Fantasy The Five Kingdoms - The Fall of Sarthenfall - Ic

[Bakuyoshi]

"I-I see, and for your information I lived in the inventors Barracks. So to make a long story short. I have never been into the inn and have shared a building with at least 50 more people. And yes the meal breaks were hectic. Everyone was addicted to the biscuits, and meat was so good. Like no joke Snake meat is really good." Cale paused before realizing he had gone off track.

"How can you speak so boldly? It's like all of you could be leaders in your own. I mean I'm asking because I was always the one to be picked on yet I was so afraid, Me and the knight ended up trapped together after the whole shade invasion and since then he has been trying to get me to be more of a man. Not like that General guy, I kinda can't act like that since my mentor for inventing was female. So I was wondering since you all were so confident if you could help me be more like you. I mean if you are willing to." Cale was absolutely nervous, this was the first conversation that he had without the assistance of Angelo. And he had no way of telling if he was shit at this or was doing just a bit better then he believed. But all he could do was wait for the groups response.

Blackrose7

 

[Blackrose7]

"That explains a lot, and I want to try the snake meat." said Sam. Cale made Sam hungry by saying the snake meat part, because he made it sound like it was the meat from the heavens.
Annabel smiled at Cale when he was being nervous, as she does sometimes get timid towards strangers. "We will gladly help you with that. After all, that is what Demonic Velvet do." said Annabel. She putted a pillow for Cale to sit down in their tent, for she knew that everybody would start talking to Cale once Annabel starts it. "Ok before we start. I would like for you to sit down on this pillow, and to say your name once we are done introducing ourselves. We are going to do that, so you would be a bit more comfortable here." said Annabel.
Annabel and her gang sit down on their pillows in the tent too, since they didn't want to be standing outside while talking to him. "I will go first since I am their leader." said Annabel. "My name is Annabel. I am the leader of Demonic Velvet, and a castle maid in Ezeris. You already know why I created Demonic Velvet because of that rude general, so I won't repeat myself."
Annabel looked at Daisy, as it was her turn next. "Hi, I'm Daisy. I am the co-leader of Demonic Velvet, and Annabel's best friend." said Daisy. "I will introduce everybody else, since this will take a while if we introduce them too."
Sam, Thomas, and Jerry agreed with Daisy on that, because they don't have that much to say about themselves. "The one who was making fun of the rabbit princess is Sam, his friend is Thomas over there, and the quiet one in our gang is Jerry." said Daisy. "Ok. Now it's your turn, and take your time with that. We aren't going to make you say it immediately, so you won't be nervous with us."
Daisy was saying that to Cale, because she wanted for him to relax while being with them.
Bakuyoshi

 

[Bakuyoshi]

"C-Cale, my names Cale. I a- was a Lorelthian engineer. I got the job properly at the age of 17. And as I said I lived in a Barracks for a good few years. Lots of shouting, stuff exploding. And... an incident that will never be talked about because we all agreed that event will remain nameless. Even if some of us liked it." Cale blushed like he was remembering something embarassing.
"But since the whole kingdoms being butchered I've been with the big strong and Silent Angelo. We joined up because I was a good marksman and he was good with a sword. Mind you he has issues with me. I'm panicky, noisy. And as he mentioned I have the issue of going on for too long when I get passionate. Apparently I went on for an hour just talking once. And I owe him my life twice over."

Blackrose7

 

[FrostFire]

Morag 'Aria' MacLaird

Spoiler: Images

"Well thanks. I'm glad you like it.", Aria snorted at Azalea's comment about her tent being heaven, but she knew that her cousin meant it.
Before washing herself, she grabbed Wind-Cleaver, bringing him closer to Loki as she de-saddled both horses, but left their bridles on. Working swiftly, she placed the saddles in a little strorage area on the inside of her tent, in the corner next to the entrance. She grabbed a brush, and going back to the horses, she groomed them quickly, brushing through their manes, tails and coats. Once that was done and they were relatively clean, she pulled a small knife from her boot and picked out Loki's feet first, before moving on to Wind-Cleaver, taking more care with him than she had her own horse.
But she got through the routine without getting kicked, and putting the knife back she followed Azalea's lead and washed off quickly with the icy water in the bucket, unfazed by it's freezing temperature. She checked her hair, which was still securely pinned up in a braided bun, only a few wavy strands having fallen out at the front - so she decided to leave it.

Looking over to see Annabel and her gang deep in conversation with the feeble lad they had travelled with, she decided not to disturb them. She was sure they would all go for food when they felt like it or when the meal was called... But Aria was starving, and wanted to be there the moment that food was set out.
The communal dining tent was warm anyway, and although she didn't mind the chilly air she knew the others weren't as acclimatised to the cold weather, nor were they as hardy as she.
"We should head on over to the communal tent before they call everyone for food. It can get pretty hectic so it's a good idea to get in early.", she grinned at the thought of the hustle and bustle of the large tent. It was perhaps her favourite place in the camp; sure it was loud, cramped, sweaty and full of people who hadn't bathed properly in days, but it was warm and there was food, and the sense of community in there was heartwarming, everyone talking over everyone animatedly about their days or telling jokes or stories to cheer the mood.
The cheerful hardiness of her people filled Aria with pride, in the face of such adversary, the majority of her people were still boisterous, animated and positive after the initial shock and sadness had worn off.

Ms. Sparrow SandraDeelightful Blackrose7 Bakuyoshi

 

[Blackrose7]

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Cale." said Annabel. "But anyway, let's start with what you came here for."
Daisy looked at Cale when he said that he is panicky, noisy, and goes way too long when he gets passionate. She had a feeling that Cale can't control himself, or he believes that he is a coward and a weakling. "Do you believe in yourself, Cale? Because from what you just said, it makes it seems like that you don't have any confidence in yourself." said Daisy.
"Yeah man. If you were really panicky, you would have stand there like a statue or ran out of this tent like the rabbit princess. However, you aren't doing any of those things, since you are still talking to us. That takes a lot of guts for a panicky person like yourself to do that." said Sam, as he gave Cale a thumbs up on that. "Speaking about the rabbit princess, don't be like her. She is a doormat, and a complete scaredy cat who will always run away from her problems. Not to mention that everybody will control her, because of her inability to stand up for herself."
Sam pointed at himself, for he is a perfect example of what would happen if she doesn't stand up for herself. "Look at me for example, I keep poking fun at her, because of how much of a coward she is. She is a princess for god sake, and she keeps acting like a rabbit who is being chased by a bunch of foxes here." said Sam. He was actually expecting for Aurelie to say something to him about his behavior at the inn, but she did nothing about it, and ran away like a complete coward. "Also about the noisy and talking for too long when you are passionate part, some people actually like a person like that. It helps even more if they are a leader, because people will think that they are a caring and fearless leader, who will not be ignored by anybody. However, there will be people who will see through that, or they just don't like that at all. Angelo is a good example for someone who doesn't like it when someone is noisy, or goes way too long with their passionate talking."
Everybody looked at Sam, for he had a lot to say about this. "Damn Sam. You really know what to say to Cale here." said Annabel. "Of course, I do, boss. You helped me a lot after you saved me from those criminals." said Sam, cheerfully. "Also I look up to you a lot, because you are the best."
Annabel smiled at Sam, as he is awesome when he is complimenting her like this. "Thank you, Sam." said Annabel. "And I will add to what Sam have said to you, Cale, but there is nothing wrong with being noisy or going on for way too long in your passionate talking. You just need to learn how to control that, because everybody is different. Look at what Sam did, since he did a passionate talk towards you, and yet he can control the tone of his voice."
Bakuyoshi

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Nathanial Whiteman

The General, whom was making his way towards the communal tent, inspecting tents and his soldiers as he went with a harsh, calculating face stopped as Harringoths voice sounded behind him. He turned around slowly, facing the barbaric looking man with narrowed eyes.

His gaze slowly traveled down Harringoth as his eyes found the diary Harringoth patted. Nathanial’s eyes narrowed, his eyes sharp as he stared at the diary for a long moment, contemplating it and yet looking extremely distasteful at the same time before his gaze sharply met Harringoths and his lips curled into a satisfied smirk.

“A weapon?” He questioned, his tone low, before folding his arms across his chest. The General was a simple man. Money mattered little to him, but the funds were needed to supply the rebellion as well. “You will be payed for your...gift. Don’t expect it to be much, these are trying times.” With that, Nathanial reached into the front pocket of his uniform and pulled out a small brown cloth sack that clinked when he plucked it from his pocket. It was small, only fitting into the size of his hands. Both the coins within it weighed more heavily.

In a smooth gesture he pulled the string that tied the cloth together loose before sticking his large calloused hand into the small pouch and pulled out three silver coins. Each coin was only worth about 50$, and while they weren’t exactly gleaming gold coins, it was a generous offer in itself, especially with the rebellion having so little coin.

But this diary was something he needed. He tied the pouch up tightly before sticking it back in his pocket. He extended the three silver coins towards Harringoth. “This will be little more than enough to get you by for awhile.” He said coolly, “Now,” He said in a firm voice, his tone somewhat demanding, “the diary.” He requested, extending his other hand for the diary, his dark eyes held a slightly almost...hungry gaze as he looked at the diary.


ShadowBroker​

 

[Bakuyoshi]

"Well, I have to shove the panic aside. It's still there, like a fever that won't go away. Or that one thought of what if. Believe me when I say inside I feel like I'm about to throw up any second. Key word being feel. I just feel nauseous, and like I have to go out and relieve myself. Actually let's not go on about that, me adressing it made me feel more sick." Cale said as he let out an uncomfortable cough. A release of some sort to help with the stress of the situation. "But if you don't mind me asking what was Ezeris like? The most I know is that me and a few others had to fill an order of a batallions worth of Crossbows. And a single experimental weapon we had in the works. Given the lack of a reply I bet they didn't like it."

Blackrose7

 

[ShadowBroker]

Harringoth 'The Mercenary of The Crossing'

The story continues

Harringoth is with the group, speaking to the General - .

Ms. Sparrow

He looked at the bag with a 'generous' smirk such as the General's expression seemed to be alike, only that such a simple man cared not for money but the diary. Despite that, Har would gain what he wanted and move on as he always did. The Rebellion may not have a great wealth on their own, Harringoth had never seen any coin on his life that he had to later on threw into his debts. Today would be different, today he would gain what he is worth and move on to the next task once it occurs.

But of course, the diary. After all, his mission was only to carry the damn thing for to long and he had already learn what was within its encrypted pages. Oh- Yes. Encrypted pages... Such was the paranoia of the enlightened priest of the South whom invented their own vocabulary to produce such a infamous piece of work. At the very end, Har only did smile as he removed it from his tight belt and extended it to him, "Father Goodwill always said my job was to keep the diary safe, even as he died by the hands of those creepy monsters he kept yelling it out-loud." he nodded twice, "He would have convinced you to pay me more." With those last words, he turned away and began his slow return to wherever he came from, he would indeed check on the group before leaving the camp though.

The general would find a diary with symbols that made no sense at all, letters dispersed and lines connecting them all. The background symbol changed according to the pair of pages and so did the letters; everything seem too precise to be random words without a hidden purpose.. Aside from that small detail only a curious one would notice, there seemed no sign as to how read the diary. At least not on its own.

 

[Xanto]

Baxter Callahan, and Clyde Callahan, and Raymond Callahan​

After Baxter found a random helper and told them to get a better than usual supper set, he walked into the tent to find a sight he hadn't seen in about two years. "Unhand me, dragon!" Clyde declared as he tickled his uncle on the left side of his neck. Raymond had his nephew slung over his left shoulder, which only gave the kid a better opportunity to attack his weak spot even more. "Haha!" The hazel-eyed man laughed before shifting his gaze from the kid to his brother after noticing a figure at the side of his eye. Meanwhile, Baxter was simply smirking on the sidelines watching the two "kids" reunite in their own unique way. "Ehem," Raymond cleared his throat turning the kid upside down only to be greeted by Clyde's laughter. It was a great way to have the boy quit "attacking" him.

"Clyde, do not call your Uncle Teddy a dragon," Baxter began in a serious tone just as a smile appeared on his face. When the Callahan siblings were younger, they had

the hardest time pronouncing Raymond without biting their tongues or switching consonant sounds. The nickname Ray at the time was out of the question too since their underdeveloped, childish eastern accents made it sound like they were saying their mother's first name, Rayne. Since each sibling had their own middle names, the family decided to pull a nickname from Raymond's. Theodore or Theo wasn't quite the easiest to pronounce either so Teddy came into play.

Raymond squinted his eyes at his older brother as he gently set his nephew back down. He never enjoyed that nickname merely because it made him think of a stuffed bear. It didn't help that Baxter was teaching Clyde to match his face to that name.

Within a few moments, the three were walking off toward the communal tent. Baxter was naturally striding a few steps ahead of his brother and nephew. After all, it was essential for him to arrive before the others did just to make sure that the place was at least a

bit more cleaned up than usual. "I hope we get to see the royals!" Clyde excitedly exclaimed tugging Ray's left hand. It wasn't the kid's first time though especially after interacting with Princess Aria a few weeks ago. That royal sure was a nice lady. She of course set the bar for his expectations toward the other royal figures at their camp. "One of them are my friends, ya know?" Clyde nudged his uncle's leg and winked at his high-class connection like he was a chosen one. Even if Clyde was a kid, Baxter never hid the reality from him. The boy knew it was hard to come by any royal member during the rebellion.

"Really?" Raymond asked raising a brow at his smooth nephew, "Which one?" At this point it was obvious that Clyde picked up his uncle's mannerisms. Oddly enough, Ray had yet to see a hint of Baxter's personality in the boy. "Princess Aria," Clyde confidently said to him as they both got closer to the tent. They watched Baxter enter before temporarily peaking his head back out to talk to a nearby soldier.

"Describe her," Raymond replied moving his focus back to Clyde and pretending not to know who the big-eyed, commanding redhead was. He wanted his nephew to maximize his happiness and confidence particularly during this time of darkness for the whole camp. "Red hair, freckles, and nice," Clyde responded with an innocent grin plastered on his youthful face. In truth, his knowledge of the princess was pretty little. These three factors were components that he was really sure of though.

"Meal is ready," Baxter mumbled to the soldier who abruptly turned on his heel to notify the rest of the camp. The food wasn't out yet, but all they had to do at that point was transfer it into the tent. The time it would take to complete that task would be just the right amount of time for the rest of the group to arrive.

Ms. Sparrow FrostFire explosiveKitten SandraDeelightful Blackrose7 Bakuyoshi ShadowBroker TeslaRolePlays
(You all would probably be getting informed that food is ready)

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Azalea Eve Windfore

Azalea felt a tug of appreciation for her cousin as Aria tended to Wind-Cleaver. She hadn’t taken often to riding Wind-Cleaver in the past year, until the attack. She forgot how much she’d missed feeling the wind on her face and the whisk of her hair in the breeze, the smell of the fields and the trees. She wished she could’ve enjoyed it more if she weren’t running for her life. In all honesty, she wished she could’ve spoiled Wind-Cleaver more. She was glad he was getting the attention he needed. She couldn’t help but snort in laughter as he slightly refused to cooperate, putting his hoofs down with indigakce on more than a few occasions in his typical stubbornness before he finally allowed Aria to clean his hooves.

Azalea turned her attention to Aurelie, who kept her gaze down to the grass she stood on for the most part, other than to gaze on the tent, looking somewhat uncomfortable. In truth, it was hard for her too. She was used to sleeping with all her siblings, a window overlooking the gardens, and the old brick fireplace that warmed them at nights. She wasn’t used to being alone, unaccompanied by all her siblings. But stomping and moaning and whining about it wouldn’t bring them back. It’d only remind everyone else of their own losses. And so, in typical Azalea fashion she hid her own troubles behind her anger and stubborn pride.

“Think of it this way, rabbit,” Azalea said, approaching Aurelie in a spirited stride, and taking up her cousins nickname for Aurelie, “You could be sleeping...permanently in a nice comfy carriage or-rr-rr,” she paused, her foot hovering in the air mid-stride as she did so, “you could be sleeping - and wake up tomorrow - on the floor in a tent.” She grinned wryly at Aurelie as she brushed past her, giving her a brief pat on the shoulder as she did so, approaching Aria.

Azalea was fishing for trouble, actually, she throughly enjoyed the teasing of anybody, as long as it was in good humor, but she desperately wanted to see Aurelie get fed up with it and say something or even do something about it. Somebody had to toughen her up. Her grin faded as Aria mentioned going to the communal tent for food. “Aye,” Azalea agreed, with a slight nod, pursing her lips at the thought. This would certainly be a...different dinner to put it lightly. She pushed memories of family meals out her mind. This was her life now. She had to stop thinking. Actually, she had to get drunk. She’d only ever had wine before, she wondered if there was any alcohol to begin with.

Her mind wandered instantly from the thoughts of rebellion as she caught sight of three figures approaching a large tent - which could only be the communal tent - a brief distance away. Baxter, “Ray”, and a small child. At the sight of Raymond she instant thought of Aria’s reaction whenever she glanced at him and curiosity peaked her... along with mischief.

Azalea came up alongside Aria, swiftly looping an arm around Aria’s arm as she started for the communal tent. Azalea’s yellow-green eyes were bright with wicked intent. “Ray,” Azalea said in a syrupy voice, grinning, “Have you met anyone so blasted handsome?” Her wicked grin spread, “Because from the way you stare at him I would think not.” She teased, her spirited stride returning. Barely nodding in acknowledgment as a hurried soldier briskly informed them the food was ready before he went to inform another group of the same news.

SandraDeelightful FrostFire Xanto
​

 

[FrostFire]

Morag 'Aria' MacLaird

Spoiler: Images

Aria couldn't help but chuckle as she listened to Azalea tease Aurelie; she had to agree with her. Sure the camp would take some getting used to for those who used to be more privileged, but this was how things were now. Of course, Azalea was aiming for a reaction rather than actually comforting the scared Princess.
"You'll get used to it, Aurelie. Sleeping on the floor can be surprisingly comfortable.", she smiled encouragingly, before turning and starting to head towards the communal tent as Azalea wound their arms together.
But Aria flinched like she had been punched when Azalea spoke, realising her expressions had been picked up on. Well, there was no need for her to hide it anymore, what was the point?
"Yes I have.", she nodded, her voice sad and strained. "Ray looks very similar to my...", she gulped, the words were difficult to say.
"To my partner, Luther. He-.. He died protecting me.", she cleared her throat, trying to get the lump there to go away, her voice was uncharacteristically thick with unhindered emotion.
"No one knew about us, not even my parents... But it doesn't matter now.", she chuckled ruefully, the sharp, intense and concentrated feelings watering down a bit as she regained control.
"Anyway! Let's go and get food.", she changed the subject as a soldier notified them food was ready, her cheerfulness was obviously forced as she strode along, her arms still in Azalea's as she marched into the tent as they were just putting the large containers of food out.
She waited patiently as the attendants portioned out her serving, and as she took it with a grateful "Thanks.", she noticed there was quite a bit more food than usual. They were really going all out, she assumed both for the arrival of more citizens and boosting moral were the agenda. Either way, she would certainly enjoy this food.
Looking around, she decided to face her grief head on, and approached Baxter, Ray and Clyde, sitting down next to the youngest member of the family with a smile and a short wave, chirping "Hiya sweetie, how's your day going?", her voice barely strained anymore - children always cheered her up. She began to dig into her food, doing her best to avoid looking at Ray, conscious of Azalea's watchful gaze and her own simmering emotions.

Ms. Sparrow SandraDeelightful Xanto

 

[Blackrose7]

Annabel was honestly thinking of a way to calm Cale’s panic attack since the poor guy shouldn’t have to deal with that. “Well, you can stand outside if that makes you comfortable, Cale,” said Annabel. She would not keep Cale here if he would have a panic attack in their conversation, because talking to new people is hard.
“If it makes you feel better, Cale. Annabel is sometimes timid towards strangers, and tries to be calm in order to look normal towards them,” said Daisy.
Daisy said that, so she would let Cale know that not even Annabel is a perfect leader here.
“Oh my gosh, Daisy. No!” said Annabel.
She didn’t expect for Daisy to say that, because that literally come out of nowhere. “What? I am right about that since your timid side does sometimes come out,” said Daisy.
Annabel didn’t want to continue talking about that, for she knew that Daisy would try to poke her cheeks as to tease her about that.

When Cale asked them what was Ezeris like, Daisy stopped her teasing attempt on Annabel immediately, and looked at Cale with a serious look. “Ezeris is a horrible place. All of the criminals can do anything they want, and nobody would punish them for it. The innocent are either killed, become their slaves, or have to deal with something far worse.” said Daisy. “You are literally not safe there if you can’t defend yourself, which is why Annabel created Demonic Velvet.”
“Um...actually, beating up those criminals at night wasn’t my intention in the first place,” said Annabel.
Everybody looked at Annabel when she said that, because nobody knows about that. “...Then what were you doing? I just saw you beat some criminals up during the night, and that was it.” said Daisy.
“Trying to sneak into the castle, so I can look for an important book. My parents didn’t let me read it, and I don’t know why they did that,” said Annabel. “I would have been able to do that if those stupid criminals didn’t try to kill me.”
Sam was slow clapping when he heard what Annabel was actually doing before they met.
“Well, I am so glad that was prevented, because I would have been dead if Demonic Velvet wasn’t created,” said Sam. “Also did you just said Crossbows, Cale?”
Sam took out his crossbow from his bag since Annabel ordered a few fancy mini bow and arrows for them. “Annabel ordered some of those Crossbows for us, as she did saw the king and queen’s weapon supply for crossbows getting stolen by the thieves,” said Sam.

They wanted to continue to talk to Cale, but Baxter said that their food is ready. “I guess we can continue to talk about this once we get our food, because I do like to talk to you, Cale,” said Annabel.
Her gang already left to get their food while Annabel just waited for Cale to leave their tent, as she would follow behind him on their way to get that.
Bakuyoshi

 

[Xanto]

Clyde Callahan, Raymond Callahan, and Baxter Callahan​

Snap. The sound of Clyde's small fingers flicking together immediately caught Raymond's attention while they entered the tent. "I told ya there'd be beef stew!" The boy announced jumping at the smell and sight of his favorite savory dish being brought in after them. His bright blue eyes watched as he slightly felt his mouth water. It didn't take long for Raymond to look over his shoulder when he noticed his older brother at the side of his eyes. "A celebration?" The younger brother asked in a low voice as he leaned forward so that Baxter was the only one within earshot. The older brother merely nodded before getting his share of food and taking his seat at one of the tables.

Within a few seconds, Raymond was able to catch on to Baxter's reasoning behind the whole "feast". Royals, a brother's arrival, and a negative morale stemming from Wayland could all benefit from this one occurrence. His hazel gaze followed the few beer barrels that were placed somewhere off to the side as he carried his and Clyde's meals. "Uncle Teddy sit next to me!" Clyde innocently declared completely forgetting about Raymond's attitude toward the name. A confused look crept its way to Raymond's face when he looked back at his nephew. "Who is this Teddy you speak of?" He playfully asked with a raised brow before looking around to search for a "Teddy."

"C'mon Uncle Ray . . ," Clyde lowered his voice attempting to adjust a name he had gotten used to. It was no surprise that the boy had a harder time saying Raymond just as his father's generation did when they were younger. Fortunately, there would be no mix ups between Ray and his mother Rayne now that they all referred to her as "gammy." This term was essential or else Clyde would start calling his grandma "mother."

The uncle smiled a bit before placing their food on the table. It was always best to train them while they were young. "Ah, good enough," He joked finally taking a seat next to his nephew. These two Callahans were very playful to say the least seemingly seeping the little share of fun Baxter could have genetically obtained as well.

Soon enough, a familiar voice caught the Callahan trio off guard. Clyde immediately wrapped his arms around the princess before even remembering she was a royal. Despite that sudden realization though, the child didn't really care for formalities with this redhead. "Amazing! My favorite dish and people all together!" He proclaimed releasing Aria from the little trap he had her in and raising his fists in the air.

"Bite," Baxter commented from across the table as he stared at his son seated in front of him. The little boy gave a shy smile both ways before digging his spoon into the stew and proudly taking a mouthful. This scene was very reminiscent of the first time he had met Princess Aria.

"Excuse me," Raymond easily looked over the boy's head and right at the redhead who had the habit of staring at him. It could have been awkward, but the man decided against it. To be honest, he believed Aria had a reason anyway. Perhaps he just really didn't have the right looking five o'clock shadow that day. After waiting a few seconds to get Aria's full attention, Raymond stuck his hand out behind Clyde's head. "I never got to formally introduce myself," His hazel glance briefly moved from Aria to Azalea, "Raymond Callahan, Ezerisian blacksmith." "And magician!" Clyde added with one cheekful of beef seemingly stored for the winter.

Ms. Sparrow FrostFire SandraDeelightful (I'm assuming Aurelie would be with the other princesses as well)

 

[Bakuyoshi]

"No it's fine. It was certainly interesting meeting the lot of you. I lost track of how long it' been since I spoke with someone else next to Angelo. And not being greeted with no response or being told to keep quiet. But for now we best get ready. We have to eat and after that we all have to be screened." Cale felt his pocket where he had the symbol of the royal family of Lorelthia. In his head he could only think of what he needed to do if it was found. Maybe he could get Baxter to keep it a secret. "Angie said to keep it as low as can be. If anyone has to discover it, who better then that man. He is higher up and seems to be the best potential ally. Something to consult Angelo about." Cale walked out of the tent. "Good meeting you all. And may the spirits of the 5 see us succeed in these dark times." Cale continued walking until he found an area where a lot of people were at. Yet he saw no sign of Angelo. "Odd he's usually around. Wondering if what was bothering him is still causing some issue."

Blackrose7

 

[Blackrose7]

"Alright, and you are welcome to talk to us at anytime, Cale." said Annabel, as she got up from her seat in the tent. "Also, I had to deal with the people who greeted me without a response or told me to be quiet in Demonic Velvet as well, because people do act differently towards a different person. It doesn't matter if they are a leader or not either."
Annabel put her right hand behind her head, since some of the newcomers did ended up doing that when they met her in the Demonic Velvet's base. "I just usually gave the ones who greeted me without a response a smile and a nod of acknowledgment, for I do know that they are either shy or don't know what to say. The ones who try to tell me to be quiet in order for them to get an upper hand are the most fun to mess with. I get to laugh at their silly attempt to do that, and then say no to them." said Annabel. She is used to how people greeted her, as they do have to ask either her or Daisy if they want to join Demonic Velvet. Some of her members' first greetings were either very interesting, funny, awkward, or etc. Some of them were kind of rude to her as well, and Annabel would usually have to leave the room once that was over, so she wouldn't say horrible things to the asshole.

"But anyway, enough about that, since I want to go eat now. I am also not looking forward towards the screening part, because I really don't want them to know what I look like under this hood especially when Baxter is from Ezeris." said Annabel. Even though, they will point out about the princess thing eventually, she really doesn't want them to say that. 'If I can avoid the screening and be the first to finish taking a bath before the other girls get there. I would be a god at avoiding that mess, for I really want nobody to call me a princess.' thought Annabel. Annabel doesn't think she is worthy to be called a princess even if she finds out about that, because she is just a castle maid who owns a gang of her own.

When Cale did his final greeting towards them, and left to go to the food area. Annabel follow right behind Cale to go to the food area too, so she would meet up with the rest of her gang.
"Annabel, I got your food already, so you don't need to deal with the other people at the food table." said Daisy. She knows that Annabel wanted to eat something different, as they usually have to eat bread, potatoes, beef stew, cheese, or broth during their lunch time in Demonic Velvet. Annabel's house was also lucky enough to have a oven, because not everybody in Ezeris got that. "Thank you, Daisy." said Annabel.
She was eating a mutton curry, since she wanted to know what it taste like. 'Holy shit! This is so good, and it is better than the crappy food in Ezeris.' thought Annabel, who was happily eating that.
Her gang ate their food, and they got the same reaction as Annabel, because Trodaire have better food than Ezeris.

Before Cale left the tent: Bakuyoshi

 

[SandraDeelightful]

Princess Aurelie of Aubigine
​

Aurelie knew that this wouldn't be easy and she couldn't see herself getting used to it any time soon. She followed Aria and Azalea out of the tent and to the communal. She was still scared and walking by with her head down. She lifted the hem of her navy skirt ever so slightly, making it easier for her to walk. She was used to only lifting up her skirt when she was walking up and down the stairs, she was used to flat ground. She could make out the tips of her black shoes as she looked down.

She really was a rabbit, a scared little rabbit who ran away from anything that frightened her, loud noises and even new people. She avoided anything that she considered even mildly frightening, finding a whole and hiding until the danger was gone. She had made it to the communal tent, and got some of the stew. She was a little nervous to taste it. Most of the food that she had was fine meats and fish with plenty of cakes and pastries for desert. This was something else that would take some getting used to.

She sat fairly close to Aria, as she was the closest thing to a person she trusted. She was clearly uncomfortable in this sort of situation. She kept quiet and ate silently. That wasn't much different than how she at in her palace. It was with her parents and it was all in awkward silence. The only difference was that there was so much talking, no silence, and Aurelie didn't know what she preferred.

 

[FrostFire]

Morag 'Aria' MacLaird

Spoiler: Images

Aria gratefully and happily accepted the hug from little Clyde, her sorrow practically evaporating as she hugged him back with a soft squeeze before he released her, a kind and contented smile pulling at her features.
"Aww~" She chuckled, "I'll have to remember this is your favourite food." She said playfully, poking him in the ribs. Aria was touched that he considered her to be one of his 'favourite people'. She always had a soft spot for children, she doubted she would have any of her own - honestly the thought terrified her, but she had always been very good with kids. Surprising, considering she was an only child. When she was told she would make a wonderful Mother, she was never sure how to react. She knew it would be her duty as ruler to have heirs, so she would have to overcome her fear and reluctance eventually, but she did her best not to think about that.

She took a few mouthfuls of food, before the inevitable happened; Ray decided to talk to her. She jumped a little as he first addressed her, but swallowed her mouthful, steeling herself as she turned slightly to look over Clyde. She was facing her fears head on, after all.
Looking at him directly, she felt the painful tug of her heart but ignored it. It wasn't his fault he looked like Luther.
"Ah, no I suppose not." She admitted, knowing that was mostly her fault. She took his hand and shook it firmly, her concealed strength and power evident within her sturdy grip. She smiled genuinely as he introduced himself properly, her freckles dancing on her cheeks as she grinned wider as Clyde interjected, laughing as she rose a sculpted red eyebrow.
"Magician? I've never met a magician... What sort of tricks can you do?" She asked eagerly, finding the image of this tall, handsome man juggling or pulling rabbits out of hats very amusing. Her Father didn't value entertainment like magicians or jesters - so she had never really seen anything like that, but she knew that such things were popular in the other Kingdoms... Entertainment in Trodaire was mostly combat orientated, although singing was quite popular. And Aria had a brilliant singing voice, not that she used it very often, she wasn't really bothered about singing despite how good she was, and because of this barely anyone knew about her hidden talent. She guessed Ray's talents were more well known than hers.
"When I was little I always wanted to watch a magic show, like they have in the other Kingdoms.", she smiled at the memory of her much smaller self.
"But I never got the chance, Father didn't want me to be distracted from my training.", her smile turned a little sad as she thought of her parents. Her Father was wise, and had been right of course, she would certainly have been distracted... She had been brought up very differently from most children, something she wouldn't change for the world... But entertainment like that was never a part of it.

Xanto Ms. Sparrow SandraDeelightful

 

[explosiveKitten]

Alright, I can’t sit in this tent anymore.

The young woman sat up very suddenly and slipped her shirt on, watching the worn, stained fabric drape over her body like a blanket, concealing her feminine figure and bindings. That done, she slipped her armor back on piece by piece and before slipping out of the tent altogether. She did a quick scan of her surroundings before turning slowly and giving Trillium’s snout a pat.

“Alright, pretty girl... stay here. I’ll be back later.” She said, looking into the mare’s brown eyes before walking off towards where all the people are. Or at least... kind of. She went towards the crowds in hopes of finding something to earn her attention.

While she was walking, she saw some... interesting things. Mainly, an interaction between two men. One of them, the mercenary who has joined their group last minute, and the other, the prideful General who apparently loved to flaunt his position. From the distance Angie saw them, when couldn’t make them out very well. The only thing she picked up was who they were and they seemed to be... having a tense conversation. If she had been closer, maybe...
She soon moved on. No point in sticking one’s nose into someone’s else’s business. Who knows if they even noticed her.

Slowly, she found herself at a massive mess hall, absolutely brimming with hungry soldiers, men and women alike. Quickly her eyes managed to find Cale and that Ezerisian gang, which she honestly found kind of surprising. A guy this timid immediately heads to makes friends with the street gang? Huh. Maybe that’s good? Either way, she made her way through the crowd towards Cale, her expression neutral as she adopted that strong male persona once again.

Bakuyoshi Blackrose7

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Azalea Eve Windfore

Two spots of red appeared on Azalea’s face at Aria’s answer. Luther. Another name on the pile. It was hard to imagine Aria having a lover, but she could see why she kept it a secret. With the harshness of the North, it was hard to imagine her uncle accepting Aria having a lover. But Aria most likely watched Luther die. It was hard to imagine what that kind of pain felt like, mostly because she’d never been in love. Didn’t need it. She had too much mouth for a man anyhow. But Aria felt that pain...all because of...

Azalea swallowed the lump rising in her throat as they entered the spacious tent. Her knees feeling uncharacteristically weak. The tent was already crowding with soldiers, who talked and laughed merrily as if the world wasn’t collapsing around them. They jested and chidded with each other, long wooden tables with wooden benches on either side. The tables were lined vertically along opposite sides of the tent, leaving a large pathway clear down to the end of the tent.

A few heads turned in their direction, specifically Azalea’s whom they had never seen before and looked none the princess with dark red waves that flowed down to her waist, dirty riding clothes, matching bruises around her wrists, a giant bruise around her neck, and the five long scars that ran diagonally across her cheek, Azalea looked more like a bandit than anything else. She heard someone snort in disapproval amoung the men, the few gazes she caught she met head on with a steely gaze, unafriad and from the outside, unashamed, though on the inside she felt differently. Someone whistled admiringly in the crowd, and she couldn’t help but instinctively prod both Aria and Aurelie forward in an act of protection, falling behind them and shooting a glare in the direction of the whistle before they sat down.

Azalea couldn’t help but be thrown into dismay when she found out who they were sitting with. But her expression eased into its familiar wryness as she looked upon the faces at the table. Her eyes foound each of the faces, and a grin quirked the corner of her lips, quirking a little more at the wee chit that hugged Aria. She was quite experienced with kids, having so many little siblings to look after. But it was the only greeting she extended, and it was clear Azalea’s mind was elsewhere. On Luther, her sisters, the General. On him. She looked over both Aurelie and Aria’s head and at Raymond, who was now formally introducing himself though more to Aria then her. She grinned a little at Raymond as the wee chit also included one of his professions as being a magician. Azalea shot a bemused glance at Aria. A familiar, mischeviously light lit up her yellow-green eyes. A devious smirk spread across her face like a fox amoung chickens. As Aria and Raymond interacted, ending with Aria talking about wanting to see a magic show as a child.

Azalea leaned forward, pushing her barely eaten stew aside as she rested her elbow on the table with and her chin on her hand, slouching forward in a very smug and unladylike fashion leaning towards so she could look at Raymond past both Aurelie and Aria.

“Aye, Aria is huge fan of magic. Very big love for magicians.” Azalea said in wry tone, malicious intent behind every word. She couldn’t resist teasing her cousin. Suddenly her grin dropped, her stomach twisting in knots. Magic. It was fake, at least, the magic he did, but it didn’t change that the word left a sickening taste in her mouth. “Not that any of you know what magics really like.” She muttered into her stew, quietly but loud enough for the group to hear, blurting it out before she could think. She scratched the scars on her cheek as they began to itch.
​

Nathanial Whiteman

Nathanial emitted a snort of annoyance as Harringoth simply said he would’ve been paid more for such a trip. The General huffed as he quickly but so...smoothly took the diary from Harringoth’s grasp and inhaled deeply, his eyes closed as he did so, as if drinking it in before his eyes opened, his gaze sharp before stuffing the diary in his pocket.

He didn’t wait to see where Harringoth went. Unbeknownst to him that the diary was encrypted, the General was seemingly a simple man, and now that the world was being swallowed by Shades, he really didn’t seem to think there would be a reason for people to deceive him with the world in chaos. There were much bigger priorities then currency after all. He turned and headed for the communal tent, setting a brisk pace as he strode in, the tent flaps flapping open as he pushed himself into the tent, stopping at the entrance to take in the view. His gaze landed on Azalea, who was eyeing him out of the corner of her gaze, her head angling slightly towards him, before his gaze slowly traveled to Aurelie, then Aria, before traveling over to the gang, specifically landing on Annabel and then Cal, his face lined, his faint, distant smile betraying his expression before it disappeared within seconds as if it was never there at all. At his usual brisk pace he strode past both tables, the soldiers visibly straightening as he passed and relaxing when his gaze left them, his gaze piercing each man before he seated himself with the higher ranking officers and commanders of the rebellion, a silent man amoungst the table.


Xanto FrostFire SandraDeelightful Blackrose7 Bakuyoshi ShadowBroker​

 

[Xanto]

Raymond Callahan, Clyde Callahan, and Baxter Callahan​

Raymond smiled a bit when he shook the princess's hand. Oddly enough, it seemed a bit out of character that Aria wasn't staring at him head on as usual. Hm, maybe she thought I was someone else? The man thought to himself as he coolly returned his hand to his side. It didn't take long for Clyde to suddenly pipe up about Raymond's more low key occupation. In which case, Ray glanced at his proud nephew before looking at Aria just in time to see her almost amused reaction. "Finish your stew will ya?" He mentioned wrapping an arm around Clyde and playfully pinching the kid's cheek with his other hand. Thoughts about telling stories of his uncle's magic tricks were running through the nephew's mind until he felt the light pinch. In turn, the boy hastily scooped up the last remains of his share of stew from the bowl, took it in all in one bite, and flicked a thumbs up at Ray. A rapid sequence of actions that was only greeted by his uncle's own thumbs up in return. Yep, that was Clyde's version of a "vanishing act."

Soon enough, Aria's voice caught Raymond's attention this time asking him about the tricks he was capable of performing. "Usual production and vanish," He casually lowered his arm away from Clyde not really making a big deal out of the tricks.

Those were only two of his three main trick types, but he didn't really feel the need to elaborate at the moment. After all, magic was about watching and not explaining. This response probably made Raymond sound like a boring ol' stage act, but his acts were far from the traditional ones. His own style was manufactured by uniting his magic tricks, cleverness, rogue methods, and combat background making his tricks unique. The rest of the group would of course see his talent in due time.

Raymond simply nodded in understanding when Aria stated that her father thought magic shows were distractions. It wasn't too long ago when Baxter was trying to pull the guy away from his hobby as well. "I'll show you three a few tricks when ya least expect them," Raymond smirked at the three redheaded princesses sitting side by side in response to Aria's comment.

Meanwhile, Baxter had been observing the whole meal interaction in silence. He knew about his brother's skills and inwardly admitted that he hadn't been too fond of the distraction himself. Though, his brother truly did have a knack for magic tricks. For two brothers who were only four years apart and raised in the same household, it was almost difficult to tell that they had completely different lives. The rebellion leader's blue gaze shifted around the table before landing on the oddly silent Princess Azalea slouching forward and looking at his brother.

Raymond tilted his head a bit at Azalea's side comment about Aria's love for magicians. It was confusing since her cousin just said that she never got to see a magician in action.

However, he did take note of Azalea's sudden mood change before raising a brow and glancing at Aria for answers. "What do you mean?" Clyde asked leaning back in his seat to peer at the bruised up redhead seated a handful of people away from him. Even if the boy was knowledgeable about the Shades settling upon the land, Raymond had used his tricks to instill a sense of hope for the kid during the dark time.

"Meaning to say, you have traveled with your group without knowing any of their names?" Baxter seemingly questioned out of nowhere more pointedly toward his younger brother. In reality, he was trying to save Azalea from any potential awkward explanation toward his son. Also, it was quite uncharacteristic of Ray to lack any introduction. The younger brother froze when Baxter landed the sudden question. "As ya know, my formal introductions come after spontaneous interactions," Ray said standing up and confidently walking over to Azalea and Aurelie, "That way they have more of an impact." It wasn't his intention though to hold it off for more than five hours. Raymond extended his hand out to Azalea with a slight smile, "Raymond Callahan, Ezerisian with the chewed up map." His words alluding to the earlier spontaneous event that prompted him to tag along with the rest of the group in the first place. Shortly after, he looked over to the silent princess next to them who definitely seemed like she was struggling to accept life as it was. "Raymond Callahan, welcome to our new humble abode," He calmly put his hand out to her as well.

Ms. Sparrow FrostFire SandraDeelightful

 

[FrostFire]

Morag 'Aria' MacLaird

Spoiler: Images

Aria couldn't help but smile as she watched Clyde and Raymond interact, eating the last few mouthfuls of her own stew as she observed. When he answered her question, she had absolutely no idea what he meant by 'production and vanish', but nodded politely anyway. Did he mean he could make things disappear and reappear? She supposed she would find out. She rolled her eyes when he smirked, Aria was a very, very difficult person to surprise, so she doubted he would manage to catch her unawares, but she looked forward to it nonetheless.
Aria laughed when Azalea piped up, glaring playfully at her cousin before looking away as she spoke. "You're such a tease, Lea! If you aren't careful you'll put ideas in his head." She looked back at Azalea, and the grin on her own face died down as she saw her cousin's expression, and heard what she said.
Aria could guess what Azalea was referring to. She knew the Shades had come from Calore, and that her cousin likely knew how all of this had started.... But such a memory would cause so much pain that Aria knew she couldn't ask about it, not yet.
She glanced over at Clyde as he asked what Lea had meant, and opened her mouth to create some sort of distraction, but before she could speak Baxter chimed in and diverted attention away from Azalea's comment. Aria looked at him gratefully with a small nod of thanks, before she placed a hand on her cousin's shoulder, showing her silent support through the gesture.
Her hand left her cousin's shoulder when Raymond approached, she couldn't help the amused expression on her face, her eyebrow raised as she watched him introduce himself. She knew without looking that Azalea's expression would likely mirror hers, they had always been similar, to the point where they could have been easily mistaken for sisters or even twins. The Windfore blood was strong in both of them, regardless of Aria's last name.
She rolled her eyes as Raymond introduced himself a third time, laughing as he did so. "If you intend to introduce yourself to every individual in this tent, we'll be here all night." She smirked, "Or are you only making the acquaintances of the pretty girls?" She teased, knowing plenty of women would love to shake his hand.
Luther had no shortage of women swooning after him, but he had been oblivious to them all. As he had put it, he had eyes for only one woman... Her heart hurt as she thought about him, but her pain only showed outwardly in her eyes.
Her food finished, Aria swivelled in her seat and leant back against the table, stretching her legs out. She would let her food go down and then she would head off to do her training. In the meantime, she intended to continue chatting and enjoying the company she was with, even if one reminded her of someone she would rather not think about.

Xanto Ms. Sparrow SandraDeelightful

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Azalea Eve Windfore

“What do you mean?” The small boys question barely registered within her as she zoned out on the cold stew in front of her, her mind shifting to a distant memory.

~~
Tap. Tap. Clinkety tap-tap.

It had been two weeks since the girls had last danced due to the rules of mourning, and Azalea lay in bed, awake again. A dream hadn’t roused her this time, but rather an odd tinny noise that had been clinking across the wooden floor of their room, under their beds and butting against the wainscot with a clinkety tap-tap. It sounded like…well, quite honestly, it sounded like a spider dragging a spoon.

Azalea knew it couldn’t possibly be that (or, rather, she hoped it wasn’t), but even so, she heaved herself from the bed and grasped one of Isis’s boots, strewn across the floor. The tapping now clinked from the fireplace, and Azalea caught a glint of silver among the soot. Raising the boot, she tiptoed to the unlit hearth.

The fireplace in their room was massive—so large that Azalea could stand up in it and her skirts wouldn’t brush the sides. The silver hopped. Azalea dove.

In a puff of soot, Azalea found herself sitting in the hearth, and the silver bit skittering away like mad. Azalea grabbed at it and was rewarded with a very sharp, very familiar bite.

“You!” Azalea seethed, leaping up. Now she recognized the half-hopping half-skitter motion. The sugar teeth! Azalea sprang and laid a heavy foot on the teeth. They struggled beneath her bare foot like a mouse in a trap.

Still in the hearth, soot streaking her nightgown, Azalea grasped the sugar teeth tightly, so they wouldn’t nip her, and examined them. They had been dented and were now black with soot. Azalea wondered what they were doing about, wandering the palace on their own. Normally they wouldn’t leave sight of the rest of the magic tea set in the kitchen, clanking against the cream bowl and flicking sugar cubes at anyone who happened to pass by. Come to think of it, Azalea hadn’t seen that tea set for several months, at least. She leaned against the fireplace brick wall, wondering where it had gone.

And then she pulled away from the fireplace wall, because the brick her shoulder had leaned against was curiously uneven. Forgetting the sugar teeth—which hopped out of her hand and skittered away—she traced her fingers over the etching. It was hardly visible in the dim light, and covered in soot. In fact, because of the shape of the mantel, unless one actually stood in the fireplace, one wouldn’t see it.

Azalea’s heart pounded against her nightgown. She brushed the soot away from the brick. Her fingers shook. The form of the etching grew discernible— the initials SC were carved perfectly into the brick, though faint and worn by the ages.

A magic passage. Of course, there were many leftover in the palace from the Dark Ages, so she heard, all of which were unechanted and were now broom closets or closed off entirely due to the Kings orders. But she was positive this one hadn’t been found, and also pretty sure this one was a simple storage space, but it was an exciting find nonetheless.

Azalea stared at the wall. Her heart beat in her ears.

A magic passage! In their room! She tried to remember everything she’d read about the Dark Ages relating to passages, and the rumor is she’d heard from the servants. The King used them as storage rooms now, yes, but, well, magic was magic! Azalea wondered how large this room was. If it didn’t have too many trunks or boxes about the sides, could it possibly be large enough to—​

Azalea curled her toes in the soot, aching to leap in the air.

How had the books said to open one? Rubbing silver on it. Well, that was fortunate! Azalea cast her eyes about for the silver teeth and found them sitting at the edge of the rug.

“Come along,” she said, in her nicest whisper. “I won’t hurt you.”

The sugar teeth skittered away.

“You rotten little—” Azalea started to go after them, before she felt something cool slide from around her neck and fall to the floor with another clink.

The silver glimmer of the necklace always caught her off guard. A light tingling sensation washed over her, and Azalea bent down and picked up Ana’s necklace, smiling. Ana had this made years ago, embroidered with her initials and the metal of the royal family. It was actual silver.

Stepping back into the hearth, Azalea touched the handkerchief to the SC mark. She paused, wholly unsure of what it would do. Even so, excitement tickled her fingers. She rubbed the necklace against the brick.

At first, nothing happened. Azalea’s arm grew tired. Half a minute of rubbing, and just as she was about to give up, the mark grew warm. Then hot, she felt the metal warm until it glowed red-hot in second and burned her fingertips, Azalea pulled away sharply.

The SC symbol glowed silver. Azalea gasped. The mortar around the bricks began to shine, spreading the molten silver light to the other bricks, so bright that Azalea shielded her eyes. The silver seeped across the wall to form a tall arch edged with glowing swirls and leaves.

The light burst.

~~
Azalea jumped, visibly startled as she flinched when Aria’s hand touched her shoulder, but did not pull away, recognizing the gesture for what it was. She glanced up, forcing a shaky wry grin at her cousin, a corner of her lips turned up weakly, putting as much spirit into it as she usually did, putting up another brave face, though her face was drained of all color, she hated feeling vulnerable and weak, and she visibly straightened, pushing her grief and fear down. Hopefully it’d stay down.

She wanted to tell Aria everything as much as she didn’t. But even if she found a way to tell her, her oath would never let her.

Her expression did indeed match Aria’s as Raymond got out of his seat, arching a thin red eyebrow in amusement as he approached, color returning to her face as she visibly relaxed again. Azalea snorted in laughter as he made a reference to the chewed up map. She stared at his hand, hesitant for the slightest of seconds before she took it with an lighthearted grin and lightly shaking it, only doing so to lessen the pain in her wrist. Then he moved on to Aurelie and this time a full fledged laugh came out of Azalea at Aria’s jest. “No sudden movements, she might run away.” Azalea said to Raymond with a grin, another jest pointed in Aurelie’s direction before Azalea turned back in her seat and forced down a mouthful of now-cold stew, despite her lacking appetite.

Xanto FrostFire SandraDeelightful
​

​

 

[SandraDeelightful]

Princess Aurelie Beauchamp of Aubigine

​

As Aurelie ate, it was very clear to see that she was awkward and uncomfortable. She sat and ate with her back straight as she had been taught, as well as with the help of a corset. As one man held out his hand and introduced himself as Raymond Callahan, Aurelie accepted his hand with a slight mumble of "How do you do?"

She hoped that she didn't sound cold or rude to him. Though, she knew she probably did. She never meant to. She was just nervous. At Azalea's comments, Aurelie's cheeks turned bright red. She always scared easily, she knew that. She also blushed easily. Sudden moves would scare her off. She had been taught to fear everything, and trust the words of her advisers. She didn't know how to live without them. She tried to ignore the dig Azalea had made at her, taking a few more spoonfuls of stew. She had to admit, Azalea's comments were starting to get at her. Then again, she new how to stomach them. She knew people in her country called her simple-minded, stupid, frivolous. She simply took it in her stride.

FrostFire Xanto Ms. Sparrow

 

[Ms. Sparrow]

Azalea Eve Windfore


Azalea was, once again disappointed with Aurelie’s lack of reaction. She really had been taught to just...take it all. It was like she wasn’t ever taught to be complete, like someone else had to do all the fighting for her. She reminded her of Karliah, who had much similar, quieter personality traits. Karliah rarely got angry and when she did it was both amusing and frightening. If Aurelie would just fight back, really, anything, it’d show she could at least learn. Men easily bullied girls like her. She didn’t know Aurelie, but she was a princess and if they actually survived this, Aurelie would firstly need to know how to fight back, and secondly, rule a kingdom without a man. Good people were on short supply lately.

She felt the weariness sink into her bones, dragging her down. Sleep threatened to pull her into another world entirely. She pushed the stew aside and spun around on the bench and stood, yawning, or rather forcing a yawn to excuse herself.

“Alright,” Azalea said, brushing some dirt off her white sleeves before itching her cheek.”I’m off to bed,” she said simply, turning and walking towards the tent entrance, she pushed open the tent flaps, “Toodle pip!” She called, waving back with some of her usual spirit in her tone. But it was fake. Most of it was these days.

Every footstep was a drag in the dirt, and the wall to the tent felt endless as the stars twinkled overhead and the torches lit the camp around them. The only sound echoing throughout the camp was the noise in the communal tent and a few chatters from passing soldiers here and there. The otherworldly noises from the forest added some peace to it all. The chirp of a cricket, the flapping wings of a bat passing overhead, the call of a wolf to its pack. It was beautiful. But it was still relatively silent. She missed the noise already.

She took her bedroll from Wind-Cleaver’s saddle as she passed before she wearily crawled into Aria’s tent and set up her bedroll against the left side of the tent. As she kicked off her boots and nestled deeply into her bedroll, she thought of what was, and what could’ve been and happier times, and she found herself thinking back to the first time she discovered the pavilion, when the light burst from the passage.

~~

It took several moments for Azalea to be able to see again. When she could, her breath was stolen. The fireplace wall had transformed to an arched doorway, edges glowing with ivied curls and leaves. A thin curtain of silver sheen billowed gently in the archway, gossamer drapery in a slight breeze.

A tink tink tappety startled Azalea, and she found the soot-covered sugar teeth at her feet. They leaped up and tugged on the hem of her skirt.

“Oh, now you want to come?” said Azalea.

The teeth hopped around madly.

“Oh…very well. But you have to behave.” Azalea scooped them up into her pocket, threw hesitations aside, took a deep breath, and stepped into the glowing, glimmering silver.

It felt as though she had stepped into a silver waterfall, ice cold, washing over her head and shoulders. An inside-of-a-teapot smell suffocated her. Another step, and Azalea inhaled a breath of fresh air. Shivering, she shook away the tendrils of twinkling light and rubbed her arms.

She stood on a small wooden landing, about the size of the fireplace. In front of her, stairs curved downward. Azalea swallowed, pressed her hand against the brick wall, and began to descend. The rickety wood creaked underneath her bare feet, and darkness enveloped her. Her hands shook as she felt her way about. She wished she had brought the lamp.

A hard, scuffing sound shattered the silence. Azalea cried out.

“Stop, stop, stop,” came a voice from above her. “Really, Az, you’re as bad as Hale!”

Light filled the passage, and relief flooded through Azalea as Violet emerged around the corner, holding Hale and with an expression written all of her face, a hint of scolding in her eyes. Azalea grinned wryly, light shining in her eyes with excitement.

With more thumphing and scuffing down the creaky stairs, all seven of Azalea’s sisters appeared around the bend, sleep in their feet, but mouths open and faces alight. Karliah was the only one with enough sense to bring the lamp.

“The room burst with light,” said Violet. “It was like waking to a sunrise—and we haven’t seen that in months. Az…the fireplace wall—”

“I know,” said Azalea. “Can you believe it?”

The girls huddled closer to Azalea, and as they crowded about the lamp, she told them about the books she read and what they said about magic passages. She told them about the sugar teeth, escaped from the kitchen cabinet and caught in their room, and using the silver handkerchief to open the wall. The girls’ eyes, already wide, grew wider with fascination.
“I should have woken you all,” said Azalea when she finished. “I was too eager to wait, I suppose. But I’m glad the passage stayed open for you. Is it still?”

“No,” said Isis. “It’s solid now.”

“The mark is on this side, too,” said Azalea. “I suppose we’ll give it a rub when we need to get out.” She shivered, looking at the brick around her. “I wouldn’t want to be trapped in this place.” Violet moved in front of all them, taking her place in front protectively on yet another adventure.

“Where does it lead?” said Delilah.

Violet peered into the darkness, into the curve of more stairs. “Probably just a storage room, but it might have bits of magic left to it, like the tower. Want to find out?”

“Yes!”

Karliah handed Violet the lamp, and Violet led them down the stairs, holding it high. The staircase descended much farther than she expected, and only after several lengthy minutes did the passage lighten. They turned the next curve, revealing an archway below. A soft, silver light emanated from it. Azalea’s brows furrowed. Bright moonlight? Indoors?

The girls stayed back as Violet descended to the doorway. Hands quavering, she leaned against the edge and looked. Azalea followed and did the same. Azalea stepped back, dumbfounded.

The scene washed over Azalea like a crystal symphony. A forest.

Every bough, branch, leaf, and ivied tendril looked as though it had been frosted in silver. It shimmered in the soft, misty light.
Azalea inhaled, catching the muted scent of a morning fog, with a touch of pine, and stepped through the doorway into the bright forest. Everything sparkled in bits, catching highlights in glisters as she moved. Even the path beneath her feet. She turned to a glass-spun tree on her left. Silver ornaments glowed among the delicate silver leaves—glimmering glass plums. Azalea touched one. Its edging glittered as it swayed. Next to the ornament, strings of pearls swathed each branch in swooping arcs.

“It’s so beautiful,” whispered Delilah. The girls had followed Azalea and Violet through the doorway, their voices hushed.

“Like winter, when the snow’s just fallen,” Jasmine whispered.

“Or…the Yuletide trees,” said Karliah.

Azalea thought it looked a mix of all of them—the gardens, the palace, and the Yuletide—all mixed into one and dipped in silver.

“Vi, what is this place?” Azalea looked up, gaping. The tallest of the silver trees disappeared into a mist.
​

“I think it’s the palace,” Violet managed to say.

Azalea arched a thin red eyebrow, grinning. “Not our boot-blackened palace! No wonder we were never told about this passage—we’d never come back up!”

Violet nodded in agreement as Azalea touched a swath of ribbon and pearls, feeling the knobbly string between her fingers. She hadn’t expected to find so much magic, and all beneath their room!

The girls slowly walked down the path; everything was quiet, muffled, as though in a snowfall. Every so often, Azalea reached out to touch a silver-white branch or a teardrop ornament, just to remind herself she wasn’t dreaming.

Ahead, the silver branches of a large willow tree curtained the end of the path. Nearing it, they heard the tinkling of a music box playing faintly in the air. Quiet as it was, all the girls looked about them, eyebrows raised. When they drew closer, the timbre of the music changed. It became fuller, fleshing to a soft three-quarter-time orchestral melody. Azalea’s feet itched to twirl.
It’s coming from beyond the willow,” Isis whispered.

Azalea stepped to the glistening silver leaves. She slipped her hand between the branches and parted them.

The girls gasped.

The path did not end. It rose into a dainty arched bridge, leading to the center of a silver-lilac pond. The water cast dancing white reflections all about the bridge.

And, at the end of the bridge, silver vines curling over white latticework and reaching to the top of its domed roof, stood a pavilion. Filled with dancers!
​

Ladies, dressed in bright silks and chiffons billowing with each step. They spun and twirled, their colorfully dressed partners taking their hands and sweeping them into the dance.

Azalea pulled away from the willow branches, and they fell back into place. How long was this here?

“Let’s get out of here,” said Violet. “We shouldn’t be here.” She looked both concerned and frightened.

“What?” cried the girls.

“I beg your pardon,” said Azalea. “We shouldn’t be here? What about them? Cutting about in our palace? Why weren’t we jolly well invited?”

“Who are they?” Karliah stammered.

“I don’t know,” said Violet. “But it doesn’t feel right.”

“I want to get a closer look!” said Isis, and she pushed past Violet, through the willow leaves before Violet could even start to grab her back.

“Me, too!” cried Hyacinth.

Violet grasped her arm, but Hyacinth writhed free and ran after Isis. In a rush, all the girls ran past Violet, including Azalea, disappearing through the willow leaves. A panicked, Violet dove through the silver after them, over the arched bridge. Looking relieved however, when she saw the girls didn’t leap up the pure white stairs to the dance floor, but instead scampered into the bushes about the outside, making them rustle with a faint clinking sound. Violet only had a moment of shock before Azalea burst from the silver leaves, grabbed Violet about the waist, and yanked her in. The girls grinned down at Violet.

“Just like old times,” said Azalea, grinning and pulling Violet partly up. “We’ll call this one the Great Leftover Soris Calistair Magic Scandal.”
​

“How about the Great We’re Going To Get Caught Scandal?” Violet whispered crossly.

“Oh, do stop whining,” said Isis as they nudged her to the edge of the pavilion among the foliage, abloom with silver roses and pearls. “Have you ever seen such dancing in all your life?”

Kneeling up and peeking through the lattice with Violet, Azalea’s grin widened. She inhaled the scene like a sugar dessert. The ladies wore dresses she only dreamed of, brocade and gold trim, with towering white plumed wigs. The gentlemen wore frilled cravats about their necks and brightly colored waistcoats. Nothing like the conservative, boring black suits of Calore gentlemen.

“Are they real?” Hyacinth whispered. “It feels almost…hollow.”

The girls ducked as a couple swished near the ledge. The lady’s massive skirts should have caused a breeze, but Azalea felt nothing.
​

“Magic,” she whispered.

“Magic or not,” Isis whispered, “we really should have been invited to this. It’s our palace, after all.”
​

Azalea felt a tug on her nightgown sleeve and found Hyacinth pointing with insistence to the dessert table at the far side of the pavilion. It had been set with iced buns, treacle tarts, candied plums, chocolate-dipped strawberries, linen napkins with lace at the edges. A dark-gloved hand plucked one of the napkins from the pile, and Azalea’s heart stopped.

A gentleman stood there, by the table. He was dressed all in black. Not boring black, but dashing black. One so smooth that stars would have gotten lost in it. He wore a costume of a long waistcoat and a sweeping cloak that brushed the edge of the marble.
It complemented his face, a specter of high cheekbones with hints of long dimples. His midnight hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, and his eyes—even across the distance—blazed pure black. Azalea had never seen anyone so…beautiful.


While Azalea stared, the gentleman took the lacy napkin in his long fingers and ripped it in half. With ease, as though it was made of paper. He doubled up the pieces, halved them again, then again, until they were just tiny bits. Then he raised his hands to his lips, and blew.


The pieces fluttered, transforming into sparkling bits of snow, swirling over the dancers. The girls sighed in awe.

“Who is he?” whispered Hyacinth and Jasmine at the same time.

“No idea,” Azalea whispered. “But he’s real.”

The gentleman’s eyes swept over the scene and, in a fleeting moment, stopped on the lattice the girls peeked through. On Azalea.

Azalea’s heart jumped in her throat, and she ducked into the bushes, pressing up against the side of the pavilion. She waited for her heartbeat to slow down enough that she could distinguish the beats from one another, then dared another peek through the lattice.

This time, her eyes met black boots. She bit back a gasp and craned her neck.

The gentleman was leaning on the railing, looking into the distance. He hadn’t seen them! Azalea covered Hale’s tiny mouth as they all stared up at him, frozen.

The gentleman released a sigh. A long, sad sigh, as though torn from the depths of his soul. Then, abruptly, he walked away. The girls exhaled.
That,” whispered Azalea, “was close.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Violet whispered, more firm than the last time.

This time no one argued. They crawled to the bridge and were nearly to the steps, when Azalea glanced up at the dancers one last time—

And saw Hyacinth among them.

She stood just next to the dessert table and had helped herself to a plate, a napkin, and every goody she could reach. She beamed as she piled cream bun after chocolate roll on her already-stacked plate. No one had noticed her, either, not even the gentleman, who stood at the other side of the pavilion, taking a dancer’s hand. Her small white-nightgowned form blended in with the tablecloth.

“Oh, no,” whispered Isis. “No no no!”

“Blast it, Ivy, do you always have to eat?” seethed Azalea.

Violet stood as high as she dared and tried to catch Hyacinth’s eye. It seemed to take hours. Hyacinth hummed and licked her lips and picked up a dough ball that had rolled off her plate.

When Ivy did finally look over at the entrance, Violet motioned desperately. Hyacinth blinked, nodded at Violet, set her plate on the floor, took the hem of her nightgown, and brought it up so it made a basket. Her chubby little legs skipped to the table, where she proceeded to gather enough food in her nightgown to share with all of them.

“No, Ivy, no,” Violet moaned. “That was a come here motion!”

And then Hyacinth, her skirt heavy and swinging with foodstuffs, walked straight across the dance floor.

“They might not see her,” whispered Isis. “They might not. She’s small enough—”

The dancers screamed.

Skirts rustled, heels clattered against the marble, masking the entrance. The music-box orchestra clicked and ground to a stop, as though something had caught in the gears. In all the frenzy and billow of skirts, Azalea heard Hyacinth’s tiny five-year-old voice cry:

“Lea!” “Violet!”

Azalea sprung.

“Get them over the bridge!” she yelled to Violet. The girls untangled themselves from the bushes, tripping over one another as they fled. Azalea leaped up the pavilion stairs and shoved her way through the dancers, who screamed again. Hyacinth stood in the middle of the floor, clutching her nightgown hem to her chest, her chin quivering.

Azalea skidded to Hyacinth and grabbed her around the middle, scattering tarts everywhere. Hyacinth let out a cry. Azalea ran. Her soot-streaked nightgown flapped against her legs and her hair streamed out behind her as she dashed to the entrance. The dancers backed away—

—and disappeared.

“My lady! Wait!”

Azalea rushed down the stairs and stumbled to the bridge.

“Please, my lady!”​

She careened into the girls at the arch of the bridge, and they scrambled to find their footing.

“If you don’t stop, I’ll make you stop.”


Azalea dared a glance back at the gentleman. Kneeling on the stairs, he dipped a gloved hand into the water.


A rushing, gushing pouring rumbled through the mist.

The girls shrieked as water streamed and frothed over the lower ends of the bridge. They fled back to the middle arc, water surging past the willow branches and lapping at their heels. In just seconds, the lake rose to the top of the pavilion stair, enveloping the silver rosebushes and locking the girls on the bridge’s arched center.

The water settled. The willow branches floated. The girls huddled to Violet and Azalea.

“I said please.” The gentleman stood. He was breathless, pale, as though he had exerted himself to sickness. He leaned against the doorway lattice, panting. “Aren’t you supposed to do what I say, when I say please?” He removed his wet glove, finger by finger, then wrung it out. Drops plinked into the lake.

“This is my only pair,” he said. “I do hope you’re happy.”

Azalea opened her mouth to stammer out an apology, or a cry, or anything, but the words caught in her throat. The younger girls clung to her and Violet’s nightgown skirts. The gentleman, still breathless, eased into a smile, and then into the most graceful bow Azalea had ever seen. His arm swooped behind him.

He laughed as he straightened. “My ladies,” he said. “Do forgive me. Did I frighten you? Oh, dear, I must have. Look at you, all huddled together like that.”

The girls kept their mouths clamped shut.

“You’re pale as pearls,” said the gentleman. His voice was smooth as chocolate. “You must forgive me. Only it is the first time I have seen real people since the High King Soris.”

~~

Azalea was interrupted from her thoughts as a pair of soldiers with booming laughs stumbled by her tent, laughing loudly enough to wake the whole damn rebellion. She felt sleep begin its pull and her las thoughts were of Luther, her sisters, and every other dead man, woman, and child she’d seen on the trip here. And when sleep overtook her, she was not suprised she dreamt of him yet again.

~~
5:36 A.M. - Rebellion Encampment


Azalea stirred only thirty-minutes before everyone was supposed to wake up. Or so she was told. Training began at 6:00 A.M. Granted, she only got to sleep till 8:00 A.M. at the palace for lessons and breakfast, but the two hour difference was something she still couldn’t get used.

She was roused by the dreams again however. Always felt so real, and always in the Calore Palace. She remembered every one, and every conversation clearly. She stared at ceiling of the tent, wondering, asking, how it all came to be. There were questions unanswered. Things she-they-needed to know. Now that they were relatively safe, it was time to try and find them.

She quietly slipped from her bedroll and nearly jumped back in as the icey, bitter chill of the North hit her bare legs, only sleeping in her undergarments, and the only shirt she owned, the long-sleeved button down white shirt provided little warmth. She slid into her leather pants and boots before silently exiting the tent, careful not to wake both Aurelie and Aria. She’d have to make a point to get something warmer. Even a uniform would suffice. Her loss of weight wasn’t helping.

The sky was lit in a light bluish-pink hue, the stars barely visible as the sky lightened in the early dawn, the sun hadn’t yet peaked over the North’s hills, but it would soon enough. When she breathed out she could see her breath and she didn’t understand how her cousin could enjoy living in such cold weathers, such a different climate compared to the open fields and spring-like temperatures of the Midlands, it would be a hard transition.

A few early-rising soldiers were up, wandering about their daily duties or chatting quietly were scattered about the camp but other than that, most it seemed were still sleeping. Azalea ran her hands through her long red hair as she walked for the waterfall on the outskirts of the camp, running them through until her hair was silky soft and she worked it back into a long braid that ran down her slender back.

It was a bit of a trek downhill through the trees, a ten-minute walk at most, although it probably would have been a five-minute walk if she hadn’t gotten lost. At least she knew how to find it. She came upon a large, deep pond, or what could have been considered a small lake, which opened up just the opposite of Azalea, and judging by the faint, distant sound of rushing water, it was supplied by a nearby river, and was most likely as cold as the far North’s frigid snowy mountains that she’d heard of. Still, it was a calming, relaxing and very much secluded place, surrounded by the many evergreens and maples of the North. She stood on the bank of the lake, her toes itching to give a twirl with the newfound seclusion. She doubted anyone would come bathe this early in the morning anyway. The water was freezing no doubt.

She found a large flat, slick stone nearby, the lake water lapping against the sleek stone. Removing both boots and socks, it was no suprise the stone was cool on her bare feet. Azalea set her boots down by the rock and curtsied deeply to her reflection in the dark-blue water , pointing her back toe, lifting her arm out. She loved the stretch and pull of her legs when she danced. She lifted herself onto her toes and released into a spin, feeling her loose shirt breeze around her, fixing her view on the a particular evergreen that was no different from the rest across the lake through each turn, her feet turning, her head turning faster, stopping at each rotation as her body swirled beneath her.

~~
(Ack. Long post. The backstory is inspired of a book I read.)
ShadowBroker Xanto FrostFire Blackrose7 SandraDeelightful explosiveKitten Bakuyoshi​

 

[Bakuyoshi]

Cale could not believe what he was doing as he looked at the sleeping Angelo and his sword. In Cales head he had to get an understanding of the weapon. Which is why he took advantage of the peace around here and any possible comfort his guard felt now that they had been able to sleep safely.

Cale quickly and carefully picked the blade up and without a sound crept out of the tent with a blade in hand.

But Cale made a mistake the moment he loosened one of his hands grip on the blade. In only a second Cale felt the awkward weight of the sword force it straight to the ground with an audible thud. And a surprised yelp from the prince as it happened. "Gods that thing is heavier then I imagined. No wonder Angelo is built the way he is. The sword is heavier then it appears... But what about basic momentum?"

Cale grabbed the hilt with both of his hands and made a simple swing. Only for the weight of the sword to yet again cause it to drop to the ground, but unlike last time it was what Cale was looking for.

"Nice and heavy when it comes to a swing that is aimed towards the ground. But I hardly see Angelo making swings like that. But given he is stronger then me and more experienced this swing may be used for practice. In combat this swing must be too risky. A miss from this and you would be potentially stuck while the opponent has the perfect opportunity to end you... Or it's some simple answer and it's just my brain going into overdrive."

explosiveKitten