Tales of the Betrothed (closed)

[Jinxie_Unlucky]

~*Kiya Vaati*~

After helping Chris inside, Kiya noticed that he let her go. His wounds were still pretty bad, but Kiya wasn't sure how to deal with something like that. Cleaning and bandaging it wouldn't be enough. Kiya noticed the other Solorite male helping out the injured Shasta who had suddenly joined their group. Perhaps he'd be able to help better than she would. She was about to ask if he would when he was done with Traiho, but Cat seemed to have it covered already.

"Cat, is that you?"

Kiya looked over at the Shasta. She didn't recognize him, so he must've known Cat longer than she had. It wasn't saying much since Kiya had only known her for three years, but Cat had never really hinted that she had other friends. It had seemed like she was used to abandonment back then. Their shared love of dance convinced the girls to start working together, and from there, the two had been pretty good friends... up until that night in Dradecus.

This other Shasta, though, how did he know Cat? Kiya was certainly curious now, especially since Cat seemed to be pretending she didn't know him, or maybe she'd forgotten about him, but there was definitely a lack of familiarity on Cat's part.

"So you do have other friends," she said to Cat with a smile, though her tone was fairly neutral. She turned to Traiho. "My name's Kiya. Cat and I used to dance together. You are...?"

When Cat requested water--or liquor--and a needle and thread, Kiya thought she sounded a bit too unsure. Maybe I should ask Aleksi, she thought. Reriic's entrance, however, made that unnecessary. After a quick exchange with Jean, he took to healing Chris. At least everyone was helping each other out instead of bickering nonstop now.

[Laser Rain]

Christopher Metus

is eyes blinked around and then his hand shot right down to his pack. His fingers pulled out a scarf he often wore, but that was easily replaced while his blood... Not so much. He laced it lightly around his chest, making sure to line it up precisely with his beautifully torn open side. He dropped it in a loose loop so he could pull out some of the shards of... Bug abdomen he guessed? It wasn't pleasant but luckily it also wasn't too cluttered. His hands had a slight bit of trembling surfacing in them, and if he was from anywhere with a less cool climate he may have been shaking. Pale grey hand dropped bloody splinters to the ground. "Looks like us injured are causing a bit of commotion." He laughed, which turned to cough, which led to a small bit of blood.

His fingers tried to wipe the blood away, but since they were covered as well it seemed mostly pointless. Back up the scarf went, as he pulled it as tight as he could. ”I haven’t lost so much blood in a long time.” A grin and a pained laugh filled him once more. His head tipped back with a grin, blood showed in his teeth. It was funny; the negative man took so much pride in his injury. He wondered if this was how the butcher felt when he gutted him. Slowly draining but not being able to stop it. Following up, he waved his hand. It looked more like a red blob moving through the air. “None of that ‘sir’ business, I’m intelligent, not noble. Also, liquor would be better used as a drink.” The pain wasn’t awful, but he didn’t exactly enjoy it either. The defeatist doubted his death would be coming in the next short bit, but his helplessness frustrated him to no end. Damnable bugs.

Blood was in the scars around his wrists, left from the harsh metal clamps of his king’s dungeon. Brutality and stupidity went perfectly together, and his king was certainly stupid. This injury was good for him though; mental notes poured in to him and would pour out on to paper later. He wasn’t too pleased right now. A strong king would have heirs and children to be doing this work, or lackeys; he was a god damn sage. Internally he chuckled at the irony, cursing his own god seemed contradictory and unimportant. He would solve his problems one way or another. Stepping towards forgiveness. Some would seek forgiveness while other would simply escape their problems. His job was essentially to take the whole world on his shoulders, and it was trying at times. A mouth of pure white and red opened to speak once more. Although he could tell her motives were clearly not all out of charity, they were still helpful. ”Thank you, for the help with this.” He bowed his head as a sign of both gratitude and weakness.

"Yeah well they'll put that on your tombstone as the last thing that you said. I never wanted to kill a man, like I want to kill you man."
The years of pain boiled over, trading blows across the counter.
And when that devil was down he grabbed for his empty old friend jack.
He caught his eye as he took his last breath and that vice went to his head again and again.
"Dear god what have you done?"

((Don't get shorter on me, damnit! >:c))

[Angst Werewolf]

xxxxxx ♨ Chαndαr Hαrí
{{ The Gradian Smith Mercenary }}
"I am a superstar and I don't care who you are!"

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Location: Laelie- Kanaienman

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It seemed that his hunch to go get Bashirah had paid off. The fire was out, Kunal had calmed down, and the forest was not in danger of being destroyed by a raging Gradian. As much as Chandar would have enjoyed watching the Laelie and its mutated inhabitants die in a blazing inferno, now was probably not the time.

At some point, everyone had managed to make their way into the same building. It was rather crowded, though some of the group didn't mind being smashed up against each other as much as he did. Chandar made his way over to the window, where he occupied himself with sulking and brushing the rest of the ash from his clothes. Reriic was healing some Shastan that had come from somewhere and Jean, along with the "elves with boobs" was going to tend to Kunal's blindness. Part of Chandar wanted to be there, if only to have the chance to cuff Jean for messing up somehow (and there was no doubt that the fish prince would) but after the most recent altercation with Kunal, Chandar found that there was a part of him that just didn't care.

No. No no no. Kunal was his prince, and Chandar was, now that Rohan was dead, the lone guard. He had to care, had to look out for Kunal. Chandar shook his head and raised his hand to rub at his temples. It was then he caught another look at the burn mark on his palm and the smith all but flinched. That had been too close. Had Kunal not been blind or Bashirah too preoccupied with her brother, then there would have no doubt been questions. Why did the fire burn you? Why couldn't you put out the flames?

Chandar snarled in frustration and began to pace back and forth in front of the window. How long was he going to be able to keep this up? And it wasn't just the other Gradians that he had to worry about- anyone who knew anything about Gradians and their lifestyle could easy figure something was amiss with him.

The smith stopped his pacing to glare out the window. For a moment, he just stared at the trees until movement caught his eye. Was it another insect? Chandar shouldered his way over towards the door, one hand on his sword. Stabbing something to death would definitely help him burn off his frustration. But as he flung the door open, he saw that it was not a faerie gone crazy, but a man with a dog. Even from where Chandar was standing, he could tell that the newcomer wasn't in great condition. Even so, the smith drew his blade as he stalked over towards him. "Hey, you!" he called as he neared. "What're you doing here?" Another person to heal. Wouldn't Reriic be pleased.

[0o0gizmo0o0]

x x x x x x x x x ✗ K o r a x Z h a d d a g h

The danger had passed, and eventually everyone found themselves back in the same house. Kora sat in one of the corners, one hand massaging her injured side in an attempt to assuage some of the ache. It was unpleasant, but she did not think she needed a healer. At least... not as immediately as some of the others. When Reriic and Sonya returned, Kora’s eyes were on them. When Jean voiced his thoughts on the two, the princess was surprised that his thoughts so closely matched her own... and that the proximity between the two elves was not just in her head. When her betrothed’s response did nothing to dissuade the Zuleidian, her eyes widened. How... dare he.... Her face took on a momentary scowl, until she wiped it away, and stood back up on her feet. She wondered if she should say anything to Reriic about it... but it just seemed that now, with everything else that was going on... it just wasn’t the right time. But when would it ever be the right time? If it wasn’t one disaster, surely it would inevitably be another. The Shastan did not know what she should do. But she needed to occupy herself with something.

The younger darkness prince had come to play healer, and judging by the look on his face, he was far less than pleased with the role. At the moment, she could care less how ‘pleased’ he was with anything. Their match had been arranged, and neither of them really knew the other, but the very least he could have done was to show perhaps one ounce of restraint. At least out of respect for his future wife, if nothing else. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she knew she needed to to something else to occupy her thoughts. Anything else. It didn’t really matter what. Her eyes found Dalena across the room, with the baby in her arms. She had held the child for some time, and Kora wondered if she was growing tired of the task. Crossing the room towards the Rite of Salor, Kora said, “I can take her for a little while if you would like to rest.” Given, Kora did not know the first thing about children, she still felt compelled to offer some help. After all, people took care of infants all the time. How difficult could it be? A lopsided smile lifted one side of the princess’s mouth.


OOC: Fail post, Yay!

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[Cherzooka]

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Small houses lined the streets, abandoned of any faerie life. Eston lowered his weapon slightly. There seemed to be no immediate threats in the area and if there were something to show up his faithful companion would alert him. It was what she was trained to do after all. To make up for his lack of ability to notice immediate threats. He noticed a lack of any noise aside from his own and the sound of forest creatures. Mostly bugs and insects. Almost entirely bugs and insects. In fact, it could almost be said there was a distinct lack of sounds from other creatures and animals. The smoke coming from nearby had ceased. What had caused it in the first place? And what now stopped it? Certainly not the insects.

Theia growled pulling the scholar from his thoughts. The sounds of footsteps and a voice. A voice questioning him as to what he was doing here. The owner of it didn't appear to be a faery, lacking the visual traits of the species. Unless of course faeries suddenly didn't have wings and such anymore, something he highly doubted. Eston raised his blade defensively. "I could ask the same of you," He really hoped this encounter didn't lead to a fight. He'd easily lose even when he's in his best condition, much less when he's running almost entirely on adrenaline and waning endorphins. Theia stopped her growling at the stranger, to look towards her master with worry. Even she was aware of how weak he was presently.

[[OoC::
Fail post is fail. orz]]


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[SheIsCursedTea]

Elya || Meister
|| Royal Guard to the Princes of Dradecυѕ ||

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Elya looked around as Cin appeared, still looking rather sober. "Cin, as your guard, I would ask where you have been, but I think I know and I take it your search was unsuccessful." She sighed, and shook her head. Then, she handed him a small flask. "It's not strong, and there is not much. Your father gave this to me, as he knew you would be feeling it. When this is gone, there is none left, so please just bare that in mind before you guzzle it all up at once." Then, her serious expression melted into a kind smile as she released the flask and turned away. "Oh, and please don't wander off again. Awfully hard to do my job if both brothers keep on running off in opposite directions." Then, she heard the comment 'Elves with the breasts' and turned to Jean Baptiste. He was holding some sort of medicine and was stood near Kunal.

She turned to Reriic as he addressed her, ignoring the other prince for a moment. Though Reriic waved his question off, she decided to answer anyway. "You were resting, and I wanted to let Cin have a wander, so I just entered the first house I saw. I tried to strike up conversation, if you will, which I think was the beginning of his lost temper. Hmm, I cannot think why. I was nothing but nice to him. Anyway, please excuse me. Me and my breasts seem to be needed with the moody prince." She flashed Reriic a slight smile, before wandering over to Jean Baptiste and the Gradians. She tilted her head to the side, glancing briefly at Kunal, before looking at Jean Baptiste. "Is there some way in which you think I can be of assistance?" She was confused, and presumed that Kunal would not be to happy with the thought of anyone coming near him. He seemed to be the type of person who perpetually hated everyone and everything around him.

Elya glanced a look down herself, and frowned at the soot. She took a step away from the crowd, and faced outwards, before patting herself down quickly to try and get as clean as possible. She would have to bathe once everything was sorted, though she was sure she wasn't the only one. Five days riding without proper bathing, she was quite sure that everyone needed, if not wanted, a bath.

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"To serve the Princes of Dradecus
Is the highest of honours
I shall do my bed to serve them well
Or die trying."

[Sierra The Captor]

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take a ℓeap of fαith. I ĸnow wє'ℓℓ makє it.

After a few moments of Annabel following Kunal somewhere, the group was finally assembled, but not without its repercussions. In order to make sure that the Gradian prince came back into the houses, Anna resorted to forceful measures, and had tugged at his shirt and dragged him herself into the house occupied by the group. She tried as best as she could to ignore his twin that had apparently followed behind her as well to avoid bloodshed. She didn’t need another brawl, one fight with her brother was plenty for her to handle.

“I’ll mash the food,” Anna volunteered as she took herself a small club and a hand-carved wooden bowl, dumping a few of the buns that Jean had presented on the table into it. Anna then proceeded to gently cram the food into mush, but to others who were probably watching her actions it looked like she was trying to violently smash the food as though they were alive in her hands. As she was busy mashing it, she watched the caress of the baby that was about to fall from the grasps of Dalena into the Shazgard princess’ soft embrace.

Once she was sure that the bread was liquidized into a soggy texture, Annabel dipped her finger into the food and tasted a few of it, creasing her eyebrows, obviously not satisfied with the taste itself. It was stale. Annabel knew no faerie baby would eat a bland food. Her eyes gazed down for a flower in sight at the corner of the mushroom house, and once she saw a sweet camellia plant that was blooming out of the edge, she grabbed a few of it, throwing the flower into the mash of food and grinding it until they were reduced to a pulp. The camellia plant emanated a sweet smell that coaxed her taste buds.

Annabel turned towards Kora who was about to hold the baby into her arms, grabbing a wooden spoon and giving the bowl of mashed food into Dalena’s hands. She was satisfied with the smell. All faerie babies love sweet food “Here. This is the best I could do,” she said, forcing herself a smile. Her mind drifted elsewhere when Jean proclaimed to a cure for Kunal’s blindness. Burgundy eyes then found her resting onto Bashirah, whose thoughts roamed itself quickly to the task of saving Laelie at hand. The guard dispersed from Kora and Dalena towards the princess.

“Your highness,” she called out, but quietly cornered her so that they were both alone, but within enough distance of the group so that Bashirah did not try to establish a full-on Gradian rage of fiery hatred towards her. Anna knew that the princess was probably the more rational one of the twin from what she saw towards her reprimand of her brother, but it was a safer route. Anna blinked a few times, unsure of what she was about to say once her eyes locked on the princess. Rummaging around her waist until she fingered a sharp object, Anna took it out to show to the princess of what she saw back in Huayuan; the spear wrapped with a red cloth.

“I am quite unsure of how to articulate this in such a way. I myself did not obtain much of the details, and for fear of being wrong I refrained from stating it out loud,” she continued, holding the spear for the princess to see more clearly “I was hoping that you would recognize this spear, who it belonged to,”

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ℓocation |- Mushroom house -| 00C |- Gaaaaaah I FINALLY POASTED. -|

[Ariiadne]

▐░ℬasℎiraℎ░▌
『 ℘rincess oƒ GRADIUS 』

Luckily, Kunal managed to wander, maybe instinctively, towards the rest of the group, and eventually they all found themselves in a quaint cottage built within a mushroom. Bashirah fought off the urge to touch the outer walls, utterly perplexed at the mere idea of a mushroom house, but refrained. Finally, everyone in the group seemed to be reunited once more. She was glad, too; she was getting rather tired, and not just physically. Bashirah watched from a quiet corner as Jean-Baptiste volunteered the help of Sonya and Elya to help administer salve to Kunal’s eyes. She blinked. They weren’t the best of choices (both elves, one of which had insulted him), but she couldn’t have expected Jean to do much better. His ‘breasts’ comment signaled that. In fact, Bashirah deduced he most likely would just want to watch their chests jiggle when Kunal undoubtedly struggled against them.

Nevertheless, Bashirah said nothing. Her eyes lazily wandered to Anna, who prepared some mush for the restless baby. Its cheeks were red and sticky with drying tears, a little bit of snot running like snail trails from its nose to its upper lip. Such a dirty thing. And yet, she pitied it. Her gaze traveled to Dalena’s face, which looked down upon the child as she gently cradled it. Bashirah pondered holding the infant for a time, maybe.

No. No no no no. Gradians could not be trusted with children. Bashirah let her eyes fall back to the floor.

In a daze, Bashirah did not think Anna’s voice, addressing her, was real at first. It wasn’t until she realized the words weren’t stopping that Bashirah snapped back and looked at the faerie guard. Her words were cautious, and Bashirah couldn’t tell if this was because Anna was talking to her, or because of the content of her address. It was when the faerie held out the spearhead wrapped in an all too familiar red cloth, Bashirah’s mouth gaped ever so slightly.

“How,” she breathed, struggling to maintain Gradian apathy, “where did you find this?” She reached out and took it from Anna’s palm. But she could not stop her brow from furrowing as she analyzed the blade more intensely. This was… impossible. Her mind flashed back to Bhegin, seeing this same spear in the hands of her late guard, even on his back as he ran back into the collapsing castle. It should have been lost in the fire and rubble. Bashirah brought it to her nose to smell.

Her nose crinkled and head jerked back at the stark smell of smoke. The cloth was choked with it.

[Angst Werewolf]

xxxxxx ♨ Chαndαr Hαrí
{{ The Gradian Smith Mercenary }}
"I am a superstar and I don't care who you are!"

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Location: Laelie- Kanaienman

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Well, he wasn't quite as dead as he looked. Chandar couldn't decide if he was pleased at that or not. The smith eyed the blade pointed at him and snorted. Did this man really think he was a match for him? Perhaps, had the newcomer not looked like death warmed over, the match would have been even (especially with that dog). But as it was, Chandar was more worried about the hound trying to take off his leg than being stabbed to death. Animals were sneaky, tenacious things, and even a half-starved dog could put up a fight when cornered.

As he neared the pair, Chandar's grip on his sword tightened. The dog had started growling again and the smith fought down the urge to kick the thing. He might need the creature to get answers from this person. Instead, he scowled and made a swiping motion with his sword. "If you must know, I am Chandar Hari, guard to the Mahapatras and here on official business," he stated. "And now, I'll ask again- Who are you and what are you doing here?" As he spoke, Chandar's left arm began to heat, the metal plating turning a bright, angry red. Save for the innocent goldfish back in the house, it'd been days since he last vaporized anything to death.

"I am not in a mood to deal with any stupidity, either. So unless you want a fried husk of a dog, I suggest you talk." Chandar emphasized his point by pointing with his left hand to said dog. The smith was so frustrated that he half-hoped the man would give him some smart-a** response so he could just kill them both and be done with it.

OoC/ Chandar is a terrible person. I feel like a jerk writing this ;___;

[V I V L I O N]

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ADELE MARIE VANADIS

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xxxxxUnsure of what to do with herself now that she was unneeded by Jean's side, she anxiously looked around for some way to busy herself. There was Reriic but he seemed rather irritated at the moment and she wasn't eager about getting on his bad side. And then there was the group with a baby... That was not going to happen. In fact, she cringed just looking at the small wad. It was so small and needy. It kept crying and was so vulnerable. She was scared to death that if she stayed around much longer that she might be asked to take care of it. And dear God, what if it started crying?!

Without waiting for that possibility to even enter anyone else's mind, she quickly bolted out of the door of the dwelling and into the street. However, she stopped short upon seeing Chandar aggressively addressing a stranger. The blonde blinked in confusion, unsure of what to do. Both men had their swords drawn and it was unclear as to who had started the altercation. But like hell was she going to stand there completely defenceless if anything began to go awry. Plus, she just felt completely out of place being the only one without a blade unsheathed. She blamed the whole 'My blade is bigger than yours' mentality. With one fluid motion, she pulled out her own weapon and held it out the ready, her eyes moving between the two men. "What exactly is going on here?"

Adele's eyes landed upon the stranger and took in his appearance. He definitely wasn't some mutant bug, thankfully. Though, perhaps that was even more reason to be wary of him. After all, what the hell was he doing here and how did he even make it this far into the city without being eaten? And what was with the guard dog? She was beginning to increasingly dislike this guy. Perhaps Chandar actually had the right idea. But maybe he was taking it a little too far with how he was pointing at the dog. "How about we all just put away our weapons and talk things out." It was a risky move but there was no doubt in her mind that if needed, Skip and her could take on the newcomer if he was stupid enough to try anything.

I want to go back.
To when I knew who I was.
To when I knew who you were.
And where we stood amongst this wreck.

[Cherzooka]

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The Mahapatras? What was the royal Gradian family doing here? Official business meant it wasn't something like a little vacation. (And why would they want to come here anyways?) Why was he worrying about stuff like that right now anyways. He was being threatened by someone who was very likely trained to fight, and clearly not pleased with his presence if his threats and angry expression were any indication. He noticed a bright, almost glow, coming from the hilt of the man's, Chandar's, weapon.

Eston continued to grip the shortsword, but lowered his weapon slightly. Theia eased on her barking noticing the slightly less hostile stance her owner was taking. she still remained wary herself and ready to defend should she need to. "Eston. I was being held prisoner here." Theia barked at the arrival of another, this time a female. She too didn't appear to be a faery. She did have a sword though as well as an interest in what was going on. She seemed to be on the same side as this Chandar character, as she seemed more hostile towards himself than to the other man. Then she suggested putting away the weapons. Eston liked that suggestion, knowing full well he'd not be able to hold his own in a fight. He slowly lowered his weapon to his side. The weapon not being his own he had no sheath to put it in and he wasn't about to just throw the blade away. Theia lightly rubbed her snout on his free hand, wanting some attention. Despite it being the completely wrong time to be asking for a pat on the head and an ear scratching.

...

She got a semi-reluctant light pat on the head.



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[Musical Stereo]

xxdαlєиα ѕиoωxx

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxRιte oƒ Faιtн ☼

He stumbled INTO faith and thought,
❝God, this is all there is?❞
The PICTURES in his mind arose,
And began to B R E A T H E.

─» Dalena had just followed her large group as they were led by Prince Kunal. During that time, Dalena was mostly preoccupied with the baby, making sure that the little one didn’t start crying and put their lives in danger. Once inside, the Rite of Faith could finally relax. The baby hadn’t started wailing and thankfully she was grateful that she had taken a liking to her. Dalena let her braid down with one hand as she let the young infant play with her long strands of gold hair. She smiled as the youngling took a few strands and started to move her arm, making the strands fly around with her movements. She watched in awe as the young infant seemed to have the time of her life.

She was ignoring everyone in the room, all that matter was the baby. When Princess Kora appeared, she was very shocked. The Princess was offering to hold the baby for her! Her first reaction was to decline, but perhaps she wanted to learn how to hold a child for future mothering purposes? With a big smile Dalena gently passed the infant into Kora’s arms. "Of course, Princess. It’d be my honour." With that reply, the young child was now in Kora’s safe and secure arms and Dalena could finally take a break from being a temporary mother.

Then, Anna was so kind and selfless to start mixing together baby food for the child. Dalena watched from afar as she did so and she was entranced. It was so very interesting to watch Anna create interesting food for the infant. Once the guard was done, she handed it to Dalena. "Thank you so very much Anna." Dalena replied happily as she then turned to Kora, holding the bowl excitedly. "Well, we should start feeding the baby, yes?" She asked, making sure Kora was okay with such measures. She didn’t want to intrude on the princess’ personal space!

[ ooc: finally got a post in!! ]

[Angst Werewolf]

xxxxxx ♨ Chαndαr Hαrí
{{ The Gradian Smith Mercenary }}
"I am a superstar and I don't care who you are!"

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Location: Laelie- Kanaienman

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Adele's appearance surprised Chandar; he would not have expected her to leave the fish prince alone with Kunal. Of course, he wasn't in there with said angry Gradian, so he could hardly fault her. And who could blame someone from wanting to get away from Jean, especially if your job was to watch him to make sure nobody killed him?

Chandar lowered his sword, though his arm did not cool down in the slightest. The newcomer would have to be absolutely mad to try to fight now, and Adele was more than capable with her weapon. They had, after all, killed the sand-beast back in Dradecus. If that didn't prove their aptitude, nothing did.

Eston finally gave his name and Chandar frowned. A prisoner? He had caught a glimpse of the other man that had been dragged in not long ago, and the smith wondered if that one had been a captive, too. He hadn't cared enough to find out any details at the time, but it would certainly explain Eston's half-dead look. The faeries, it seemed, were hardly hospitable people.

His eyes went to the dog as she begged for a pet and the smith frowned. The prisoner story was certainly logical, since with the faeries running around as giant worms, now would be the perfect time for escape. But then, it could be just a cover. "Prisoner, huh? Were you the only one in there?" After a moment's thought, he raised his sword again. "And what did you do to get thrown in jail?" Chandar had a sneaking suspicion that the man was an assassin of some sort. Perhaps the fact that the giant group of royals hadn't been attacked on the road was a little too convenient (and lucky) to sit well with the guard.

Or maybe he just wanted a reason to kill the man. It was anyone's guess, really.

[K33LA]

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Kunal stood rigidly in a section of the room, and no one approached him for a time. He was thankful in a vague sense, grateful that his spinning thoughts would not be interrupted. Misery was his forte, and in the end it was all he knew how to feel. Bashirah was at the forefront of his mind, her name and face smoldering in his imagination.

Why is she acting like this? Why would she say those things to me?

Though he had witnessed his sister's frustration on occasion, it was hardly ever directed at him, and even when it was it had never been so ferocious. Kunal knew it was his fault, somewhere inside, but he was unable to admit this consciously. This was the greatest source of his pain, his confusion. The unrecognized knowledge of his guilt paired with the straining bond between he and Bashirah disquieted him deeply, so much so that he became unable to pay attention to anything else. He felt nauseous. The room began to disappear and his body functioned on auto-pilot.

[optional flashback]

Blurred vision ceasing, Kunal opened his eyes with full clarity. He was in a warmly colored room, small fires burning brightly in elaborate dishes brimming with oil. The gold and red designs of his childhood decorated every surface imaginable; the sight may have appeared gawdy to others, but to Kunal it was beautiful. He was lying on a feather bed, wrapped in soft blankets of crimson. He could feel the coolness of the fabric contrasting the comfortable heat of the room. Something next to him shifted. It was a little girl. Bashirah, ten years old. A memory...

Kunal and Bashirah, young and defenseless, protected one another in their mutual embrace. They had often shared moments like this in childhood, supporting one another in secret to endure the harsh realities of their unforgiving Gradian upbringing. Kunal's body was sore and exhausted from sparring, Bashirah's feet covered in blisters from hours of dance training. Tomorrow they would do the same. It was a hard life, though for Kunal and Bashirah it was routine.

"Will we always be together?" asked a hushed voice. Kunal hadn't realized Bashirah was awake.

"Yes," young Kunal answered. He said it without pause or cognition. He didn't have to think about it. "Always."

"I'll protect you. I'll keep you safe," she whispered, her hand finding his. Kunal nodded. She examined his busted lip with sisterly concern. He had forgot how empathic Bashirah had been as a child; she could always sense the slightest disturbance in his thoughts.

"I love you, Bashirah."

"I love you too." At that moment, she flicked his nose with tiny fingers. They shared a happy and quiet laugh, their teeth brilliantly exposed for a second. This was the last time he'd smile so openly for a long time.

The door opened abruptly, loudly. The King of Gradius bared down upon them, his eyes black and hateful as coal. An ungodly screeching filled the room, the lanterns flaring furiously, and Kunal was wrenched from his sister's bed. The memory began to falter. He saw Bashirah, dragged by her hair down the hallway. His father was screaming something, but Kunal couldn't remember properly; the words began to fuse and muddle. He felt a pressure around his neck, his legs kicking wildly as he was picked up. Kunal looked down and his body became stiff. The Lava Pits. The Lava Pits.

The Lava Pits!

[end flashback]

The memory ended suddenly, and Kunal took a stifling breath. He couldn't remember any further; he didn't want to. That night changed Kunal and Bashirah drastically, permanently. It had forced them apart in many ways and caused them to grow closer in others... But even those few strands they had so artfully managed to keep were rapidly disintegrating now, ever since they had left the safety of their homeland. In these foreign kingdoms they had been surrounded by their enemies, allied together as they had always promised to be... Now he was not sure which side Bashirah was on... He began to hate her like the others. Slowly, she was betraying him. Kunal could feel it.


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❁ There is ℓσνє in your вσ∂у but you can't get it out

It gets ѕтυ¢к ιи уσυя нєα∂, won't come συт σf уσυя мσυтн

Sticks to your тσиgυє and it shows on your fα¢є

That the ѕωєєтєѕт σf ωσя∂ѕ have the вιттєяєѕт тαѕтє ▶ ▷


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xxx

[0o0gizmo0o0]

x x x x x x x x x ✗ K o r a x Z h a d d a g h

“Thank you” Kora said gratefully, as Dalena handed the baby to her. Taking the child into her arms, at first Kora was unsure of what she was doing. She had never held an infant before in her life. However, as she supported the little faery girl’s head and back, careful around her tiny wings, she felt a bit more sure of herself. The little girl looked up at her curiously, and had taken a liking to one of the Shasta princess’s braids. The babe began tugging on it by one of the beads at the end, but the princess was too amused to really mind. It served well as a temporary measure to help the princess forget her previous anger at her betrothed. No doubt it would surface again, but for now at least, she was distracted. Any risk of the elf’s untimely demise had been thwarted.

Anna approached them and handed a bowl to Dalena. The mixture in the bowl was sweet smelling, unlike most other baby foods that Kora could think of in her limited experience. It was more floral, while under normal circumstances, the princess would have expected the infant’s food to smell like sour milk, or some indiscriminate vegetable mash. After that, Anna left to attend other matters, and Dalena asked if they should start feeding the baby. Kora got the impression that the Rite was worried about offending her. She smiled in an attempt to reassure her. “You do not have to be quite so formal with me. Traveling such as we are, it would be impossible to keep up with all of the usual codes of conduct,” the princess replied, taking the initiative and stepping closer to the Rite herself. “Is this angle okay?” she asked, holding the child securely, but in a manner that she hoped would make it easier for Dalena to feed her.

The princess’s expression was warm and soft as she looked at the baby. As Kora’s real mother had died at birth, and the queen of Shazgard would have nothing to do with her, it had been up to the servants and nurses to tend to her as an infant. Looking down at the tiny little girl that lay in comfort in her arms, Kora wondered if she had ever been held this tenderly. What of her father? While he had always been kind to her, he had always been careful with his affections so as not to upset his queen. She heard some shouting coming from fight outside the front of the house. Unconsciously, she held the child a little tighter. “What could possibly be going on out there?” she asked, as she trained her head in the direction of the front door, although she did not make any moves towards it.


OOC:

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