in the rebellion? I mean I heard some about it but..” She pauses for a minute “Do you think they would actually achieve something?”

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Priscilla paused at the question "The answer to that is more complicated then you would think. The first part is both yes and no, They may actually have some means to fight back. But at the same time... Look at their enemies, the shades are many. You take out a group of them and twice as many come to take their place. If I don't believe them I'd rather die swinging then under the rule of the shades. At least my death would mean something, right?"

She paused as she thought of an answer for the second part of the question. And the answer was complete blind faith. "If they were unable to achieve anything then how would they still be around? If they were incapable there would be nothing here for us to find. And to so many people that means a lot more then you could imagine. And... I got a family to avenge. As far as I'm concerned so long as I draw breath I will fight against them, rebellion or not." With the last bit she remembered the saying of her people. One that drove her all the way here. One that prevents her from going back.

"And there is a saying in Lorelthia. Forward, always forward. I've gotten this far, and I will never go back. Not until there is peace for it. When I come back I want to give my loved ones a proper send off. And let them know I avenged them."

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A lot of people would say phrases or some motivational speeches to Ivanna, the only person she ever took advice from was her uncle, mentor, and herself. However, What Priscilla just said stuck to her Avenging your family that made Ivanna start to question herself, what was she fighting for?

True, she had a lot of adventures, but did she ever find a place to belong? Hopping village to village, almost dying many times than she can count. “.....” There was silence in the snow and all around. Ivanna didn’t say anything else and just waited for whoever was coming to meet them.

Hopefully they would just get me a horse She huffed to see the cold breath come out like smoke. It was freezing and all this waiting was making her irritated. One can only hope I don’t have to fight nobody

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Baxter Callahan

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Baxter moved his hand gradually on top of the last seriously injured victim's bandage until it was flat with no sign of random spaces in between. "Rest up in the right wing. Your name will be taken in our roster," The rebel leader confirmed before tying the loose ends of the bandage together and sending the person off with a firm pat on the back. Although he was calm, some doubts were circling the man's own mind as he watched the victim limp away toward the wing filled with injured residents. . . Time to check rosters. Baxter thought to himself rubbing his hands against his face.

"Sir," A guard said shyly making his way over to Baxter, "Ah, we- the guards . . . well." "Roman, say it," Baxter muttered moving his hands away from his face to view the timid man. "Uh- Raymond is here," Roman blurted watching his leader's brows furrow in confusion. Did he hear that correctly? Goodness gracious! Of course Raymond survived the attack! -Or maybe he didn't and they all just found him? Either way, Baxter's cold eyes glinted with a bit of hope at the news especially once he snapped back to reality. "They are in the inner bailey," The guard continued just before he found himself following Baxter back out the throne room's doors.

"They?" The concerned older brother picked up his walking pace, maneuvering down the stairs much faster than usual until he swung open the castle's double doors himself faster than the stuttering guard could get the words out of his mouth. Baxter paused in silence moving his gaze from his unresponsive brother to the two women who apparently strapped Ray onto a horse. Even when Raymond was unconscious he managed to get himself into the most random situations. Regardless of whether the ladies would join the rebellion or not, Baxter swiftly walked over to the horse before unstrapping his brother. Despite Raymond's extremely calm outer appearance, there was no doubt that his body needed immediate medical attention. "Thank you both for bringing him here," The rebel leader glanced at both dark-haired women politely shaking their hands, "Baxter Callahan, rebellion leader." Roman was about to assist only to be stopped by Baxter's left-arm gesturing toward the castle, "Tell the royals that Raymond is here. Inform the medics to return to the throne room."

With a huff, the rebel leader heaved his younger brother onto his shoulder and began to make his way back inside only turning to look at the two ladies who continued to stand in the snow. "We are a welcoming rebellion. The least you can both do is join us for some warmth," He suggested with a raised brow holding back on small talk to speed up his brother's delivery. Bax didn't know Raymond's story, but he knew that his presence was a miracle. For that, he was grateful.

In no time, Baxter found himself laying Raymond onto a cot in the throne room and backing away letting the medics do their thing. It was a bit difficult to resist the temptation to assist Ray himself. Yet, he held back knowing that the most he could do was help wrap bandages. The three available medics tag teamed to remove Raymond's top layers of clothing revealing three deep cuts diagonally across his left pectoral. Looks like Ray wasn't untouched after all. Baxter's serious gaze briefly studied his younger brother's face filled with smudges as they took his vitals and mentioned that the smudges came from a fire.

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The moment Priscilla saw Baxter she was immediately smitten. He was handsome, strong. And looked to be a man of Craft "Come one Priscilla play it cool. Don't mess it up." She cleared her throat as though she was preparing for something. "Oh it was no problem Baxter. I was just on my way to your old base when I found a perfectly intact and admittedly good looking man. And me being the chivalrous engineer I am I assisted him. My partner here helped me get him here, without her I doubt I would've been able to get him here on time. Oh and my names Priscilla. Lorelthian engineer and one of the two creators of this."

She pulled out her version of the armorcracker. It was noticeably slimmer then Cales. His looked like a cannon while hers looked like some longer gun. "The best part, it's fires via air pressure. So kiss gunpowder goodbye... Unless you forget to pressurize it, you will be dead before you get it ready to fire. Which I did forget, last shot I used was on a shade." She was in her zone until Baxter rushed off. "I didn't scare em off with my explanations did I? Oh forget it we got the invite in. Let's get situated, no more bandits or wolves to worry about. Wait... that guy was the leader! I need to find him!" Priscilla rushed after Baxter. She had to tell him about everything.

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The leader came out and Ivanna didn’t have the same reaction like Priscilla, more like she wasn’t focused on his good looks. While she was babbling about her gun, the leader was more in tuned with getting the injured to safety. Ivanna saw Priscilla run off after him to the castle.

Well that was interesting. She looked at the horse on the side of the castle. The winds were picking up indicating this blizzard was getting stronger. There could be another town I could stay at but, she looked out at the snowy wilderness. The next town probably could be miles, and she would have bandits and wolves to look forward to.

Ivanna had to decide, whether to just grab the horse and go or stay in the castle for a while before leaving. “Screw it” She muttered, as she goes into the castle. Now where is the damn fireplace.

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Angie was making her way back to the main hall to find Baxter when the aforementioned man rushed by, seemingly very intent on something in the opposite direction.

She was about to stop him, when she noticed someone pursuing him. A young woman, who was practically running after Baxter. This switched on Angie’s protector intincts and made her quickly step in the way of this young woman, arms crossed and glaring. Even without all the armor, Angelo was an intimidating young man, and Angelique was an even more intimidating young woman.

“Who are you? For what reason are you chasing after Baxter?” She asked, preparing to launch into a whole line of questioning, when her eyes connected with the Armorcracker in Priscilla’s possession. Her eyes widened, and her stared for a moment, before very suddenly reaching over and grabbing Priscilla's forearm, raising the Armorcracker up to inspect it further, not caring whether the young woman protested or not.

Dots were connecting in the young woman’s head and realization dawned on her swiftly. She blinked at Priscilla, then tugged on her arm. “Come with me. Now.”

Once again, not waiting for a response, Angie dragged this poor unsuspecting woman through the castle, to the only place Angie could think that Cale would go- the forge. She knew there had to be one in here, and when she’s arrived, she quickly rapped her knuckles against the doo (yes, with her bad arm) and shouted, “CALE? Cale, I know you’re in there! ... Your Highness, you really want to see this!”

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"Oi what the hell is your problem! Unhand me brute! Help me someone!" Priscilla shouted as the knight dragged her throughout the castle. What did he want with her. Then he started saying weird stuff about Cale. "You better start talking fast! I know for a fact Cale is dead. If this is an out of season joke I'm hitting you were the sun don't shine! And I won a tavern brawl once so don't think I can't!" The knight had not only shouted her brothers name but also called him a term meant for royalty. "Buddy I take it back, if this is a lie you better run. I'll even give you a timer."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Cale was busy with his ordeal of limited eyesight when he heard loud knocking. 'It's unlocked!" He shouted as he tried to get himself into a more easyoing position,trying to hide his distress. He swore he heard a familiar voice. But his current mental state made it hard to discern who it was.He leaned over the crossbow schematic as though examining it intently. As he usually would when he was working.

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“Oh, girly, don’t waste your energy trying to hit me.” She snapped at Priscilla, glaring for a moment before she threw open the door and stepped across the the threshold, dragging Priscilla right along with her. “Would only end badly for one of us, and I certainly don’t mean me.”

“Oooh? A tavern brawl? Hooooow impressive. I’m so scared, just shaking in my breeches.” Angie sarcastically stated, her expression neutral as she tossed Priscilla into the room casually, making sure that the two could plainly see each other, at which point the young woman settled against the wall with her arms crossed and a slightly sour expression.

“Hey, your royal nervousness, turn around before your surprise decides to actually attack me.”

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Ivanna finds the fireplace to warm herself. Rubbing her hands together to gain heat. She’s been on foot in the snow for a couple of days. Ivanna looked back to see what was the sudden commotion was about. Priscilla and some other woman dragging her to wherever.

Best to not get involved, I’m sure she can handle it. Staring into the fire, then at the rebellion leader looking at the medics trying to work on his injured friend. Whoever this “friend” was the leader sure looks very worried. She paused the thought, and gets up to walk over towards the leader.

“Who is he?” Ivanna questioned Baxter.

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"Oh my god if this is about me getting a girlfriend I said when everything is figured... out?" Cale turned around to see Priscilla. And she looked as shock as him. "Oh my god my partner in crime is still alive! Lorelthia wasn't completely destroyed!" Cale was about to rush up to her when he saw her shocked look turn into a glare.

"Cale explain, now! I am not moving a muscle until I get a damned explanation. Because last I checked you were announced to be dead! And what is up with this your highness bullshit tall dark and brooding is going on about!? Because believe me when I say I've had to deal with a lot so don't hold back. I have seen stuff that would make you go nuts!"

Cale took a deep breath "Turns out I am the illegitimate child of the king of Lorelthia. And given the actual prince is dead I may or may not have to ascend the throne. Which I have no idea of how to be royalty."

Priscilla's eyes widened at the bomb being dropped. She had no idea how to react to it. "OK I take it back, don't think I was ready for that. And who is Tall dark and brooding?"

"That is Angelo. He's been helping me. Which I question how he manages it. The guy has about as much patience as mom when she dealt with us. And no not about the barfight. She was piiiiised at you."

"Cale the guy was putting the moves on me when I told him to back off. I didn't expect it would've evolved into a full on brawl! Look just get over here so I can hug you! You have no idea how badly I need one."

With that Cale walked over to give his sister a hug. And it was as usual awkward.

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“You have no idea how much patience I have.” She said bluntly, watching the pair interact with an odd, far-off look in her eyes as the two continued to converse. Honestly, this whole sibling relationship was a bit foreign to her.

“... thanks for finding my sister, Angelo, I sure do appreciate what you’ve done for me. You brought my sister back to me, I thought she was dead. I’m so grateful, Angelo, thank you.” She muttered underneath her breath, eyes narrowed and arms crossed.

When they started hugging, she had had enough. “You’re welcome. Don’t stay up too late. Good night, your highness.” She said, bowing mockingly before turning on her heel and walking out of the room, thoroughly weirded out by the awkward embrace.

When she stepped out of the room, she closed the door and leaned against the wall briefly, head tipped up to stare at the ceiling, her mind in a far away place as she gazed up.

When she snapped out of her daze, she looked around, mumbled that it was getting late and trudged off, reaching up and grabbing her injured shoulder, putting pressure on it in some false attempt to numb the pain.

“... I shoulda drank that alcohol while I still had it.”

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Baxter Callahan

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"Three cuts, some minor bruises, unconsciousness and smoke inhalation," One of the medics reported to Baxter as the other one dabbed a towel in water and started patting it around Raymond's wounds. The stuff didn't sound too bad, but the leader did notice that the Shade could have easily slashed out his younger brother's heart if it weren't for his coat. The things you get yourself into. Baxter thought folding his arms across his chest before moving his piercing stare from the wounds to Ray's face. He was almost upset that the guy never really cared much about his own wellbeing. Well, at least it didn't seem like he did. Bax let out a breath looking down at the ground to calmly focus on the better fact that Raymond was reunited with them. "He's going to be okay," The medic repeated glancing at the leader with a concerned look before moving on to grab a bandage.

It didn't take long for a new voice to catch Baxter's attention. In which case, his blue gaze gradually shifted from the ground to one of the women who helped deliver Raymond to safety. She helped save his brother's life without even knowing who he was. What was new though? It wasn't too long ago when Ray took his time before formally introducing himself to Aurelie, Aria and Azalea. "Raymond, my younger brother," Baxter mentioned looking back at the unconscious guy, "He nearly sacrificed himself helping us escape the Shades." This of course was an event that the rebel leader would have tried preventing at all costs. But how could he prevent what he didn't know about? Ray never bothered telling anyone about his own last resort tactic in helping them all escape. Bax would have promptly rejected the idea even if it achieved their main goal of relocating the majority of the rebel group.

From the looks of it, chancing upon improv techniques and miracles played a rather large role in accomplishing this crazy "strategy". Baxter took a few steps toward Raymond who was peacefully lying down. If it weren't for the two women and the horse he probably would have been out cold in the cold.

Suddenly a quick motion caused Bax to lean back a bit. Ray popped up into a sit nearly catching his older brother off guard. "How are you?" The rebel leader straightened himself up and forced himself to be patient with Raymond's response. It was pretty obvious that the rogue was trying to orient himself after waking up from a knock out.

Ray's hair was a bit more tousled than usual with his eyes studying the area around him in almost mere silence. Anyone who caught his stare would have noticed the familiar glint of curiosity in his hazel gaze.

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Azalea Eve Windfore

Before she had heard the news of Raymond’s miraculous rescue, Azalea stirred fitfully in her sleep, thrashing to and fro in her cot as she was haunted by old memories that seemed so fresh still.

~~
In the library, among the warm browns of the book-lined walls, Karliah took charge of the decoration making. She set Delphinium, who was good with pencils and colors, to watercolor bits of stationery, and Hyacinth and the younger ones to winding and knotting yarn into balls. Over mugs of steaming cider, and the King’s slightly bemused expression at them as he penned a speech, along with the Queen’s faintly strained features as she wrote her letters, the library echoed with laughter and warmth, and everyone felt an aura of holiday cheer.

Except Azalea.The crafting would keep the girls from dancing, and it both pleased and worried her. They’d already missed the night before, when the King had read them all bedtime story. Shaking, Azalea kept pricking herself on the needle she used to thread the dried berries, needing an excuse to leave. Finally, after drawing blood from her thumb, she excused herself and ran upstairs.

It was late now. Fear curled in her stomach as she rubbed her necklace against the passage.

Please, she thought to herself as she pushed through the passage. Please let Ana be alright. Or she’d string Soris up-herself, magic or no.

Azalea quickly paced herself through the silver forest and arrived at the bridge, her red hair coming loose from its braid. She tightly grasped her necklace in one hand, which brought her at least one comfort. It was magic. It, perhaps, kept Soris from doing anything really terrible. She remembered, once, how he had flinched at it.

In the pavilion, Soris paced, a flat silhouette against the bright silvers.

“Ah!” he said, without stopping to bow. “Good evening, Princess. So Her Highness feels inclined to grace me with her presence tonight. Come for a dance?” She winced at his mocking smooth tone.

Azalea kept her mouth shut and her feet planted on the bridge, her lips pressed thinly together in some control of both anger and fear.

“Where are the rest of you?”

“It’s…Karliah’s birthday tonight,” she managed to stammer.

“And the night before?”

Azalea dug her fingers into the silver chain metal.

“Come now,” said Soris. “I am only curious. You have never missed dancing before.”

“The…King read them a story, and they fell asleep.” Her voice was cold as she tried to keep it from shaking.

“How sweet.” Keeper leaned against the arched doorframe. Twined throughout his fingers was the scarlet embroidery thread. Azalea stared at it, the red burning into her vision, finding a sudden dislike for the color. “Especially since you all hate him so much. Oh, don’t flinch like that, my lady. You think I haven’t seen it in you?” Soris’s long fingers wound around the thread, twisting it and pulling it into weblike shapes that reminded her of him being one giant spider. “If it is any comfort, I hate your father as well.”

“You don’t even know him.” Azalea spat, unable to contain herself.

“Do I have to? I hate him because he is the Calorian King, a Fifth ancestor. I’ve thrived on that hate. Hate, in its own way, is a virtue.”

Azalea cast a glance at the willow branches behind her, fighting the urge to flee. She scrunched the necklace even tighter in her hand. “Mr...Keeper,” she said slowly, not sure of how to address him without making him angry, but refusing to address him as a King as well. “Please. About Ana—you won’t…that is, if you could maybe cut—”

“Perhaps,” said Soris, cutting her short. “Go back, and bring your sisters tomorrow. Do not miss another night. And then, we shall see. You have been looking?”

“I hardly have a choice.” She said with an edge in her tone.

“No, you hardly do. Dear.”

Azalea winced at the term Ana had once always addressed her.

The needle, dangling from the end of the thread, flashed in the pale light of the pavilion. Azalea cowered against back against the swirled railing of the bridge.

“Go now. Bring them back tomorrow, and dance your little dances. You will not miss another night.” His voice was dangerously smooth, his black eyes boring into hers.

Against the pale mist of the pavilion, Soris held up the thread, a knitted web shape between his hands. In woven scarlet string, it read:

3 days.


~~
The sound of hushed voices outside her doorway woke her with a start, sitting up abruptly, it was easy to listen in, considering their voices were increasingly raised.

“Baxter ordered me to tell the royals—“

“And she’ll find out in the morning,” Aria’s voice interrupted sternly, “She’s sleeping for gods sake.”

“That’s not what Baxter ordered—he said,” the soldier started, getting increasingly agitated, “to tell the royals that Raymond was alive, not to tell—“

The door slammed open, interrupting the argueing pair as Azalea pushed through the pair and sprinted down the long corridor for the throne room.

The pain in her body and the way the room spun was secondary to her. Raymond was alive. Somehow. Somehow the bloody idiot was alive. She pushed down her rising excitement and anger as she burst into the throne room.

Azalea’s maroon, cropped hair was disheveled, along with her still dirty, bloody clothing she’d had no choice but to sleep in, her skin a sickly pale as she took in Raymond’s touseled hair and weaker looking apperance.

Relief hit her like a stone slamming into her chest, a big magnificent grin spreading across her freckled face, standing there, not sure wether she wanted to hug him, or slap him. There was an unfamiliar girl there in the throne room as well, but she decided she’d deal with that later.

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Raymond Callahan

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One moment Raymond was riding with Priscilla toward the castle. The next moment . . well. He blacked out. He didn't even remember blacking out, so anyone could imagine how the guy felt once his eyes shot open to view three random people surrounding him. "Who are you?" Raymond's body shot up with a weak fist ready for a throw. His same hand flew to his chest though when he held back a painful expression on his face. A wave of relief rushed over Ray the moment he heard a familiar voice question his wellbeing. In which case, Ray's gaze moved till he saw his brother standing right by him. "Bax?" Ray looked up at the man quickly connected the dots noticing the abandoned throne room he was in. His focus then shifted to the bandage in the person's hands, and soon enough the three medics' faces started looking familiar to him. Thankfully he made it to the castle.

"I'm okay," He responded to Baxter first firmly before looking over at a medic who was preparing a bandage, " . . right?" The medic nodded. In all honesty, Ray probably wasn't as well as he expected since he literally woke up from a state of unconsciousness. It was something that made him pause for a bit and thoughtfully look around as he backtracked on what he actually remembered.

"Priscilla. Is she here?" Raymond questioned remembering the last person he was with before he blacked out. "She-," Baxter cut himself off looking around not knowing where the woman actually was, "She is somewhere around here." Raymond nodded a bit relieved knowing that they were both able to make it to the castle somewhat in tact. "She'd be a great recruit, Bax," He mentioned softly nudging his brother with an arm. Meanwhile, Baxter kept his brows furrowed with all seriousness and concern. Raymond was waking up pretty nicely as if he didn't just almost die.

Despite that, Ray didn't think twice before diverting his attention back to the new face in front of his. "Hello," He smiled a bit looking at the dark-haired blue/green-eyed woman by Baxter. "Raymond Callahan," His hand naturally stuck out toward her for a shake only to recoil back at the pain that shot through his chest. As a result, Ray slowly brought his arm back down. "Nice to meet you," He nodded instead with a slight smile knowing that she'd probably understand the pain a shake would bring.

Boom. It didn't take long for the throne room's double doors to suddenly burst open and steal Ray's attention. Azalea. Who else would make an entrance so loud? Before Raymond could do anything though he found himself smiling at the princess. In fact, he could have sworn that they smiled together. His gaze briefly took her appearance in with the new hair cut and all before his brows slightly furrowed. "Is she okay? Why is there blood on her?", He asked looking back over at Baxter.

"Gah," The injured guy swiftly glanced at the medic who continued to finish up their job placing the bandage over his left pectoral.

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