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...Injured with pain and sadness, the you that cannot be healed
Shoulder the burden of the past that cannot be erased; don't throw away your will to live...

Clara wandered the streets of Eyris. She has a different change of clothes then a few months ago. It was a bit colder, but not as cold as it was in Leara mind you, but cold. She was wearing a white jacket, white boots, black stockings and a purple battle dress. Her sword was on her left hip like it always was. She wouldn't go anyway without it. She didn't want to get attacked by a random person.

She was currently looking for this place called the Hostess Club or something like that. She heard it was a good place for a good breakfast meal. Not that there was anything wrong with breakfast at the Duke's head, she just wanted to try someplace else. There was nothing wrong with that.

"Now where is it?" She said out loud. Poor Clara, she's been here for a few months and still doesn't know exactly where everything is.

"Damn that old man," Rajin growled low as he dropped the grocery bags on the ground when he stopped at the corner of the marketplace. Seriously, did the Hawk King really need ten different types of utensils and plates? This was a tavern he was working in, not a fancy restaurant.

The tiger pulled out a small pouch from his pocket and looked inside. He let out a small frown. He was running low on catnip. It was not that he wanted to get high like all other feline laguz did (since catnip had no effect on tiger), but he needed to calm down. And that damn cook was getting on his nerve sometimes.

"Guess I have to restock them later." Rajin muttered as he stuffed his pouch into his pocket. He then grabbed the grocery bags of fragile plates and utensils in one hand while the big sack of foods with the other. Seeing that the sack was big and had lots of stuff, he would have to lift it over his shoulder (not that it was heavy for him.)

With one swing, he lifted the sack off the ground and over his shoulder. Unfortunately, he also heard a yelp too, followed by a thump noise. Curious of what was that, Rajin looked around the corner.

There, sitting on the floor, was a yellow-haired beorc. The tiger cocked his eyebrow at the beorc, curious. Somehow, he didn't know that it was his fault for making the beorc fell. "Hey, what are you doing on the floor?"

He couldn't remember.

The snow radiated a nostalgia he failed to place, the morning sky a painting he could swear he might have glimpsed a time beforehand. His thoughts sputtered and gasped, trying in utter vain to cling to what bled away from his mind, for he could feel shadows of the past dissipating to nothing and leaving him with only obscure clues of what he'd done in the previous year. He was walking, this much was certain. He walked through the marketplace and the snow beneath his shoes were already ruined by the footfalls of countless others.

Someone was touching him. The mage whipped around, frightening off the hand that had settled on his shoulder. Before him stood a figure so familiar that even he was daunted, and yet he was unable to place any name or memory to the figure. Something told him that the stranger was a woman. She seemed to gaze at him in something like tacit sadness, her eyes hidden underneath a black hood that shadowed her features. The woman's cloak was adorned in a variety of mystical amulets and charms. She must have been a fortune teller or something similar. He realized he was still moving, moving away from her, staggering into the crowd as the distance between them lengthened.

The woman turned, weighed down by the shadow of loss, and disappeared into the bustling marketplace.

I know that woman, he thought, mildly perplexed by a lack of his own concern, I know her. But from where? She is not possessed of a mortal aura. She can't be human.

Still he moved, further and further until he too was swallowed up by common peoples. Without warning the mage was conscious of his own self. He was enrobed in bright fabrics that were as stainless as newly fallen snow, a blemish among the commoners and the browns and greys and yellows. He tried to summon to mind how he had come here. He vaguely remembered arranging for a wagon. He recalled escorting someone to someplace. Perhaps it was that woman, and yet the image faded further and further to oblivion. He might have been frustrated had he not lacked...a certain passion. This, too, confused the young man, and he dug about in his memories for the cause of that as well while he observed the goings-on about him.

He remembered being split in half and remembered losing a sense of individuality.

How strange.

The mage glanced back, and he saw nothing aside from more strangers for whom he bore no concern. He then wondered why he was glancing back at all. Indeed, he had forgotten that just a moment ago there had been a woman's hand on his shoulder. He forgot that there had been any woman at all. Flustered by the utter absence of memory and logic, he turned toward the heart of the marketplace. The mage at least recalled why he was here. He'd planned to return to his former duties, or at least take up similar tasks to fulfill his illusionary excuse of a life. He was also to hunt down his other half. Why this was, he could not recall either.

Soren slowly ambled into the midst of the crowd, forgetting Ashera's face.

Seeing that he was not the only customer now, Ziaram got up and moved over towards the cat and...wolf? Well he had seen a lot of things that were strange to him, and this was only another one of them. Still a bit shocked at all of the kinds of people around here. Sitting at a table closer to Sunil and...whoever the wolf was, he waited for Blossom to come and take his order. In the meantime he would listen in to whatever Sunil and the wolf were talking about. It isn't like I have something better to do. Besides, I may as well try to learn some more about these people...laguz I think they are called.

Elly peered over to Tristai once she entered the shop and moved herself from the hairpins to some cute minature top hats that had different types of decoration.

She picked up one that had a red and white ribbon wrapped around the back and tied in a bow. The sniper took off her own hat and held one hand with the small hat up to her own head, checking her reflection in the small mirror that hanged on the column just behind the rack. Cute, but buying it was probably not going to happen. So she put it back on the shelf, and popped her white one back on her head and looked around the shop a little bit more.

"Oh!" she squeeked, trotting over to a shelf that had brooches well crafted from glass. Of course, Elly picked up one that was a pink bear and tilted her head, poking it on its tiny nose and let out a soft giggle. It was cute..too cute actually..just as cute as that teddy bear she had saw earlier. Elhaym stood up straight, waving to the ranger to grab her attention on over.

Ah, what a dismally cold day. It was, of course, cold, as it tends to be, during the winter. A bit of wind, and a few inches of snow on the ground, and Rei has a recipe for complaining. Why was he even outside, again? Just because it was the new year didn't mean he had to go out and romp in the snow. He should be inside, curled up by the fireplace, reading a good- Oh yeah. He needed to go shopping for tomes. Rei couldn't reasonably subsist on Erebus and Apocalypse all the time, after all.

Really, they were both... a bit tattered. Using Erebus... a good five or more times, each time a massive assault came upon Eyris. At least ten uses in the Asami fiasco, two or so in the Heroes debacle, and a good five or so during the Harvest Festival. Put that all together with his recent few uses breaking up that fight during the last party, and the thing could easily be dwindling! And Apocalypse got used left and right, whenever possible, and there's no getting another of that. And sure, he had that Fenrir tome, but he could only use that for so long, before it became a risk, too.

So, he dropped by the same Vendor shop that he did during the Harvest Festival to get those staves, and spent a good amount of time perusing the Dark Tomes. Sure, Flux was cheap, but it was... weak. He didn't need Noseferatu, since he could heal himself with the Mend Staff's effects. So, after a bit of searching, he opted for... a more exotic tome, called Verrine. The shopkeep said it was from... a foreign land, or something. Knowing his luck, it came from one of the many worlds that linked to Learania, and it was just replicated. Still, with how much it cost him, it sure as heck better be powerful!

But, as he made his way out of the shop, he spied a familiar face passing by. But it looked like just that, to him, a face, a floating head. As he cautiously walked closer, he saw that the man was actually in garbs of pure white, a massive contrast to his typical black robes. But he looked... confused. Kind of like a lost child in a market. Just the sight of a man said to be an unparalleled tactician with that demeanor, it was chilling. And... after the rather vivid head trip that happened in the conclusion of the attacks during the Harvest Festival... he wanted answers. If anyone would have answers, it would be Soren. Probably.

So, he took a deep breath, shoving away his awkward, nervousness (he thought the guy was dead, after all), and approached Soren. With a calm sigh, he placed a hand on the Sage's shoulder, stopping his slow steps. "So, what are you doing here?"