Tales of the Betrothed (closed)

[Jinxie_Unlucky]

~*Kiya Vaati*~

Kiya had taken Jean's example and found a perch in one of the trees. With two people throwing berries, the faeries were distracted enough for Cat and Kora to get closer to the cage. Dodging arrows was starting to get harder as the faerie's shots became more accurate and the dancer's movements became more sluggish. The slight headache she'd felt earlier had developed into a disorienting pounding, and keeping her balance on the branch was getting harder. Damned bee. If this was what being grazed by its stinger did to you, Kiya wondered how potent a real sting was.

When she looked over at Jean to see if he was still okay, she noticed he wasn't even in the tree anymore. She looked around and saw him in the garden, on top of one of the faeries. She noticed Eston holding his knife to the female faerie's throat, and Kora was now right at the cage. The shots had stopped, and so Kiya took advantage of the opportunity to climb down from the tree. She slipped on one of the lower branches, crashing into the ground with a dull thud. None of the monarchs had noticed, though; they were too busy with the events going on inside the garden. The dancer crept along the brush lining the garden, much the same way Kora and Catalina had. Moving at all was becoming quite a chore, and crouching like this was not making it any easier. She stopped as she saw the princesses and Cat running, resting on her knees and keeping a close eye on the monarchs should there be any more arrows flying in her direction.

What happened next, Kiya was not prepared for. She had thought they were almost home free, that everyone was going to get out and they'd all be fine, but fate apparently had a different plan. She had to put her hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out when Zaara got hit by the arrow.
(1/2)

[Jinxie_Unlucky]

(2/2)
~*Kiya Vaati*~

Everything happened so quickly. Jean and Kora rushed over to Zaara; the monarchs were in a state of almost-panic. Kiya was too far to hear her comrades, but she could hear the monarchs quite clearly. Apparently the faerie who'd shot Zaara was not supposed to do that.

"Hanzo will have our wings! The Queen will have our heads!"

Kiya really didn't care who Hanzo was, but the mention of a queen caught her interest. Surely the Queen of Laelie wasn't in on this; it made no sense. But then who could it have been?

It wasn't until the monarchs had left that Kiya emerged from the bushes and walked over to where the royals were. Standing up had given her a head rush, and she'd had to rely on a large stick she'd found on the ground to help her walk. She couldn't help the tears that came when she saw Zaara, lying lifeless on the ground. Regardless of the fact that Kiya was born in Gradius, Zaara was her princess. And what a great princess she had been, too, so much kinder and more understanding than her mother. She was strong, an example of how a woman could be independant and not need a man to support her, and Kiya had always admired that. She looked at the group, checking that everyone else was all right. What Jian had said was still bothering her, and without meaning to, she thought out loud, "That faerie said the Queen would have their heads; which queen was he talking about?"

[Shuttershy]

❀ ѕуℓρнιяα тuulí chrístαllє

xxxxxxxxxxx---- »» princess of lαєlíє

The princess stood by and watched again as the palace, her home, was torn apart a second time in Hanzo's search for either the queen or some tome. Her hair was a disaster and her clothes a mess.

For Izar, he had said. Sylphira vaguely recalled the name, as the faeries weren't especially big on the religions of man, but the familiarity told her she must have read it somewhere, in one of her forbidden books. Whatever the case, Izar was apparently not friendly, and if Hanzo was willing to go this far for her, then there was no doubt that something serious was going on, and that no kingdom would be safe, if a true being of deific power was at work. And what of this tome... A light went on within Sylphira's mind. The tome presented to the Dradecans by those strange three beings, who also had the names of deities... But if they truly were gods, why had they required the help of spoiled noble children? It didn't all add up. Regardless, this situation had been going on for too long, and the princess feared for Anna's safety now.

"If..." she began slowly, shoulders slumped, "..I take you to the tome, will you tell your men to let the others go? Let them leave the forest?"

Defeat laced her voice, while in truth, she was bluffing. She had no idea where this tome was, or if there even was a tome similar to the one in Dradecus. But Sylphira had a silver tongue, when she wanted to, and was very convincing. Many times she slipped out of less than ideal situations with words alone. Partially, she could attribute it to her study of magic. Enchantments were a powerful thing, and within the heart of Laelie, where her magics were at their most powerful, she felt confident she could convince Hanzo to do this. She would have simply told him to release her and her allies, but she could feel the determination and resolve behind his words and actions. Such strong resistance would prove difficult to overcome, even with her magic this close to home. Strong will was one, if the only, trait she admired about Hanzo anymore. So she settled for second best; getting the others out safely. If nothing else, she could give that to them, that they might be able to continue their journey and find a way to save the other kingdoms. Whatever became of her then, well... She had caused enough trouble.

Hanzo stared at the princess for a long time before saying anything. It seemed as if he was trying to look through her, to see what was ticking inside of her mind. The longer he stared, the more disgusted he looked. His mouth tensed, corner twitched. It was hard to believe that Hanzo and Sylphira were on friendly terms once. He genuinely looked at her as if she was merely a rotting pile of pigeon droppings.

But he was looking for something more important than her. The thing they'd come to Laelie to retrieve that day in the first place. Hanzo was not trustworthy, as far as the rest of them were concerned, but if she was willing to bargain, he would certainly pretend to be. Negotiating was not something Hanzo did. He was a creature of impulse. Of anger. He wasn't above slaughtering the princess of Laelie just because she spoke back at him.

Before answering to her proposal, the monarch leader went to retrieve his spear, which had been lodged in the body of one of his allies, and stuck to the wooden wall. Sylphira watched hopefully as Hanzo went for his spear. Though he showed disgust, it appeared that he might actually entertain her pleas, at least for now. He was about to make the call to unlock Sylphira's cage when someone else found their way into the room-- Anna, making her grand entrance as a 'mighty' guard, crumbling under Laelie's curse. The princess jumped at Anna's entrance. Her heart could not have sunk lower then. No...

"Annabel Crowbers," Hanzo recited her name like he'd said it a million times during his lifetime in preparation for that very moment. "You don't remember me. I'm not surprised. You've always been a complete waste of brains. Maybe you remember my brother, the man you beat in the bid for royal guard." He spoke through his teeth, in barely restrained rage. "He was shot in the heart with an arrow mid-flight. The day before you were appointed. Look at yourself now. You deserve to suffer."

Anna appeared to be suffering enough already, as Sylphira was, from the curse. Small hands gripped the bars of the cage tightly once more, dark eyes went wide, red from stress and tears.

"No, Hanzo! Let her go..." she pleaded desperately. Though it was her guard's duty to be here, Sylphira wasn't sure she could handle the girl's death. Not now, not after everything that had happened. If only she had been quicker to negociate with Hanzo, maybe Anna would have missed them and been able to get away. It was just another way the mighty princess had failed. What a sad excuse. Even here, in Laelie, where she was at her most powerful, she felt powerless. pathetic...

It was too late to talk any sense into the man. He was hell-bent on destroying the royal guard, and already drunk with power. Bloody spear in hand, Hanzo picked himself up, hovering inches from the ground, and rushed the girl.

[K33LA]

Part Five

By the gods, she was sore.

That was the first thing Sonya realized as she dragged herself back to reality. Her entire abdomen was aching, throbbing from her right side outwards from a stiff burning to a dull sting. Every breath she laboriously sucked in stretched her bandages uncomfortably over the wound.

"Bandages?" she muttered at the thought, her fingers gingerly prodding at her side. She'd been wrapped up cleanly, a gauze bound over her torn clothing. The memory of whispers in her ear from the mysterious woman drifted back to her and she realized she'd been saved as she hoped. As awareness came back to her as well, Sonya heard the faint sound of breathing to her right, weak but alive. Kunal. And at her left, nestled into her and wrapped in fresh blankets, was the little girl, sleeping soundly now that danger had passed. Sonya let out a sigh of relief without being entirely certain why, but she attested it to how bothersome it would be to find herself lost and alone in the woods. Certainly it had nothing to do with actually wanting either of her companions alive.

"Kunal?" the whore finally called, her voice raspy and her lips dry. Her body was screaming for water, trembling for nutrition. The ground beneath her was damp and there was the sound of running water not too far off. The thought of drinking from a fresh stream and wetting her arid mouth made her groan.

"Kunallll?" she tried again, this time reaching out and finding his arm. Sonya nudged him impatiently, and when no response came she gave him a hard pinch.

"Ow!" came a sharp cry as Kunal suddenly stirred. He slapped her hand away and tried to face whatever creature had assaulted him, but as he did a second cry escaped from his lips. Body protesting painfully, the Gradian crumpled onto his back once more, his chest heaving and face grimacing. For a moment he laid still, allowing the pain to subside and his thoughts to reboot. Memory returned to him in a slow trickle. After a minute of silence, Kunal spoke in his usual tone of indignation. "What?"

"No need to get all huffy, Gradian," Sonya hissed at him, giving him a little slap on the hand in return. They looked like children fussing after being together for too long. "I was simply checking to see if you survived. Unfortunately, you did."

"How lovely of you to show your gratitude," he spat tiredly back. Kunal took a few labored breaths; even talking hurt. "I'd send a rude hand gesture your way, but you wouldn't get much out of it, would you?"

"You little brat, I'll cut your hands off and call it even!"

"Well, you're in luck then; I can barely move!" He attempted to sound ironically cheerful, but his abused voice could not reach high enough to perform such expression. Another pause. "How did we get here?" A visible twitch ripple through his body as he remembered another important detail; his tone held a tinge of urgency to it. "The child, where is she?"

"She's right here, if you'd open your own eyes," Sonya bit back at him, still flustered at his comment. She reached over and took the child into her arms, careful to position her correctly and take her time while she contemplated Kunal's other question.

"Someone must've saved us. I don't remember a thing," she said simply, giving a little shrug with a blank face. Kunal wouldn't believe her for a second if she claimed to have dragged all three of them to...wherever the hell they were. She deflected any further questions he might have by passing the baby to him without warning and struggling to stand, making all sorts of unpleasant hisses and groans along the way. She smoothed out her clothes carefully, an old habit to make sure she was all in order, and nodded toward the sound of running water.

"You're completely useless, aren't you? Not able to lift a finger? Oh well, I'll have to make do on my own. If you promise to be quiet I might just bring you back something as well."

Though Sonya's words were completely impudent, Kunal couldn't find the energy to find offense; they seemed to be passed that now. But she didn't have to know that. Kunal merely replied with a noise somewhere between a grunt and a growl. He listened to the sound of her footfalls as she left, rock and earth crunching beneath her feet. A brief respite. The baby rested peacefully upon his chest where Sonya had deposited her. Kunal's eyes strained to look upon her without moving his neck. Everything throbbed, ached, stung, or felt numb; his whole being seemed consumed in discomfort. Except for that baby. She laid atop him without a care in the world, whole and pristine. He had seen babies before, but never like this... How odd. Kunal's eyes narrowed slightly and his nostrils flared.

"You still reek," he grumbled, somewhat disgusted. He didn't understand why infants felt the need to soil themselves. His voice - lower than usual - rumbled and resonated within his chest, the vibrations causing the child to stir. She made a strange noise, though it wasn't cry. A sigh? The smack of her lips followed the airy sound. She shifted a bit, falling back into stillness. He was thankful she had finally decided to cease her vexing screams. Foolish blob, he thought. To simply act upon one's own needs without regard to others...

The thought dawned on him, however, that perhaps they were not so different, the child and him. Had he ever truly acted on another's behalf? He could not recall any specifics, except in regards to Bashirah. And even that was questionable, he realized. Kunal shook the thought from his mind; there was no point entertaining such useless speculation. His eyes fell to the girl once more, her fat face pressed into one of his pectorals. Kunal had the strongest urge to poke her, but he thought better of it. There was some pleasure at the idea of inconveniencing her slumber as she had so greatly inconvenienced him... but that joy might prove short lived once she began wailing again. It wasn't worth it.

And then, as if on cue, she began to fuss. Quietly, albeit, still asleep (or at least mostly), but still fussing nonetheless. Kunal groaned.

"Oh, shut up. Shut up! Please, shut up, you wretched thing." When that didn't work Kunal was at a momentary loss. How did one soothe a temperamental lump? He'd never had to deal with one himself, and mothers tended to do those kind of things behind closed doors... What had Sonya done? "Oh Gods," he griped, knowing what was in store. Kunal gave up for a quick second, his mind slackening and beginning to numb, but that too proved futile. So, begrudgingly, Kunal began to hum softly, just enough to weave a small melody. It was an old Gradian tune, the only lullaby created by his people that he knew of. It had an interesting story behind it...

Sonya was making an awful lot of noise as she trampled down the forest, impatiently yanking at vines that tickled her face and slid against her clothes like searching fingers. There had been a time, once, when she'd sat on a quiet hillside and just enjoyed the sounds of nature, the soft whisper of a warm breeze against her sun-kissed skin and wildflowers painting the scene for her with their brilliant smells. But that was in another world, it seemed, one that existed a million years away. Here she'd lost both horse and prince who guided her and was stuck stomping aimlessly through a forest that wanted to kill her, following nothing but the sound of trickling water.

"I hope Kunal burns this wretched place to the ground," she seethed, slapping a branch away from her arm. In her anger she lost her focus and didn't find the stream until her boots were submerged a foot beneath the muck. Face blooming red with frustration, the elf kicked at the stones beneath the running water, stubbing her toe and unleashing yet another wave of curses. But even her anger couldn't quell the thought of wetting her dry lips and she found herself kneeling into the water, bringing up mouthfuls of it with her cupped hands. It was strange how a little blood loss and a brush with death could make some dirty forest water taste sweeter than candy.

Sonya drank more than her fill when she realized the problem with her current situation. It was of no concern to her, really, but Kunal was certainly as thirsty as she was. He'd been the one to fight for their lives, after all. But even if she really wanted to, how would she bring water back to him? Even if she could manage to lead him back here, there was no way he'd be able to move, not for some time. Sonya chewed her lip in thought, even going so far as to ask her demon for some assistance, but the creature was quiet and seething, hiding still from the lingering presence of the dark woman. Sonya tried to yank down a thick leaf from a tree handing over the little stream, but she was unable to balance the water in it very far before the underbrush tripped her up. Getting the water to him that way would take all evening, and the elf wouldn't stay in the falling darkness any longer than she needed to. No, Kunal would just have to do without.

But she couldn't return with empty hands. She owed him something for her life. As bitter and cold as she was, Sonya had some sort of morals in her blackened heart. She wouldn't show it, not in her face or her words, but she was thankful for the prince. The least she could do was try to feed him. Hunting, of course, was out of the question. Fishing wouldn't happen any time soon, either. But luckily for the both of them, Sonya had spent a lot of time gathering food as she traveled. By taste, touch, and smell alone she could identify a large range of herbs and fruits. The foods of this mysterious place would be different than what she was used to, but for their sake she hoped they were similar enough.

So Sonya found herself trailing her hands more carefully along the trees and vines and bushes as she followed the stream back to camp. Her fingers glided down prickling branches and soft leaves. She would stop and smell around them, searching carefully for hints of citrus or melon. The forest was one filled with life, and it wasn't very long before she was picking succulent round fruits from the base of a wide tree with sweeping branches like a willow. The rind of the fruit was hard and bumpy, but Sonya opened it carefully with her knife and was rewarded with a heavenly smell, something like passion fruit and a pineapple combined. The juice poured down her hand, seeds carried with it. Cautiously she tasted a drop of it, pleased at the sweet tang. The elf gathered as many as she could carry in her arms and went on.

"Lovely voice," Sonya called, announcing her entrance. Kunal's mouth snapped shut before the elf could catch the tune of his humming. "Are you trying to make the child cry again?"

кυиαℓ, ѕσиуα, αи∂ вαвуxxxxx

--> one big happy familyxxxxxxxx

[Ariiadne]

▐░ℬasℎiraℎ░▌
『 ℘rincess oƒ GRADIUS 』

Bashirah watched nonchalantly as Elya tortured the faerie. Her paradoxical cheerfulness as she carried out the act was a bit surprising, but the Gradian princess was, for the most part, unaffected. Whatever got the job done. Their captive was dragged to his feet, the fog fleeing from his body with each step they took – a human torch, of sorts. Bashirah smirked at the thought. She could make that idea much more literal. But she refrained, dimming her flame down as much as she could in her palm so that they could maintain an air of stealth.

While the guard busied herself leading, Bashirah glanced to the hurting Reriic. While she did not feel for him enough to offer him a shoulder to lean on, she did consider him in the confrontation to come. It would be best if he didn’t participate. She began to whisper.

“You should perhaps let us handle this next part,” she said to him. She meant it professionally, not personally. She then addressed Elya.

“You should hand over the faerie to your prince. He can remain with him, a dagger held to his throat, to secure his safety.” Of course she knew that would be no guarantee, but it was better than nothing. “Then you and I can confront Cin’s kidnappers. What say you?”

The sounds of struggle found their way to her ears. Without even looking at him, Bashirah handed Reriic her dagger, the one of which she spoke.

[SheIsCursedTea]

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

__________________________________

The sounds of a battle made Elya press her staff a little harder into Shin‘s back, resulting in his pace speeding up. Then, suddenly, the fog cleared completely around them, as it does only for faeries, and she was staring at Cin defending himself against a handful of the faeries. Elya‘s eyes moved from the battle scene to Shin for just a moment, before she removed her staff from his back, and swung it under his legs, sending him crashing to the floor. ”Thank you Shin. Your assistance has been very welcome, but I ask that you please stay put, as we may have need of you yet to navigate ourselves back through his fog. Allow Reriic to look after you just as Bashirah said.” Then, with a hint of a smile, she ran forwards, her staff meeting the back of the head of one of the faeries, sending him crumpling to the ground immediately. Her eyes swept over Cin quickly, as another of the faeries turned to look at her, eyes flicking between his fallen comrade and the girl before him.

”My apologies Cin. Both in you being captured in the first place, and our rescue taking so long. I feel if I was a better guard this would never have happened.” As if on que, the big faerie charged at her. She danced to the side, light on her feet, as the faerie barrelled past her. She swung her staff, hitting him on the back. The swing wasn‘t hard, but enough to send him stumbling. ”Now, come on boys. I thought you‘d be a bit more fun than this!” The faerie quickly righted himself and turned to face her, blades at the ready. He bared his teeth and Elya just smiled sweetly. This seemed to anger the faerie even more, and he charged forwards once again, this time slashing with his blades in large arcs, to stop her dodging to the side once again. ”Ah, an opponent that learns as they fight, I‘m impressed.” The smiled never left her face as she danced backwards, dodging every sweep of the blade. The more she danced away, the angrier he got, the more power he put behind every swing of his arms. ”Come now, don‘t get angry. Enjoy the dance. It could be fun.” ”Stop running and fight me properly, cowardly elf!” ”Stop mindlessly swinging at me, idiot faerie! Do that, and I shall fight you, but while you continue to swing like a mindless idiot, I will not approach you.” The faerie stopped his swings slowly, blinking slowly. ”Much better!” And she swung, hitting his side. She laughed lightly, and went for another swing, only he gathered his wits about him, and blocked with crossed blades. ”Better.”

They continued for a moment like this, striking and parrying, until she fell backwards over the body of the faerie she killed before. She‘d been so busy with focusing on the body in front of her, that she failed to pay attention to the body behind her. She landed with a thump, her head hitting the floor and her vision blurred for a moment. When it focused again, she saw his great hulking body hovering over her. ”I forgot you guys could fly,” she muttered more to herself than anyone else. The faerie just smirked at her, before charging towards her. Elya managed to roll away, but a sudden sharp pain in her side alerted her to her wound. She refused to look at it, and went to right herself but she didn't have time to do so before the faerie was charging towards her once again. She tried dodging as best as she could, feeling the cool blade break the skin at various points in her body. "Think Elya. You have to get up. You're a sitting duck on the floor."

__________________________________

[Lord_Lazlow]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx---- »» prince of dradecusтнє ℓα∂ιєѕ

☽xxx ❶ xxx❷xxx ❸xxx ❹xxx ❺xxx ❻ xxx❼xxx ❽xxx ❾xxx ❿xxx ☾

Cin did his best to keep himself away from the faerie clones, but since there were three enemies he really only succeeded in tiring himself. He got a few more bruises on his body from punches and kicks from Kyung and his clones, but the majority of his pain was from the still bleeding wound on his arm.

It was then that figures began coming through the fog. Elya, Bashirah, and Reriic had found him. Wait, Bashirah? "Have I really lost that much blood?" Cin thought as he saw the Gradian princess. Of course she was definitely a much welcome sight, as were his brother and guard, but it was very unexpected. It was good they showed up when they did though as the prince felt any longer with Kyung and he probably wouldn't be walking out of this maze.

”My apologies Cin. Both in you being captured in the first place, and our rescue taking so long. I feel if I was a better guard this would never have happened.”

"No worries love, it was out of your control. Now then... help?" He hadn't realized just how exhausted he was, as he nearly doubled over after speaking. Taking a quick look around the feild Cin noticed two Kyung's standing and one knocked out on the ground. "He must be the real one," Cin thought. Elya went off with one of the Kyungs and, feeling a second wind, Cin went on the offensive with the other one standing.

He slashed from the right, which was blocked, then from the left, also blocked. Kyung brought his blades down, which Cin dodged by hitting the ground. Seeing his opening, Cin slashed at Kyung's stomach. The monarch's weapon sliced through the clone with ease, and just as the last one Cin injured, the clone faded away just before it hit the ground, but not before Cin grabbed one of the sickles.

The Prince looked over and saw Elya wasn't doing too well with her Kyung. She was rolling on the ground trying to avoid being stabbed, something which wasn't working too well. Kyung raised his sickles high into the air for a powerful finishing blow. Quickly, Cin dashed over and used his own sickle to block Kyung's, nearly dislocating his arm in the process because of the force. With his free hand Cin swiped the newly acquired sickle across Kyung's neck. With a look of shock, Kyung fell to his knees and faded away into nothing.

Cin dropped the two weapons he was using, which also faded away just as they hit the ground, and offered his hand to Elya to help her up.

"I'm very happy you guys came when you did," he said. "That one on the ground over there is the real guy. We either capture him and interrogate him when he wakes up, or kill him now. The choice is yours to decide." he said to the group.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

[PhantasmicRose]

Part Six

If Kunal had ever been caught in a socially mortifying position, then this was it. So engrossed in his humming was he that he failed to notice Sonya's return. He felt his face flush with heat, thankful that his dark skin provided cover to his embarrassment (really, he didn't understand how those pasty Zuleidians could bare it). Not that he had to worry about appearances in the midst of a blind woman. The song died abruptly, murdered by Sonya's untimely arrival and scathing remark. Kunal struggled to find a proper insult to sling back at her, and he was so flustered that his natural talent for witty comebacks had abandoned him. In the end he chose to ignore her. His mood darkened considerably, and he suddenly wanted to chuck the baby at Sonya's head. He resisted.

"Did you find anything?" he asked sharply. Kunal realized he could have whipped out a blind jab a moment too late. He'd save it for later.

"Oh, wipe that sour look off your face," Sonya said with a wave of her hand, sounding breezy and casual despite her earlier remark. "I can see it in your voice."

The elf dumped the contents of her arms over the rocky floor as she knelt down beside the prince, the fruits rolling to his arms and bouncing off. Their smell was enticing, even before they were opened.

"I've brought you back some food....if you're not too proud to take it." Sonya settled onto the cool ground beside him, taking a fruit into her hand and cutting it open carefully. She held out half of it over Kunal, her eyes somewhere beyond into the darkness. "I couldn't get you any water."

"Well you brought something back, so I suppose you're not completely useless," Kunal said. He tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but that only ended in pain. And because he forgot the baby was on his chest, she nearly rolled off his body and onto the stony floor of their small enclosure. Thankfully he caught her before that could happen, though the sudden action pried another tense cry from his lips. He collapsed onto his back again and felt the steady heaving of his chest. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. "Damn it all."

"Ah," Sonya said, and her voice was free of arrogance or judgment for once. Her hand slowly lowered, the fruit resting in her lap. "Is it that bad?"

Kunal waited for the insult to come, the punch line of her inquiry, yet nothing of the sort ever arrived. He laid with bated breath, his hot back pressing into the cool cavern stone.

"Yes," he replied simply. Something about the moment made him uncomfortable. It was an uncomplicated question she asked, but it was one that felt unsuitable to the Sonya he had only recently come to know. There was no poison to her words, no waspish sting. Was it a bluff?

"Can you move at all?" She asked simply as she set the fruit at her side and wiped her hands along her tattered clothes. Slowly her hands reached out, gracing over Kunal's arm to where the baby lay. She scooped the child up carefully and set her down to the side, out of the way but still easily in reach should she wake. She paused, considering how to ask her next question tactfully. The prince certainly wouldn't react well to the implications. The elf tapped her fingers against her knee in contemplation before nodding to the pile of food.

"Can you lift your arms to eat?"

The Gradian Prince did not respond right away. He was still waiting for the conversation to turn sour...

"I... don't know," he answered plainly. Kunal concentrated on his body. His right arm was completely numb while his left popped grievously with every move. "I think... one arm is dislocated. The other... might be broken."

Sonya nodded slowly as he spoke as if she could see all of this and agreed, as if she were some doctor taking down mental notes. Without another word to him, the elf brushed aside the fruits and little pebbles between them, making a comfortable place to sit. She slid her body closer to his, mindful of her own wounded side. She waited until she felt her knees touch Kunal's shoulder before she settled with her legs folded once more. After dusting off her hands, Sonya began to slide them beneath Kunal to lift him, though at this he protested.

"W-what are you doing, woman? Don't touch me!"

"Oh hush," Sonya said quietly, her voice like a scolding mother's. Her hands continued to travel gently beneath Kunal's back, and paying no mind to his struggles she lifted his head into her lap where it was cradled comfortably. "I'm sure you'd like to starve to death rather than let anyone see you this way. Well, I won't tell anyone. And I can't see you."

In her arms, Kunal tensed. No doubt Sonya could feel the damp heat of his skin as she handled him. He began to dissent and fight once more, but his traitorous body had other ideas. He had suffered too much abuse to feed himself, and he was beginning to feel lightheaded from dehydration and hunger. Whatever motive she had Kunal could not understand. Her actions did not fit the steely, biting persona she typically put forth. Was it gratitude? Surely some gratitude was in order after all he'd done for her, but that didn't seem likely... Perhaps she wouldn't let him die, but nursing him tenderly back to health was unimaginable. Kunal wondered if she had always been so harsh, if there had been a time when she had been gentler. Surely this came from somewhere deep within her, in a time before life had turned its back on her. Despite the lump of anxiety in his throat, Kunal remained silent. He had no other option. He nodded his head defeatedly, his face flushing with heat a second time. His heart began to beat a little faster.

Sonya felt the tense muscles beneath her fingertips, felt the subtle heat flush over his near-feverish skin. She was quiet for once, too tired and lost in concentration to be bothered with bitter remarks and a strong facade. She had been humbled by their situation as well, but not in the same way. It was Kunal's weakness that calmed her. It was his helplessness that sapped the hatred from her stark features. He had seen her at her weakest- a shivering little mutt blindly crawling around the dirt waiting for death- and he had saved her without asking anything in return. Maybe he would ask for something later, but that wasn't likely. Not when she witnessed him this way, not when she saw him at his weakest as well. And she could feel it in him, hear it in his voice- he hid a pain no one else understood, a loathing for himself and the rest of the world. They had found each other at the bottom of a very dark, lonely pit. That was something to bond over.

"Stop your fretting," she said in her low voice as she adjusted him so that his shoulders were just in her lap, his head propped up. She didn't need him choking to death. No one would ever believe in her kindness again after that. Not that she'd ever let anyone see her like this. Kunal could rest easy knowing this would remain between the two of them.

"Let me know if I... you know... miss?" There was actually a small, mocking smile on the edge of her mouth. God, was she laughing? It was hard not to. This was the stupidest thing she'd ever done.

Kunal hesitated but spoke shortly after Sonya.

"Your aim can't be that bad," he whispered, somewhat seriously. His eyes gained a faraway quality and his voice was barely audible. A sense of tranquility descended upon their small shelter. Kunal focused on the baby girl's steady, even breathing, accompanied by the distant sound of trickling water. He closed his eyes and tried to match her pace. Kunal's jaw slackened and his body relaxed. He parted his lips.

"You give me too much credit," she said with a smirk. If she'd been more playful she would've dropped some of the fruit on him, rustled his hair, something cute. But in the end she was still the guarded, bitter woman he knew, and her words faded there as she patted around beside them for one of the sweet fruits. She cut another open, this time just the very top of it, and pushed her knife through the gap, stirring the liquid fruit to release it from the rind. The seeds were small, nothing noticeable on the tongue, and had a subtle almond flavor to them when chewed. The two of them would've liked the food much more anywhere but here.

"Sorry." Juice dropped slowly from the point of the knife as she set it aside, moving the fruit to Kunal's lips. Her fingers smelled of the sweet plant and were a mess of their own. She was going to make a mess of the prince, no doubt. But the elf managed to tilt the juice into his mouth, lifting the back of his head a bit with her free hand. She didn't ask before preparing another. If he was anywhere as thirsty as she'd been, it would take more than a cup of juice to satisfy his tired body.

"Is that alright?" The silence was finally broken a few minutes later when she'd given Kunal a third fruit. There were seeds all over her hands and juice on Kunal's chin. She wiped it with a thumb absentmindedly, but left him with the rest of his dignity and took her hands away from him. She wouldn't touch a man longer than she needed to. Eyes staring blindly ahead, her hair a mess of dirt and blood, she leaned back against the wall of rock behind her. "I think there's more. I just can't reach them."

"I think I am fine, for now." His response was quiet and neutral. There was a surprising amount of juice in each of the hard round shells. Whatever it was, it was good, and even moreso for someone as deadened and exhausted as Kunal. The flavor lingered on his tongue, and a stickiness began to form round his lips. A tense beat passed.

"Thank you," he said even quieter, unsure whether or not he wanted Sonya to hear it. There was something that stopped him from speaking more. Kunal couldn't quite explain it. He felt his words would shatter the calm illusion they had created for the time being, forcing him to deal with the complete mortification of the situation. And yet it somehow seemed to be a fair trade. Kunal had saved her, and she, in turn, repaid him. It wasn't that simple, however. Kunal knew it, and he was sure Sonya did as well. There was an unspoken connection between them now, and he could not decide how to feel about it.

кυиαℓ, ѕσиуα, αи∂ вαвуxxxxx

--& one big happy familyxxxxxxxx

[XSenkoX]

As they left the scene of their battle, the elf prince had retrieved his brother’s blade and was again dragging it through the soil to mark their trail, but when Bashirah had suggested he stay out of the upcoming fight, he soured. He was appreciative of her assistance in the effort to find his brother, and there was some wisdom in her suggestion, but the young prince was not happy to leave his brother’s fate in the hands of another. Not that he had much of a choice, because soon the fog lifted further and the small company stumbled upon Cin and three identical faeries, causing Bashirah to force the aforementioned dagger into the elf’s hands while Elya clobbered their hostage and stepped into the fight.

Reriic was unfamiliar with knives. He fumbled with the thing for a moment, trying to get the grip right before applying the edge to the throat of the captured warrior. It would hardly do to have the abused party realize that the one left to play guard had no idea what he was supposed to do with the weighty object he now held. To Reriic’s credit, his hands didn’t shake under the duress of not having his magic readily accessible should trouble arise, and he was certain that he could apply the right amount of pressure to slash Shin’s throat if it became necessary. The fight itself was tense, and both Shin and Reriic watched worriedly as the odds seemed to shift fluidly toward the favour of Cin in exchange for nearly taking out Elya. The faerie twitched in his oppressor’s grasp, but the bite of steel against his throat kept any errant movements of the minimal and non-threatening variety. At least until the last of Kyung’s clones was defeated and the genuine article was left defenceless and Cin spoke so casually of their options in dealing with the newest prisoner. Shin writhed and screamed oaths at the collective until he was cut off by a jerky movement from the young prince. Pinkish foam formed at the corners of Shin’s mouth as he continued to try and speak, but all he managed was strangled gurgling while blood poured from the jagged gash the young prince’s unpractised hand had opened up.

Pushing the soon-to-be-corpse away, Reriic scowled at his new gloves and their fresh coat of blood and tossed Bashirah’s dagger to the ground. “How barbaric.”

Unbalanced strides carried him past Shin and to Cin, who the princeling immediately caught up in an embrace. His perpetually dour expression softened as his eyes sought his brother’s, “Don’t do that again. Mother would have my hide if I was to return home without you.” Reriic took a step back and glanced at the downed Kyung, “I would suggest that we ask him some questions, though I am not interested in allowing him to awaken of his own accord.”

Having been too rash in his disposal of the Gradian blade, Reriic retrieved it with a huff of mounting exhaustion before he meandered to Kyung, made sure that Shin’s corpse was in full view, and, as was a favourite tactic of his, planted a boot firmly in the faerie’s side. “Wake up, insect; we have a few questions that need to be answered.” Reriic knelt beside Kyung, glad not to have to count on his legs keeping him up for this, and tapped the dagger casually against the faerie’s throat while he waited for Kyung to rise from unconsciousness. The first question wouldn’t leave Reriic’s mouth until the hate-filled eyes of the bested monarch were opened and staring into the elf’s.

“What did you hope to gain by taking Cin? The ire of Dradecus over the murder of their crown prince is hardly something that you homeless bastards should wish upon yourselves.”

The faerie awoke calmly, as if he was expecting to see the knife at his throat. He didn't even argue with them when they started asking him questions. If he was going to die, Kyung figured he'd at least give them something to think about.

"Dradecus is an enemy of ours. We tried to be friendly. We tried to make things right. They were the ones who told us to leave their city and never return. They left us all to die. The women, children-- everyone. Killing their precious sons would've been sufficient revenge. Your precious city cowered beneath the shadow of a lone beast. It'll be easy for our forces to conquer."

"We killed your beast and both myself and my brother are very much alive. I would have to note that the latter is significantly more than what can be said for your compatriots." The elf smirked mirthlessly, "But if you have forces, someone must be pulling your strings... none of you seemed smart enough to stage such an elaborate plot on your own. Who gave your orders?"

The whole time, Kyung made no move to look at his fallen brethren. Shin, who had suffered terribly, wasn't paid any attention by the berserker. He knew, though, that Shin was in a place where there was no pain. A peaceful, happy place. "Hanzo, duh." He started to laugh.

Reriic laughed along with Kyung, doing an admirable job of appearing to be honestly enjoying himself up until he placed his hand upon Kyung's cheek and the elf sobered suddenly. His long fingers rested just below the faerie's eye socket. "Don't get smart." Grasping at the barest threads of his magic, the elf focused his rotting touch on the eye cavity. As the flesh bubbled away from Kyung's face, the skin beneath Reriic's gloves began to do the same. The damage to the elf was far more extensive than the damage to the faerie and the magic failed rather quickly, but Reriic's face betrayed nothing of the sort. "Who controls Hanzo? Who gave you the beast to attack Dradecus and the power to turn the faeries into insects?"

Kyung did not scream, but certainly struggled. He tried to brave the attack as well as he could, but the smell and the feeling of his flesh becoming liquid was too unpleasant to bear. When the light began to go out in his eye, Kyung started speaking very quickly, and did not stop until Reriic had his answers.

"I already told your brother, the beast in Dradecus, the insects in Laelie, and the calamity that has befallen Yardis has nothing to do with us! We just took them as an opportunity to strike Laelie at its weakest point. As much as we hate you elves for what you did to us, the only attacks we've made on your precious city have been nothing but future plans. Hanzo sacrificed his child to Izar, the Illegitimate, and she bestowed him with the power to control the changed faeries, but he could never have done anything if it weren't for His Majesty, King Gerard. Laurent gave us a new home and a place to build up our forces. He knew exactly what we were doing and did nothing to stop it. In fact, the Zhaddaghs encouraged us, as long as we brought back her oldest daughter, and some blasted tome. All Laurent wanted was for us to find the Lady Christalle, so Hanzo could bring back her head."

"Laurent?" Reriic drew his hand away from Kyung's face and glanced towards the others. Izar's appearance in this mess made a sort of sense, but the royals...? "Jean's father... and Kora's family? What sort of stupidity is that, both of their children are here with us. Gods, you lot nearly killed them!" His eyes narrowed dangerously and the elf's attention fell harshly back upon the faerie. "Do they know about their parents' involvement in all of this?"

"We didn't try to kill them, nitwit, if everything went according to plan, the Princesses should be safely on their way back to our base. Laurent didn't even mention his kid, but Hanzo was the one who ordered us to leave the fish unscathed, just in case." Kyung's eyes were locked onto the elf's and never left them, not even once. "I wouldn't know what those Kings and Queens say to their children. They sure seemed surprised to see us."

The prince held Kyung’s gaze unflinchingly, “I see. This has been most enlightening, but I feel your usefulness is drawing to a close.” Reriic made to gather his power, but nothing responded to his call except excruciating pain. The elf shuddered reflexively and, as Kyung smirked, drove the dagger into the faerie’s good eye. It wasn’t enough to kill Kyung, just blind him, and Reriic repeated the process with the milky eye he had nearly destroyed before. Leaning close to the screaming faerie, Reriic whispered into his ear: “You will understand what happens to anyone that harms my family.”

“Bashirah,” Reriic stood carefully, “if you would be so kind as to burn his wings. Elya, break his legs and arms. If he survives the maze in that condition, he can tell his allies what to expect if they are fools enough to continue after us.” He sought out Cin and barely managed to stumble the few steps to his brother’s side, “Follow the trail from your blade to escape the maze. And, if we are feeling generous enough, please don’t leave me here once I collapse.”

[Rada Han]

a t r i p i n t i m e

↘ all is lost again



Laelie Falls





In the royal palace’s ransacked throne room, Hanzo was getting ready to tear the weakened faerie guard into shreds. One could see the sheer amount of anger in his face. In these times and for the several years leading up to that moment, the monarch had fed on nothing but hatred. He could never feel any worse than he would in those next few moments.

He’d gotten so close to shoving his spear through Anna’s body, something he’d wanted to do for what seemed like such a long time, when one of his fellow monarchs dropped through the window. It was Shigeru, the old archer in charge of capturing the Shasta Princess. He smelled so incredibly foul that Hanzo grimaced at his scent and had to step away.

“What are you doing here? Are you finished with your task?” The soldier gruffly asked. Hanzo’s questions always sounded like orders.

“No sir. I bring bad news,” As soon as those words left the old faerie’s lips, his leader had a deadly glare pinned on him. Despite the smell, Hanzo stepped up close to Shigeru. Almost close enough to wrap his fingers around his neck. “The Zhaddagh’s eldest. She was shot.”

Immediately, the spearman grabbed hold of the cloth attached to Shigeru’s armor and lifted the blade of his spear to the old man’s neck. He was searing, but it was a different kind of anger. Hanzo actually felt that sinking feeling one got when things went terribly wrong. Where the consequences of one’s actions were grave enough to send the whole operation crashing down. Hanzo’s rage was laced with legitimate fear. “What do you mean, ‘shot’? Does she live?”

Shigeru was silent. Hanzo screamed his question for a second time, and the archer kept calm.

“No, sir.” The tension in the room rose to a nearly unbearable silence. Hanzo’s spear shook with his hand. For a moment, it seemed that it was all over for Shigeru, that he was going to be slaughtered like the last guard who got in their leader’s way.

But Hanzo lowered his weapon. His shouting ceased. “What have you done?” He asked, quietly. “Why was an arrow fired in the first place?”

“We were attacked, sir.”

“By what, some children chucking mungberries?! Do you realize what you’ve done?!” The monarch turned around, and gestured to the rest of his guards. “Sound the retreat. We need to leave this place. Immediately. Go!”

Without even letting Sylphira out of her cage, or giving her a second look, Hanzo took flight from the balcony after the others, but not before punching a hole into one of the throne room’s elaborately carved walls.

Horns sounded throughout the forest. Wherever there were monarchs still living, if they could, they fled. Their numbers had dwindled in that forest, thanks to the betrothed and their companions, and the plan that went awry. They fled, and left their baby behind like she no longer mattered to them, if she even truly mattered to them in the first place. Hanzo could only be grateful that their whole population had not come to Laelie just yet, and only just a few of their warriors had died.

Back in the throne room, there was a glimmer of something hidden behind the hole that Hanzo had made in the wooden wall. Upon being pulled out of its prison, one would see that it was, in fact, a book with a soft green glow emitting from it. It was so similar to the book given to them by the elven gods in Dradecus, that it was soon obvious that they’d found the sacred tome of Laelie. It was hidden behind a part in the wall where the newest princess Sylphira had been carved, nestled in her birth flower, more beautiful than any blossom in the forest.

Upon opening the book, the two women would be greeted by a message. It was the same message on every page. The book refused to reveal its contents until that passage was read, it seemed.

-----------------
It has been said that in times of darkness, when the people could no longer defend themselves and Laelie was in grave danger, the forest would come alive. Its ancient magic would awaken so that it might keep its citizens safe from any turmoil.

In these dark times, the people of the forest will be lulled into a deep slumber. An eternal slumber, until the Goddess returns to free them, and save them from their own destruction. The forest itself will seal itself from the outside world and become impenetrable to anyone except the Goddess herself. It is a powerful magic that has been used few times throughout Laelie’s history, since the dawn of its creation, which has preserved the life of her faeries longer than any other peoples in Yardis.

When this ancient tome lands in the hands of the Betrothed, those who hail from Laelie will find that their wings no longer vanish with their human form if they do not wish it to be so. In turn for the forest to play its part in protecting Laelie, the Betrothed will be ejected outside of the city to continue their journey.
-----------------

So, no matter where they were or what they were doing, the Betrothed and their companions would be engulfed in the same soft, green glow, and they’d vanish. They’d reappear outside of the forest in the outside world once again, in their normal sizes. The faeries were cured of their ailment and their wings were still fluttering at their backs, even in their human sized bodies.

The place that lay before them now was no less beautiful than the place they had been forced to leave behind. There were willow trees at the top of the waterfall that looked safe enough to sleep under. There was a clearing, with fruit-bearing bushes and plants beside a winding creek that flowed off of the edge of a cliff, several yards down into a freshwater spring that was populated with fish, frogs, and turtles, and flowed down hill into another secluded spring on the other side of the trees. Their horses had found this creek and made their temporary home there eating the clean grass. On a long branch of a strong tree, the birds that had helped them earlier were perched, preening their feathers with their beaks.

When they looked behind them, they’d see the forest winding and crowding, its trees moving by itself into what looked like armor around the interior where the faerie’s city lay waiting. They couldn’t go back in, for the trees on the outside formed an impenetrable shell. A cold wind blew in from the southeast.

This place was safe.

[Overlord Gizmo]

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

Kora sat frozen beside her sister, he crimson eyes glazed over as she stared off into space. She didn’t hear what the monarchs had spoken of before they fled. They might as well have ceased to exist as far as the princess was concerned at that point in time. No thoughts crossed her mind, as everything took on a soft buzzing; numbing her mind and senses. Even her tears had stopped falling, though her cheeks were still wet and stained from the ones from before... when they had been trying to save Zaara. Kora felt no wind, heard no sounds, and saw nothing but the blood of her sister on her hands as it began to cool. It was only when Kiya spoke, that Kora turned her head slowly in the dancer’s direction. “I don’t know...” she said, surprising herself with the way the words sounded, almost like a croak.

Her head ached too much to think clearly at the moment. She wanted to know who had sent the monarchs... why they were there, and what they were looking for... and also what they had hoped to gain by capturing her sister. But all of these questions drifted to the background. The crown princess was dead. Her sister was dead. Zaara was dead. They killed Zaara. She’d gotten Zaara killed. No matter how she said it in her mind, it couldn’t stick. She could not find it in herself to accept the information, although it was laid out right before her. It had all happened so fast... too fast... This was not the kind of death they spoke of in stories or sang about in songs about heroes long gone. It was fast, brutal, undignified, and ugly. This was all wrong.... this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, was it? Did the Gods have any mercy in their hearts at all? Or was that just a story too?

When a strange glowing light began to envelop all of them, Kora had gone instinctively to cradle Zaara’s head in a protective manner. “What’s going on?” she asked. She prayed that it wasn’t another attack. She couldn’t handle anything else after everything that had happened. Oddly enough, the glow brought a sad and calming comfort. The princess closed her eyes, and when she opened them again they were somewhere else entirely. Jean, Kiya, Cat, the man and his dog, as well as Zaara, were all as they had been before. But all of the others were there too. The other royals, their guards, and their followers. Kora looked around at all of them with dead eyes, as she quickly wiped away the remains of the tears from before. She couldn’t afford to look weak... not now. The blood of her sister was still warm on her hands, and the Shastan princess could think of nothing to say.

The beauty and tranquility of this place was lost on her. A hard lump rose in her throat, though she was quick to try and swallow it down. Kora stared down hard at Zaara’s corpse. After a moment, she felt painfully ill. Kora had nothing to say as she managed to push herself up to her feet. She gently laid Zaara’s head on the grass, before she all but stumbled away from the group. Kora had planned to get as far away from the group as she could, but only managed to reach a tree at the edge of the clearing, only a few yards away. One hand pressed against the bark of the tree for support, while the other clutched her stomach. The Shastan Princess retched violently into the bush. Coughing after she was done, her whole body was shaking when she returned to the group. When she did, she knelt beside her sister once more.

“Zaara’s dead.”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[V I V L I O N]

█████████████████████████

ADELE MARIE VANADIS

█████████████████████████

xxxxxAdele had no idea where they were flying to. She tried to lead the creature in the direction where the group had last been together but apparently the toucan had other plans in mind. The blonde was beginning to wonder if relying on the ball of feathers had been a good idea. True, it had saved them from the Monarchs but how far would their luck take them? Though, this all had been her idea. There was no way she was going to let Chandar know that she was doubting herself. This time she had done something right, or so she told herself. The group would all be reunited soon enough and everything would go back to the chaotic drama that they were so used to this long into the journey. But, as a soft green light began to engulf them, Adele looked around with bewildered eyes. Was this another attack? She looked around frantically for a source but found none. The guard let out a pathetic groan, "I am so sick of magic." Before she could do or say any more, the sky slid away from them.

The Zuleidian blinked in confusion as they suddenly reappeared in a clearing. She was beginning to hate all of these things that she couldn't explain. But she was relieved in a sense. Everything was rightly proportionate once more. She towered over mushrooms and stood tall alongside the trunk of trees. And when a loud bird shriek came from her left shoulder, Adele realized that even their toucan friend was at an ordinary size. Awkwardly, the blonde used two fingers to stroke the head of the bird as it perched on her shoulder.

However, any sense of relief slipped from her grasp as her eyes fell upon Jean. Yes, he seemed relatively unscathed but that wasn't what had caught her attention. It was the look on his face. She had only seen that look once before. Immediately, she knew she didn't want to move her gaze away. But, Adele bit her lip and forced herself to look down at the figures on the ground next to him. The blonde recognized the face of Kora, but her heart stopped at the sight of tears. Jean and her had been the source for the girl's tears for countless years, but these was different. Worst. In that moment, the Zuleidian already knew. She didn't have to look any further. But, some small, sick, twisted part of her needed confirmation. Her eyes fell on Zaara's lifeless features. All colour had drained from her cheeks. The once strong and intimidating crown princess, looked as fragile as a sheet of ice.

The guard's eyes were as wide as a doe at the end of a hunter's bow, and clearly as startled as one. Adele jumped as Kora suddenly pushed herself up and stumbled towards the edge of the clearing, the sound of retching loud and prominent in the guard's mind. But the Zuleidian forced herself to take a step forward towards Zaara, her mind trying to piece together everything so that she wouldn't have to ask any question. And yet, despite the clarity of the situation, a part of her was unable to believe what was right in front of her. How could Zaara be dead? Kora and Jean were supposed to have been able to handle it all. They had both been trained in combat. They were smart. But had they been out numbered? Had they just needed one other person to help? If she had been there, would Zaara still be alive? Suddenly, Adele felt the bile rise and burn in the back of her throat. This wasn't supposed to have happened. If she had known, she would have gone to help without hesitation.

The royal guard and the Shastan princesses had never quite seen eye to eye. They had been pit against each other from the very beginning due to the will of Jean and his crazy pranks. But, there was not a moment during the annual festivities that Adele did not look upon the two princesses with jealous eyes. They had been far more graceful and lovely than she had ever been. Boys flocked after them in both nations and they had the sweetest tempers. The Zuleidian had always longed to be their friend. And maybe if things had been different or if she had been brave enough to stand up to Jean, they might have been. But it was too late for that now. Zaara was gone and Adele could never expect for Kora to ever forgive the fact that she had not gone to rescue her sister.

She looked to Kora as the girl knelt down next to Zaara once more and stated what was already known. Her mouth opened to say something, anything that would offer some support but she was at a loss. All words seemed useless and unworthy. All beauty and promise in the world soured and held a sense of foreboding, for it is only in the wake of a loved one's death that people become fully aware of their own mortality. Adele moved over towards the youngest Shastan princess and knelt down beside her, pulling her into a hug. "I am so sorry." The Zuleidian breathed, so quietly that Adele was unsure if she had actually spoken.

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.

[Rada Han]

ImPeRfEcTiOn is в є α υ т у,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxⓂⒶⒹⓃⒺⓈⓈ is gєníus,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand it is better to be absolutely ɾïḋïсυløυṡ than absolutely ๒◊ЯⅰиG.
.........




In an instant, the uncontrollable frenzy turned to silence, and Jean-Baptiste could hear the wind blowing through the trees again. Their time in Laelie had gone by like a dream, so surreal that he could barely believe he wasn’t sleeping. He kept imagining that it would’ve been so great to just wake up in the morning, having never left Bhegin. He wanted things to go back to the way they were, even if it meant marrying Zaara in the first place. Anything would’ve been better than this.

Staring down at her, his gaze didn’t waver. He and Kora seemed to have been doing the very same thing at the very same time. They both seemed to in complete awe of what had just happened. Even when the green light engulfed them, the Zuleidan didn’t even budge. He’d never seen so much real magic in his life. Later on, he’d surely realize exactly what had happened to them, but now wasn’t the time. He was covered in blood, almost from head to toe. It was all over his face, his hands, and his clothes. Jean-Baptiste barely looked like the royalty that he was.

There wasn’t much for the prince to say until he heard Adele. That was when he looked up to see the change in scenery and the brilliance of the area, along with the rest of the group, as well as Kora leaving to vomit behind the bushes. There were no tears from Jean-Baptiste, but that sickly feeling was certainly present, even more so when Adele approached them. He made an effort not to look at her. Until she just got too close.

As soon as Adele wrapped an arm around Kora, Jean-Baptiste became more defensive than he’d ever been. The prince stepped over the body, and grabbed his guard by the arm wrenched her away from the Shasta girl. Jean forced her to her feet. “You stay away from her!” He shouted. His expression of grief had been morphed into one of animosity. He tried to keep his voice low and serious, but he simply couldn’t contain his current resentment to the girl. “You stay away from her. Don’t touch her. Don’t even go near her. This is your fault!”




xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx《The Trickster Prince》
.........

[V I V L I O N]

█████████████████████████

ADELE MARIE VANADIS

█████████████████████████

xxxxxA small gasp escaped her lips as she was suddenly pulled up off the ground. The blonde stumbled as she tried to find her feet. However, it took longer than usual considering her body still struggled to be in sync with what her mind told her to do after the Priestess’s attack. Finally, she stood awkwardly looking at Jean. Her brows furrowed in confusion at the anger that she saw on his features. The emotion looked so out of place when it was directed at her. She couldn’t remember a previous time when his blood boiled so due to something that she had done. For fear of meeting his gaze for any longer, her gaze slipped to his fingers wrapped firmly around her upper arm, the skin beginning to turn white underneath the pressure. Adele cringed, unaware of the fact that Jean had had so much strength in him. This fact alone began to worry her.

She tried to shake his grip, thinking that he would give up after a moment, but it became clear that would not be the case. A sense of anger suddenly flared inside of her then. His bitter words doing nothing more than fueling the fire. However, she couldn’t tell if she were more angry with Jean or at herself. Raising her eyes to meet Jean’s, the blonde locked her jaw, holding back the desire to strike her old friend. "Please, let me go.” Her voice was firm but quiet. She didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the entire group. The Gods knew that was probably the last thing they all needed.

The man’s first instinct was to remind the girl that she served beneath him, so she couldn’t tell him what to do. The problem was, Jean-Baptiste had never truly looked at Adele that way, so his words got stuck in his throat for the time being. He stared back at her unwavering, and released her from his grip. Still, the prince kept his index finger trained on her threateningly. “This would have never happened, if it weren’t for you.” His other hand was curled into a fist, and he practically hissed through his teeth at her.

She made sure to take a few steps backwards in case the other changed his mind. It was at that moment that Adele seemed to look at him in a new light. Her eyes looked the other up and down in a mix of confusion and distaste. He was so willing to pass judgement on her but he would never know the sense of guilt that was already weighing down upon her. She didn’t need to be reminded that due to her absence Zaara had been killed. But, despite the fact that she felt her nerves were about to reach a breaking point, she was not going to stand down. "Don’t you dare blame this solely on me. Where were you?” The blonde asked, her voice hoarse. "If you were a real prince, you should have been able to protect her!”

Unlike Adele’s, Jean-Baptiste’s voice was still strong. The fact that his guard dared to point any fingers at him was unbelievable to him, and it showed in his face. With a furrowed brow, he stepped closer to her, even though she’d tried to keep her distance. “I was there. I did my part to protect my friend. Where were you? You abandoned the duties given to you at birth to go after a man of low status that you don’t even know. Someone who threatened your prince outright in Dradecus, and spoke lowly of your people in front of your face!”

Adele raised her chin, desperately trying to make herself appear taller in this situation. She stood her ground as he approached once more, planting her feet firmly into the ground. A fight was always about making the opponent believe you had more confidence than him. And though she felt her facade being torn down with every word he said, she kept herself collected. "I went to protect a life that would not have been defended otherwise! Was I just supposed to let him die?” The blonde asked astonished. "I’m sorry but I am not that heartless.”

“Be serious, Adele!” He raised his voice again. No matter how much the girl fluffer herself up to look bigger, she was still speaking to the royal prince of Zuleidi. She could never hope to measure up to his level of confidence, especially in that moment, when he sincerely believed that he was right. “Someone did die! It could’ve been any of us! What if it had been me? You didn’t care enough to be at our side, people you’ve known since you were a child. You left us barely armed, to fend for ourselves! You’ve betrayed your vows!”

She tried to hold his gaze, keep up the air of confidence. But the mirage was shattered. Adele looked away from Jean’s eyes in defeat, the tears threatening to fall. Her lips pressed together, trying to do anything to keep the last bit of pride she still held on to. He was right. What if it had been him? She couldn’t even fathom the possibility. Death had always seemed so impossible. Even in Dradecus when Jean had been taken by the sand beast, Adele had refused to believe that he had perished. But now, their life long friend lay motionless on the ground in front of them. She had betrayed her vows as a royal guard and she would spend every day for the rest of her life regretting it.

The blonde let out a nearly hysterical laugh, as she roughly wiped a cheek with the back of her hand before crossing her arms over her chest. "So, what now? Are you going to take the place of your father and kill me for breaking my vows? Abandon me in this forest to fend for myself?” Adele returned her gaze to his face. "Though, you may have realized, you need a guard. You can’t protect yourself or your loved ones.”

Jean-Baptiste looked at the woman with disgust as she laughed in his face, merely inches away from the corpse of their friend, like it was some sort of joke. “No, Adele, I’m not you. I tried to protect her as well as I could have. Ever since we escaped from Bhegin, you haven’t been doing your job. I’ve gotten swallowed by beasts, hit by rocks, socked in the face by the Gradian, attacked by the Dradecan, and almost skewered by arrows. Where were you? That guy right there has been more useful than you,” He gestured over his shoulder toward Eston and his dog. “...And I don’t even know his name!”

With a sour expression, laced with pure disappointment in his lifelong friend, he sized her up just as she did him, and slammed his bloody palms into her shoulders, pushing her roughly away from him. “You can piss off for all I care!” He yelled at her, and turned around to walk further down the creek.

Adele stumbled backwards as the palm of his hands made contact with his shoulders. But her gaze didn’t leave him.

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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Silence fell in the forest, an unnatural silence. As if everything just stopped the moment that arrow shot through the air, killing the girl they were rescueing. His grip on the captive faerie must have loosened when it happened, as she quickly pushed him away and disapeared. Along with the other faeries. Even Theia seemed to sense the lose of danger and coming of grief in the area as she had returned. Eston gripped the knife tighter, and walked closer to them, still unsure of what to do. Of what to say. Words seemed useless in situations like this, and he knew they weren't likely to help the grieving girl. He knew what grief like that felt like, and it was something that words never helped ease. So he simply stood knew the group, wanting to be able to do something more to help, but unable to think of what.

Earlier, when the girl had been alive, but quickly dieing, they had called her Zaara. Zaara, the same name as the Shastian Princess. It didn't feel like much of a stretch to assume that this was the Princess, The princess of the land he himself called home now. This woman was meant to be queen. Clearly she was in no position to do so now.

A stifling silence seemed to fall over the group, a silence that seemed to last much forever, before they were swallowed by a light. It felt strange, it was warm. And calming. As if it was trying to tell them all 'It will be okay,' It brought them to a new place. A clearing along the riverside. There were others here, whom he assumed to be the other companions of this group. He stayed near the few from earlier.

A girl, one who looked familiar to him, came over to offer some sort of support for the grieving girl. Ah, of course. He had met her briefly earlier, before he passed out. That meant the people he had met then were part of this group. The blonde man was not pleased to see her, the two getting into a fight. Eston payed little attention to them. He walked closer to the girl kneeling beside the body, and knelt down next to her.

"Are... you going to hold a funeral for her?" He asked her. He didn't know if he should speak, but he felt like he needed to say something. And something like a 'I'm sorry' felt wrong to him. But he felt he had to say something, anything.


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