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"I can't seem to find any meat," She stated, "I know fruits and vegetables are good and all but," Melethia paused. What was that noise she heard? It sounded a bit like crying. She looked around the place. Where was it coming from? After a quick 360 spin, she thought for a bit. She then looked at what Isadora was holding.

"Ok what is going on here?" She thought, "What does she have hiding?"

"I was going to say the fruits and vegetables are good but I would like some meat." She stated, "But now, I'm wondering what do you have hiding there? Cause I can hear a small crying sound. Did something get in here?"

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"W-well.. maybe not a daddy, but... eh.. heh" Abel chuckled a little, not really knowing what else to say. After a slight awkward silence, he looked up and saw Amara run off. "H-hey! Don't run off so suddenly! Amaraa! Gah!" He started to chase after, then turned back to Akihi. "Sorry, I'll go get her!" He then continued to chase after her. "Amaaaraaaa!"

After working through the maze of people, nearly knocking over about five or so guests, two servants and one guard, (which was weird, because the guards are lining the walls, and nowhere in Abel's pathway) he finally spotted Amara skipping out onto the balcony. Before the guards could close the glass doors behind her, Abel swooped through. He took a moment to catch his breath, before calling out to her. "Hey... you know better than to run off without asking or telling somebody where you're going. You'd worry your mother like crazy!" He looked over to where she was. She was at the railing, looking up, as stars started to show, while the sun began to set. He walked over to her, and smiled. "...Pretty, huh?" He spotted a black dot in the distance, but couldn't tell what it was, so he ignored it.

"Well, there's some in the kitchen. However, no need to worry. We have servers serving the food around and there's a buffet to eat. I'm sure Tibarn made plenty of food, both meat and vegetarians." Isadora replied.

That was an odd question to ask. Surely, they couldn't ran out of food that quickly. After all, the paladin had rarely seen the Hawk King for nearly a month before the party began. She knew very well that Tibarn had slaved himself in the kitchen to make sure that all the food were prepared and well for the party. How could she had missed it so easily?

Suddenly, the paladin heard a muffle. She would have her cheeks turn pink by the sound of it, but she kept her composure. She didn't want to cause a problem in the party. There was already enough.

Just then, she heard a noise. It sounded like it came from the kitchen. Isadora heard pots and pan banging from the kitchen as well as yelling and cursing. The paladin frowned. It looked like the kitchen was occupied too. Now, how would she get it out?

She then heard Melethia talked, asking her about what was she hiding. Oh, no. This was not good.

"Hiding? I have nothing to hide." The paladin lied. "In fact, the only cry I hear right now is coming from the kitchen."

Right on cue, there was a battle cry from the kitchen. The paladin wondered what was going on. However, she had to get out of the mess ASAP!

"Something get in here? There's nothing but guests coming in." Isadora gave a short chuckled. "Melethia, you don't need to worry about it. Just relax and enjoy the party. I'm sure you will find some meat on the buffet counter. Now, if you excuse me, I have to take the tray of bones to the dump. We don't want a dirty party, do we?"

Whatever Melethia tried to speak, the paladin didn't hear it. Isadora just turned and walked quickly to the kitchen despite that she didn't want to enter and see what the problem was. However, she had no other choice. If she went somewhere else, she was sure that someone would find her suspicious.

Out of the pan and into the fire. Isadora thought grimly as she entered the kitchen. But once she entered it, something smacked her in the face.

What smacked her was a large meatball. By that force, it knocked the paladin to move backward and out of the kitchen. But not before she dropped the platter and bowl, allowing the creature freed in the kitchen.

"Hm...I must not have spotted it." She said. After she heard the noise from the kitchen, Melethia knew it was best for her to leave and not be in the crossfire. Then she did a facepalm.

"Duh," She thought, "I can use my nose to smell the meat." So She sniffed the air a little bit. She smelled meat, but she smelled something else.

"That's odd." She mummbled, "Why would someone have that at a party like this?" She kept that in mind as she went to a buffet table and grabbed some meat to eat. She smiled. Melethia was getting the meat she wanted. Guess she just didn't look hard enough the first time for the meat.

Roy cursed his mistake silently, realizing who was around him. He should have known better than to use his father's name around his mother! The last time he had even mentioned his name was back at the incident with the Heroes, and his mother clearly suffered from shock concerning that. When the hell would he learn his mistake and not bring up that name?

Sure enough, it wasn't even a few minutes later when his mother had fallen to her knees, tears streaming down her face. His arms shot out to catch his mother, but he was a moment too late. He sighed wearily. Once again...it was his fault. He was a horrible son for making his poor mother cry. Sometimes he wondered if he was the cause of all the pain she was having, even when he was just a child.

"Sorry Mother..." he muttered, his eyes hidden behind his flaming hair.

He passed the staff for one of his Uncles to hold (it didn't matter which one, as long as one of them held it) before he knelt next to the dragon dancer. He tried to think of a way to move his mother to somewhere she could rest without making the carry seem awkward or bring her any more pain. But even so...she probably did not need or want his help and would probably continue to say she was alright. But that would only bring more pain to her. And the pain would be doubled for the young lord, having to watch his mother struggle with her wounds and suffer. He wanted to help, but she would probably just deny the pain even more.

A hush over the crowd.

The mage silently raised his head, wine still sweet upon his lips as the quiet steadily surged from the entrance all the way to his secluded corner. Under normal circumstances, another guest would have drawn no attention, no concern. But the raven's weapon was clearly drawn and the faint aroma of smoke did not encourage any ease.

He observed in mute apathy as the partygoers cast their eyes toward their guest. Some bore expressions of illness, some irritation that they had been so rudely interrupted. Some did not appear to pay any attention until they too became aware of the quiet, of the critical yet somehow lost look that glazed over the laguz's ornament. The reflection of the great hall was clearly warped in the shimmering surface of that mask.

He stared toward the raven from his corner. She was here — and at the same time, not. And that meant she was here to claim her purpose.

Soren raised his glass as though toasting to the masked herald. A partygoer slowly shifted by, obscuring the mage from all field of vision for a mere second. And when the stranger moved away, all that remained was Fa, sleeping soundly in that chair as though she'd been alone all along, as though the Branded researcher had never been there. No imprints. No trail. No wine glass, no shadow.

He was gone...





May I have your attention, please! Tonight marks a very special occasion. As you are well aware of, the trees have begun to wither, shedding their leaves in a delightful display of fiery raiments. Our crops have begun to burst with bountiful yield, our drinks as aged as the most ancient of seasons! Tonight we welcome a sacred spirit at our doorstep. Tonight we are visited by the messengers of the gods whom govern the dark year, the gods whom we pay tribute to in a vain attempt to purchase their mercy. Ladies and gentlemen, I offer a toast! A toast to the Autumn! A toast to Suffering! Hear ye, one and all, we toast tonight to the Blood Harvest...!

Now I'm stuck here
But I don't belong here

I wanna be where you are
Maybe I'm not so far from home

"...Mom? Kid, you must be drunker than you look, if you think I'm your mom. Now shut up." Crossing her arms and glaring at him like he was dumber than a slab of meat, Ayra cuffed him roughly on the side of his head as she heard him mumble like an idiot and correct himself. Whoever this upstart brat was, clearly no one taught him proper drunken etiquette! No matter how piss drunk a man got, making a woman cry like that was simply uncalled for.

Goddess forbid if he was some kind of fetishist in older women, the little creep. Still, though, she took a cocktail napkin and helped clean him up. At the very least, it was her duty as Crew to make sure that all of the guests were taken care of, down to the dirty little cretins like this one that seemed all too happy to prey on the feelings of women. Oh, well. If he tried to get fresh with her, she'd have a thing or two to tell him with her fists.

Who just made a woman--

GRANNY?

Without a thought- quite literally- her fist had slammed into the side of his face from the sheer shock of it all. Her body had been conditioned to react immediately when faced with shock, as it was always better to act, rather than to freeze. Of course, Dietrich would be more than happy to disagree with the notion, seeing as her fist was ringing with pain and the sound of her hand slamming into his cheek still rang in her ears.

"Granny Ayra? Just who the hell are you, kid?"

The word 'Granny' struck her like a ton of bricks, and she suddenly realized why he had called her 'mom'.

Immediately, flashes of hair dark as hers and the looking up of two gray eyes told her everything she needed to know. She reeled back as if struck, and looked to Arashe for some semblance of confirmation. Surely he didn't think ******** interruption made her mood no better. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and though she knew the faces, her eyebrow lifted carefully at the sight of a weapon in the laguz's hand.

Married to a king of beasts, she knew well enough that no such thing should be there. She kept her mouth shut, for once, and did not react when Soren raised his glass to salute the woman. ...Surely it was all right, if the tactician was at ease.

Ayra toasted to no one.