The sound of Caedes' voice coming through his hood distracts the fellblood for a moment. He was relieved to hear the changeling sounded okay for the most part, and if the man was not shouting for help that meant the fellblood's sister must be alright as well. He quickly responds.^[1]

Yes, we have Snow, get clear of the building.

Snow was spooked by what had just happened, but there was no time to dally. The earth was still shaking at their feet and the building was crumbling all around them. They had to get out. Now.

Zarius grabs the catfolk's sleeve and pulls them around to go out in front of him. "Go!" He then looks at Vail who was staring at him intensely. He glances down at the golden light radiating from the man's fist. Damn that holy light. 

"Vail, we do not have time for this," he speaks as calmly as he can before the man's senses seem to return to him. Once he sees Vail has recovered, he gives the man an encouraging shove towards the door. "No time, we will talk about it later! Just go!"

He's not far behind them as they rush out back into the lounge just as Caedes was helping Eirynor get Eameia through the door as her concentration was entirely on keeping the roof from crushing them into paste. The poor girl's arms shook with physical exhaustion and strain from the magic needed to maintain the spell. She's broken out in a sweat as she struggles to keep the spell from flickering out until everyone is clear. Eirynor resorts to just scooping her up and carrying her out while Ebony still clung desperately to Caedes. 

Zarius makes sure everyone is clear of the door when there's another crack as a support beam in the roof splinters. Using a burst of adrenaline, he dives out of the door after everyone and sommersaults back up onto his feet just as they're all engulfed in a cloud of dust and ash as the roof fills in the space behind them.^[2]

The cloud of ash stings their lungs and make it impossible to breath for a moment, not to mention it left them all blind as they stumbled about as the ground continues to tremble beneath their feet. They weren't in the clear yet. There's more sounds of crumbling walls and stone cracking as other nearby buildings start to collapse. 

A large fissure splits the cobblestone road and opens up into a gaping hole, filing in more of the underground passageways that crisscross below the streets. 

Zarius wheezes and covers his mouth. It was impossible for them to communicate like this. Thankfully he could get one more message to Caedes without needing words. 

We need to keep moving and stay away from the buildings. 

Closing his eyes and focusing on his other sense, Zarius stumbles around until he finds the back of Vail's coat and he grabs onto it. He hears Snow also nearby and reaches out for the sensation of their fluffy pelt. Once he has both hands grabbing onto them, he starts to drag them down the road. It helped that he at least knew these streets like the back of his hand. 

Once clear of the debris cloud, he'd let go and try to catch his breath, though the smoke is still thick in the air thanks to some fires that have started to spread from broken home to broken home. He looks around anxiously for Caedes, Eirynor, and his sister despite how badly the smoke and ash stun his eyes. 

---

[1] Red Rogue Hood
[2] Adrenaline Burst (1/2 per topic)

Zarius’s shove came just as Vail was finishing his sentence, and while he would normally take offense to such a gesture, now was certainly not the time to complain. He follows Snow, who, while somewhat shaken, is still far more familiar with the tavern's layout than he is. The sound of Zarius's footsteps is not far behind him, giving him at least some small sense of relief. There were no doubt countless items of sentimental value here, but the fellblood clearly had enough sense not to go after them.

He is somewhat surprised to see the lounge still standing when they finally reach it. Eameia’s magic was holding but not for long, as she struggled to keep herself stable. The rest of their party had already cleared the door, giving them an open path out of the collapsing building. Vail dashes forth as fast as possible, careening toward the building’s exit with no concern for what dangers may await outside^[1]. His foot lands outside the door frame just as Eameia’s spell gives way, causing the roof to collapse momentarily afterwards.

Vail tumbles onto the cobblestone street, the fresh ash doing little to break his fall. He pauses momentarily as the ground continues to rumble around him, the street splitting open a few meters away. Despite the imminent danger, he can't help but wonder if this is a warning to him. It had been eight long years since he’d set foot in this city, and yet the moment he returns an unprecedented calamity befalls his former home. While anyone else would merely disregard the events as a coincidence, Vail had experienced far too much to not dwell on it. His brief but sudden loss of control also weighed on him. As he rises to feet, his mind lingers on the event that occurred within that backroom.

Why here and why now? It didn't hurt anyone this time, but still… there wasn’t even a warning. I was here one moment and gone the next. Is this how it’s going to be from now? Ripped away whenever it damn well pleases?

A brief feeling of listlessness falls over him as he is suddenly pulled by the back of his coat. As his feet cooperate with the force, seemingly unconsciously, he squints towards the rumble that nearly ended him once again. The sight of the destruction pulls him back to senses, providing a reminder that he wasn’t here for his own well-being, but rather, the opposite.

He looks back at the person pulling him, barely able to see through the thick cloud of ash and dust. A pair of black horns was the only detail solid enough to pierce through the haze, indicating to him that Zarius had made it out as well. Judging by how rapidly his head was moving, the fellblood was quite distraught, no doubt still concerned for the rest of his companions. Vail struggles as he attempts to speak, his voice growing increasingly hoarse with each word.

“Find them… and leave the city.”

---

[1] Bare hands: dashing enchantment

Yes, we have Snow, get clear of the building.

The sound of the Rookery collapsing as Eameia, Eirynor, and Caedes flee it is deafening; the structure groans as it collapses in on itself. Heavy debris from the clocktower cracks against the path outside, leaving branching fractures in the cobblestone and grout. He holds his breath as dust rises from the earth following its collapse— a hand on Eirynor’s back — as he damn near pushes them out the door with Eameia in their arms in the hurry.

It all collapses behind them in a useless heap; and in his rush to ensure they get out; he does not see Zarius when the fellblood emerges from the backroom.

He keeps moving, staggering when the earth opens up outside the Rookery and reveals the labyrinth of passageways down below. It’s hard to see through the cloud of debris and dust that erupt from the fissure, but Caedes pushes next to Eirynor to block the inside closest to the gap— at least attempting to ensure that if anyone falls inside— it would be him. Anxiety tightens his chest as the walls of other buildings begin to crumble; the street cracks; and foundations shatter. Shocked voices, drowned by the cacophony of tremors, fill the air as silhouettes rush out onto the Main Street to escape their collapsing homes and places of business.

We need to keep moving and stay away from the buildings.

Thank the dead gods; it’s a relief to hear his voice; even amongst the hellscape that the Darkveil streets have become. He slows his pace beside Eirynor, looking anxiously over his shoulder before he speaks. “Keep going and stay away from the buildings. I’m going to go find Zarius— take care of her, we’ll catch up.”

And with that, the changeling spins around; he uses his cloak like a mask as he dashes back into the cloud of debris; and returns to the same direction where they had once come. He trusts Eirynor with Eameia; the elf is more than capable of protecting—

GODS, OW.

Fuck, he forgot he had the cat in his shirt.

Caedes winces, clutching Ebony to him in an attempt to stop her from squirming. He brushes past silhouette after silhouette; people are cowering; they’re wailing; they’re shocked. He too, feels some numb shock at the devastation at hand; but he skims over crumbled houses and broken streets. The fact that the Rookery is gone has yet to truly process with him. 

He swiftly brushes past the people, skimming each silhouette for a familiar fellblood; a familiar catfolk; or a significantly less familiar Vail amongst them— hoping to find them and lead them back to Eameia and Eirynor before yet another tremor can rock the earth they're standing on and separate them further.

Outside is just as chaotic as inside the Rookery was for those brief moments. Buildings crumble and people flee in droves like ants crawling out of a rotten piece of wood as it burns on a campfire. There's panic everywhere the adventurers look and the screams of fear and mourning are only drowned out by the continued cracking and crashing of stone. 

It's a damned mess. 

Zarius barely hears Vail as he drags him and Snow into a gap in the smoke, a small area of reprieve for just a moment. He takes a breath only for the back of his throat to burn intensely from the smoke, worse than it normally ever does even on the regular. He hacks and coughs, covering his mouth and grimacing as he resists doubling over in front of Vail and Snow. 

Not now.

He repeats the thought in his head as a means to try and keep the whispers he knows are not far behind the burning sensation in his throat. Vail was already acting weird. They couldn't risk both being overtaken when the situation is so dire and the ground could literally fall away from beneath their feet at any moment. 

"Snap out of it," he manages to choke out. It's unclear if he is directing the comment at Vail or himself, but then he regains some composure and continues. "Keep your wits about you. I know where we can go."

As much as he wants to regroup with Caedes, Eirynor, and his sister as soon as possible, he knows that Eameia would have the same thoughts as him on where to go. It would be better to just start heading there rather than getting swept up in the chaos, especially with Snow already injured.

"Come on," he urges Vail to follow him through the clouds of smoke, ash, and dust. Snow gives Vail a grateful look for the earlier save and then falls in step behind Zarius, doing their best to ignore the pain wracking their body. 

---

"Wait, wait, Caedes!" Eameia calls after him, but her fingertips just miss the edge of his cloak as he runs back into the cloud of debris. She curses breathlessly then shouts in hopes that the changeling will hear. "Tell him we are going to the manor!"

She watches as the assassin disappears into the cloud and out of view as her grip on Eirynor's shoulders tightens. Eirynor gives her a bit of a reassuring look before carrying her off to a safer location away from the collapsing buildings and sunken streets.

Ebony continues to squirm against being restrained by Caedes, though she does eventually stop shredding his skin into ribbons with her tiny knife-sharp claws. 

Vail struggles to a more stable posture as he hears Zarius hack and cough. As much as he feels like other crap, the last thing he wants is to be a burden upon everyone else. As the fellblood struggles out a command, Vail can’t help but grin. Whether it’s a vain attempt to lighten the mood, or just simply a mocking of the obviousness of Zarius’s statement, Vail offers him a raspy response. “I’ve been… on guard… since I arrived here… My wits could use… a break.”

Still suffering under the effects of the collapse’s smoke and dust, Vail’s eyes struggle to stay open as they follow the fellblood. As the trio stumble their way forward, he spies various people moving through the streets, almost all of them seemingly in a state of panic. For the exceptions, he debated whether they were in a state of shock or whether their calmness came from more nefarious intentions. He shakes his head in response to the callousness of such a thought. Not even the Fathers would want this level of collateral damage done; it would disrupt business after all.

He wonders for a brief moment if any of these citizens might recognize him. Even if there was an acquaintance among the carnage, they likely wouldn’t recognize given how much he had changed physically. Hells, if they did recognize him, seeing a ghost would likely be on the lower end of their concerns. While this was likely the worst day of many of the denizen’s lives, rich or poor, Vail unfortunately could not count himself among them.

His contemplation is suddenly broken as his wandering eyes catch a glance from Snow. He gives the Catfolk a nod of acknowledgement, before looking back to Zarius, pondering what priority is determining the fellblood's path.

Initially, he figured that Zarius, Vail, and Snow couldn’t have possibly gotten far; he had not seen them leave the Rookery, but Zarius’ voice is enough to tell him that he’s at the very least still breathing. Although, the sight of the Rookery itself once the dust has cleared, is… Caedes lingers for a moment, his boots placed firmly on either side of a crack in the cobblestone.

Charlotte is curled in his arms, and Ebony is still in his shirt. God damn, the scratches she’s left thus far sting like hell; and he can still feel her little claws burrowing into his waist to keep hold; but it’s fine. Caedes will take care of it later, because seeing the Rookery utterly devastated the way it is does something to sober him up from the adrenaline of everything that’s happened.

He’s… being a bit irrational, isn’t he?

Zarius is fine. He doesn’t need Caedes to find him, but he probably needs him to make it to the manor with Eameia and Eirynor.

He runs a hand through his hair, swallowing as he makes out pieces of the clock — once positioned high in the clock tower— but now a shattering of decorative and complicated elements. The bar has been completely buried— there is no aspect of the lobby they’d been cleaning just a few fucking minutes ago which is left standing— it’s simply gone.

Unrecognizable.

The realization smarts; this is the second time that somewhere he’s called home has been destroyed.

“_Caedes…” Charlotte squeaks, her eight eyes big while she gazes at the destruction left behind. 

Somewhere, a child wails, adding to the eerie atmosphere, as the rumbles slowly begin to fade underfoot. Caedes doesn’t respond, just lays a hand over the back of Charlotte’s abdomen; he clears his throat, looking cautiously around himself before he starts to move. He circles around what’s left of the Rookery, doing his best to control a startling amount of sobering ‘What If’s and ‘What Now’s that come to the forefront of his mind as he jogs across the street to the other side.

“We’ll head to the manor; maybe we’ll meet them halfway, or meet up with Eameia and Eirynor again.” He breathes, resting Charlotte on her shoulder; he plays a game of musical legs with the spider while he pulls off his cloak, letting Charlotte readjust with each tug of the fabric. "But first..." he sighs, looking at the lump in his shirt; he moves to cautiously unbutton the top couple of buttons in order to remove the eldritch abomination with her damn claws still in his side.

… He doesn’t want her to haul ass once he gets her out, though, so once he pulls Ebony from the confines of his shirt, he’s quick to wrap her up despite any struggle— ultimately folding the feline into a clumsy eborrito with his cloak. Thankfully Darkveil is not exactly well-renowned for its bright sunlight; always masked behind the smoke, which grows thicker from Mount Drakolt by the day... so right now, the cloak isn't a necessity for him.

... He does admittedly feel weird without it, though.

"This is the thanks I get, huh?" he groans, holding the eborrito close and briefly inspecting the damage done before he lets his shirt fall back into place. 

With the cat and Charlotte safe and secured at least, though, he starts to head towards his last recollection of the manor's location with the hopes of, at least, reuniting with Eameia and Eirynor.

It's not long before Zarius' group comes into view of a large manor with a tall wrought iron fence around the perimeter of the property. Oddly enough, while the surrounding buildings show clear signs of damage from the tremors, the manor stands pristine, as if the earthquake was unable to touch it at all. 

It's a large mansion, three stories tall in the front with wings to either side lined with darkened windows looking out over a well-manicured lawn and meticulously trimmed hedges and bushes. The wings look like they go back a fair way, possibly to wrap around an interior courtyard hidden behind the front façade of the building. The front of the manor is impressive, and somewhat imposing in how it looms over the property. Whoever lives here clearly is in the upper echelon of wealth in Darkveil. 

At the front gates are a number of armed militia wearing dark leathers accented with bits of silver armor. They're visibly equipped with heavy crossbows and various types of swords which are already drawn and at the ready as if anticipating trouble at any moment. They glance about alertly, eyes trained on anyone who tries to approach the property as the chaos continues in the streets of the surrounding city.  

Zarius doesn't break his pace, leading Vail and Snow right up to the armed force at the front gates. There's a look of recognition on the faces of the guards, but they still move to intercept the group and raise their loaded crossbows defensively. Mostly at Vail, whom they do not recognize.

The fellblood waves them off, signaling something with a hand gesture and then uttering some passphrase in an odd language. He then glances back and gestures to Vail.

"He's a friend."

The guards exchange uncertain glances with one another before stepping aside and letting them pass. Two of the guard move to flank them on either side and escort them up the path leading to the front of the mansion.

Another pair of guards stand ready on the landing up a few steps at the front of the building. They nod in acknowledgment before one leaves their post by the door to let them inside the building.

"Inside, quickly," the guard urges in a hushed tone before they steps through the door with the group. The guard is an older-looking sun elf woman with a longsword strapped to her side. She waits until the front door swings closed with a heavy thud behind them before bowing to Zarius specifically. "We're relieved to see you are unharmed, Master Zarius."

The fellblood gives her a nod. "Likewise, but things are a mess."

Things certainly were a mess, but there is little time to lament the loss of the Rookery. They had people unaccounted for, and while they had reached the safety of the mansion, the same could not be said for the others just yet. 

"Tell the gate guard to keep an eye out for my sister and Eirynor. They'll likely have a white-haired woman named Mei with them. Let her in as well," Zarius instructs as the woman rises back to stand at her full height. "Anyone from Shade's Orphanage should be given refuge as well," he adds. "How quickly can we send a patrol to check on them?"

Her lips draw taught across her face. "We haven't heard any reports back from those stationed to guard that area yet. A few patrols from the surrounding districts retreated here with minor injuries. Once they are cleared, we can send them back out to assess that damage."

"Prioritize the orphanage and the Rookery. The building isn't accessible anymore, but we need to secure the area until we can recover whatever survived."

Her brows furrow for a moment before she nods. "Of course." She then glances at Vail, a face unfamiliar to her which visibly results in some wariness from the woman. "Do you require an escort?"

"No. Please focus on your duties."

She nods and bows again, excusing herself before leaving the three men there in the immaculate entryway of the manor's main foyer.

Taking a moment to catch their breath allows Vail to take in these new surroundings. The ceilings are tall, stretching up high over their head and almost feeling like a cathedral in the spindly arches that support the ceiling. The foyer opens up quickly into a grand central hall with two large sweeping staircases that lead to numerous other halls and doorways. Masterfully painted landscapes hang in glossy wooden frames on each wall, and vases filled with local flowers bring pops of color to the otherwise darkly colored space. The dim, warm lights reflect off the polished floors, and it's in the flickering reflection that Vail can just faintly make out something a bit odd.

Every few seconds, there's a distant rumble from outside, yet all is still around them in the mansion except for a faint flick of some transparent veil that seems to enshroud every surface. At just the right moment and angle, Vail would even see faint runic symbols scrawled on the walls marking the hundreds of intricate wards that magically protect the mansion from structural damage and other threats. The whole place buzzes with hidden arcane enchantments.

The home, the guards, the magical protections. Someone sure wasted no expense. 

"Snow," Zarius' voice echoes in the large vacuous space. "We will wait here for the others. You should get your injuries looked at."

The catfolk looks a bit reluctant but does not argue and looks at Vail. "Thank you." With that, the catfolk heads down one of the halls, a slight limp in their step as they go. 

Zarius sighs and tucks his hands into his pockets as his foot taps anxiously against the floor. It's hard to keep his mind from imagining a hundred and one things that could go wrong with Eameia, Eirynor, and Caedes still out there. Hopefully, with any luck, they were only a little ways behind them. 

Luck, fortunately, is on their side in this one regard, as it is not long before Eirynor rushes up to the gates with Eameia in his arms. The guards are quick to offer their aid, but the young fellblood starts putting up a fuss.

"Is my brother here?"

"Yes, ma'am," answers one of the gate guards. "We just let him in."

"Who was with him?" She presses. 

"Snow and some dark-haired man with facial scars."

Snow and Vail, but no mention of Caedes or his alternative identity. She looks back out at the devastated city with obvious concern on her face. 

"Ma'am, you should get to safety," the guard tries to usher her and Eirynor through the gates. 

"No, we are waiting on someone."

"YOUNG LADY!" The older elven woman shouts from the front steps of the house. "GET INSIDE!"

"WE ARE WAITING ON SOMEONE!" Eameia snaps back.

The elven woman looks utterly offended at the retort and puts her hands on her hips as if dealing with an indignant child. Which she was. 

Eameia looks back out at the city with a huff. "Come on, come on come on come on." She mutters under her breath, gripping Eirynor tighter and stubbornly refusing to let go or let them take her inside until Caedes or Mei finally joins them. 

Vail keeps his low as he follows Zarius, only looking up once the fellblood’s pace slows. His eyes drift upward toward a rather curious sight, a fanciful mansion untouched by the surrounding catastrophe. This wasn’t his first time seeing the building, it was kind of hard to miss such a fanciful structure, albeit he had never ventured this close. His prior caution is immediately justified as the heavily armed guards immediately point their crossbows in his direction, despite the presence of their young master. The weapons lower at Zarius' words, but even as they are allowed passage through the front gates, Vail can sense their distrust. The escorts’ eyes all but burn a hole through his back, their hands ready to pull the trigger should he dare to make any sudden movements.

The pale man can’t help but let out a light chuckle of sheer disbelief as he spots yet another set of guards in front of the manor. How many able-bodied people do they have standing idly by as the world quite literally collapses around them? How is this any different from the royal family, hiding behind their walls and army, uncaring of how the populace suffers? Despite how these thoughts anger Vail, he does his best to hold his tongue as a member of the guard moves to let the trio inside.

As they pass through the heavy doors Vail can’t help but smirk; he'd never thought he would step foot in this manor, well at least not through the front door. His eyes idly scan the surroundings as the sun elf guard and Zarius talk, only looking back to the fellblood when he mentions a woman named Mei as well as an orphanage. His statements give Vail a small sense of relief, at least there was someone here willing to help those less fortunate.

He pays no mind to the guard’s glance of suspicion; he received these cautious gazes in all civilized parts of Charon and he certainly felt like a foreigner among such opulence. As the guard finally dismisses herself, Vail returns to observing the grand hall. From the spotless floor to plush furniture, this manor was a far cry from Darkveil’s usual housing. His eyes catch a glimpse of bizarre symbols that glow faintly with each rumble he hears outside, no doubt the source of the structures unrelenting sturdiness. The observation begs a question from the man; why aren’t these enchantments used at the Rookery, or better yet this orphanage Zarius spoke of?

His pondering is cut short as Snow suddenly addresses him. He starts to lift right hand before remembering its uncovered state and instead chooses to lift his left. He gives Snow a light wave to see him off. “No problem, don’t mention it.”

He sits down on a cushioned chair with a sigh as the catfolk departs, shutting his eyes in hopes of a bit of rest after such an ordeal, but the sudden sound of Zarius’ tapping foot keeps him firmly entrenched in the conscious world. The fellblood was no doubt still worried about his sister and the others and the pale man can help but feel some sympathy; he would surely feel the same if he could still call this city home.

He leans his head back against the wall as his calm eyes venture to the fellblood. “You’re clearly still on edge, I don’t blame you, patience is hard to come by when those you care about are at risk. In the meantime, let me tell you a story, that’s how my former caretaker always calmed me down; it helped to take my mind somewhere else.” His eyes drift upwards as he begins, not bothering to wait for Zarius' affirmation.

“Once, there was a man whose ambitions knew no bounds. Every relationship, every favor, every deal, was simply a way for him to extend his power. To further his reach, he created a tool, one born from his own flesh. Despite their ties of blood, the man showed no interest in a family, instead leaving his kin to be raised by his underlings and by the commonfolk who feared his wrath.

The tool was brought into his underworld at a young age, exposed to the acts of cruelty and depravity that no child should witness; yet in spite of this, the child did not break. Through blood, sweat, and tears, the tool endured, finding their own dream separate from the desires of their creator. They carved out their own little haven amongst the crime ridden streets, taking in those whose misfortune outweighed his own. They found their own worth, free to choose their actions rather than serving as mere tools to those in power. Regardless, when they had reached a certain age, the tool was forced to give up their haven, so they could go on living in the future they have always known.

For a time, the tool prospered, easily melding into the criminal empire underneath their creator. Their hands were used to commit the same atrocities they had witnessed during their childhood and should they disobey, those formerly under their care would surely suffer. Despite the tool’s misgivings, there was the possibility of a comfortable life there, until one day everything was shattered.

Whether it be for a bid for more power, or just an action of spite, the tool’s creator betrayed his organization, sacrificing everything he once owned; this of course, included the tool. For their master’s actions the tool suffered, tortured in a vain attempt to hurt someone who was apathetic from the beginning."

Vail's eyes soften as he pauses, taking a moment to push down the feeling that still lingers after so many years.

"When the tool could take no more, they were discarded; left to rot amongst the undying trees, covered in ashfall, like so many before them. This is where the tool’s story should have ended, however fate had a different plan. The tool rose from the ashes, only he was incomp- RGH.”

Vail words are interrupted as he coughs violently, his unwrapped right hand reflexively moving to cover his mouth until the fit ends. He pulls his arm back slowly, his eyes lingering on the pale gray flesh of his palm.

“Apologies, it seems that I breathed in more junk than I thought.”

The pale man rests his head back against the wall letting his eyes wander between the painted landscapes as he continues.

“The tool had recovered from their ordeal, only their recovery was incorrect; their wounds had healed, but at a loss. Their missing appendage had been replaced with an imposter that while functionally identical, offered little sensation. Worse yet, the tool had an affliction, one that stole their free will and replaced it with a cruel savagery should those around them suffer.

With their former life ripped from them, the tool fled, journeying across the lands hoping to find some answer to their illness. For years the tool wandered, visiting healers and practitioners of all sorts in an attempt to rid themselves of their unknown burden. As their leads dwindled, they were forced to look backwards, to the world they had put behind them. In truth, the tool feared returning to their former home; not because of their former associates, but because of what his affliction may do to those they care about. Regardless, the tool returned, seeking out the creator who abandoned them, so that he may find answers to his very being.”

Vail rolls his head against the wall, turning to face Zarius with a smirk.

“This story doesn’t have an ending, well at least, not yet. Tell me, what do you think became of the tool’s creator? After all, we never did get around to my purpose for coming here.”
Vail’s eyes sharpen as his voice changes to a more serious tone.
“I wish to adjust my conditions of employment.”

Before he can get a response, the sound of a door opening pulls the ash lander’s eyes away from the fellblood. It hardly matters, but perhaps it is better that more ears hear his request.

"_Mei…” 

She blinks at Charlotte's voice, drawn from skeptical eyes as she passes families surveying the damage to their properties, shopkeepers sitting outside their places of business with heads held in their hands, and civilians clawing through the debris of their homes. She hums quizzically, tightening her arms around the cat still burrito’d up in her arms. 

“_{The Rookery….}”

Mei looks from the corners of her eyes as smoke billows upwards from somewhere nearby, joining the clouds of ash that linger eternally in the sky of the Ashlands. The groaning of the injured reaches her ears, but she keeps walking without looking for the source.

“I know.” Mei lowers her lashes uncomfortably as she passes by a small gaggle of individuals crowded around broken lantern lights on the street. She keeps to the shadows the best she can. Charlotte is quiet for a short time; and once they are relatively alone again, she speaks. 

“_{It’s gone.}”

“I… I know, Char.”

Charlotte taps her little legs against her shoulder, lowering her head against the wrinkles of Mei’s ill-fitting shirt for support. “What happens now…? The Rookery was our home.”

Mei looks over her shoulder at the arachnid; and although she cannot emote, the way she holds herself heavy against her for support tells her that something’s not quite right. That something’s upsetting her, and… and Mei hasn’t even let it fully settle in yet, honestly.

What does happen now?

This makes twice that Mei has stood in front of a place she’s called home, and watched the smoke rise from its crumbling remnants. It leaves something numb and empty behind. She has always known to some extent that their ‘home’ in the Rookery wasn’t exactly a home; that it was temporary; and that their stay there could end at any time. She would have never expected it to end like this; but it had ended all the same. 

Mei tightens her hold around the Eborrito, brows knitting as she turns a corner.

“We meet with the others and worry about it when the time comes. Okay?” Mei whispers back; but she knows the words are hardly comforting.

The same lobby that they had spent hours cleaning lies in the dust; a place that shared laughter, tears, and a whole lot of drunken bastards when the time of day was just right. Mei knows, too, that Charlotte liked to have a place to put her web that didn’t need to be swiped away before they left; even if Eameia complained now and then; the arachnid was happy just to be somewhere stable. Her little collection of souvenirs now lie in the rubble underneath everything else; her dried flowers from Kvasir, candy wrappers from Beist, and other little trinkets she’s picked up.

When Charlotte doesn’t respond, Mei reaches a hand back to rest on her back.

“I’m sorry, Char. No matter what happens, it’s going to be okay.” Without thinking, she repeats something her mother told her such a long time ago— one she finds so terribly, unfortunately, true. “We can replace things, but we can’t replace each other.”

---

It isn’t long before Mei finally does arrive at the manor after taking a longer route, with the hopes of shaking off anything, or anyone, who might try to wander after her in the dazed aftermath. Her boots click against the cobblestone in the eerie quiet after the rumblings; unsettled dust and ash swirl around her feet.

She narrows her eyes against the silhouettes gathered near the manor; and for a moment, halts.

She… hasn’t actually been here before.

Discomfort swirls within her chest, but the familiar silhouette waiting at the gates at least gives her some reason to continue approaching them— otherwise, she’s not sure if she could have continued in her right mind.

To approach the home of an Ashen Father, unbidden?

She doesn’t have a death wish.

Mei eyes both of the guards cautiously as she approaches, her steps staggering before they slow; and then she settles her gaze on Eameia. “Eameia,” she greets hesitantly, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find them in the mess; did they make it back…?” She offers the cloak-wrapped Ebony, her head and big yellow eyes still peeking out from the fabric. “I did bring your brother’s stupid cat, though. Wouldn’t recommend letting her out until you get inside.”

She looks sideways at the guards before she speaks again. “The Rookery’s in shambles; the whole city, really. It’s only a matter of time before people stop grieving and start looting; if there’s anything sensitive that's been left back there, it’s going to need to be guarded.”

Relief washes over Eameia’s face as she sees Mei appear out of the smoke-filled streets.

“They’re inside already.” She signs to Eirynor to let her down. The half-elf is reluctant but puts her back on her feet. Eameia’s still a bit shaky as she accepts the Eborrito from Mei, though that hardly stops her from reaching for Mei’s sleeve and pulling her along towards the front doors of the manor. 

The older elven woman standing at the door, puts her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at Mei as she approaches.

“Miss Aubrey, Eirynor can lead a patrol back to the Rookery once it’s safe.”

Eirynor doesn't look thrilled with that idea, but doesn't protest.

The elven woman glances between them all before speaking. “We’ll worry about all that, just get inside.” She steps aside and allows Eameia and Mei to pass her and the other guards at the front doors.

---

Before Mei and Eameia arrive, Vail and Zairus are left to wait. Vail passes the time by regaling Zarius with a story, though the fellblood is skeptical that perhaps it is more just to fill the silence with something other than the tap of the fellblood's boot tip. 

It doesn’t take long for a frown to cross his face. Vail’s story is all too familiar. It’s so damn common in Darkveil that it might as well be a cliche. Many folks got dragged into the criminal underground to just be used and then discarded. Some willingly join in, others are born or coerced into it, and most feel they have no other choice. It happens so often that it’s one of the main reasons many criminal families end up self-destructing or being backstabbed by the people they use as nothing more than disposable pawns.

What Vail is describing is not hard at all for Zarius to imagine. He’s seen it before. Family turning on one another. Hells, he could have easily been born into a family like that. It’s only luck that he wasn't. A shame that Vail's luck was not as good. 

The fellblood's eyes flit to the man when he coughs. He's tempted to tell Vail not to strain himself, but a part of him is curious to see where the story will go. Was Vail like Caedes? Someone who had returned from the grave through some strange means? It's possible. Vail is a very strange individual, so perhaps the rest of the story explains some of his odd behavior. 

Sure enough, Vail does shed some light on why he has moments where he seems like a different person. It's an inconvenient condition to have to deal with given the state of the world and the line of work Vail has chosen. Suffering was all around them, and as an adventurer, the chances of seeing it firsthand were very high. If the man wanted to avoid losing his mind, he would be better off finding a quiet corner of Charon to settle down in and just farm or something. 

It didn't seem that Vail could bring himself to do that though, at least not without acquiring answers to his questions first. He can sympathize with that sentiment. Not having answers drives him mad as well. 

As Vail's story comes to an end, the fellblood doesn’t get the chance to respond before the door creaks open and a few familiar faces join them in the foyer.

“Finally.” Zarius breathes and steps over to Eameia and hugs her. “Are you hurt?”

“I am fine,” she hugs him back before looking past him at Vail sitting on a couch. “What about you and Vail?”

Zarius side-eyes the man a bit before letting his sister go and shrugging. “He is his usual weird self.”

“I assume that is a good thing?”

“Yet to be seen.” Zarius then looks at Mei, giving a quick head-to-toe look at her. “Are you alright? Did you get cut?”

"She got your cat,” Eameia explains while shoving the Eburrito in his hands.

Zarius blinks and looks down at the swaddled kitten as it's shoved into his hands. “Ah. Sorry.”

“Where is Snow?” Eameia asks as her brother walks over to Vail and unceremoniously dumps Ebony in his lap. 

The cat locks eyes with Vail, as if staring into his soul. 

“Resting,” Zarius replies and steps back over to Eameia and Mei before Vail can protest. 

Eameia then glances at Vail and Mei then back at her brother and signs.

Have you talked to mother and father yet?

Zarius shakes his head.

The younger fellblood makes a bit of an uncertain face. "We will need to make accommodations for everyone for now. I will go get started on that." 

"You need to rest," Zarius insists. 

"I will, you stay here." 

There's a moment of tension between the siblings before Zarius relents. "Alright. Thank you." 

Eameia nods and gives Mei and Vail each a nod as well before she makes her way to the stairs and slowly climbs up to the second story. It's pretty evident that holding up the collapsing building took its toll on her, but now that they're presumably somewhere safe she should recover well enough. 

Zarius looks back at Mei and Vail after his sister has disappeared down a hall. "This place is secure,  you can rest and recover here for now."

Vail stays silent as he sees the relief wash over Zarius’s face upon seeing his sister. It’s a feeling that seems almost foreign to him now, having spent so long only looking out for himself. His eyes wander away from the siblings, aimlessly looking upon the walls once more as he debates whether to move forward with his plan. It would be quite selfish now, to bring down the mood for everyone. Perhaps a bit of respite is the best course of action; a calm state of mind will likely smooth over any issues that arise from his request.

Vail’s attention is drawn back to the siblings upon mention of his name, only to roll his eyes in response to Zarius’s offhand remark; a simple ‘He’s fine.’ would have sufficed.
“Still in one piece.” he mutters, not loud enough to interrupt their conversation.

The shadow of Zarius looming over Vail turns his gaze upward as the fellblood drops the eborrito into his lap. It takes a moment for the pale man to realize what exactly was in the wrapped cloak, seeing only a black swirl before a pair of bright glowing eyes stare back at him. Their eyes lock for what feels like an eternity, neither of them yielding as Zarius continues his conversation with his sister. The contest finally ends as Vail feels a strange movement in his lap, causing him to blink in surprise as he tilts his head to the side. His eyes spot a rhythmic motion from within the wrapped cloak, its fabrics retracting and protracting as the tiny being nestled inside makes their newfound residence more comfortable. The movement is accompanied by a quiet hum, as the cat signals to all of them that it doesn’t intend to return this cloak anytime soon.

The cat’s lounging distracts Vail long enough to allow the fellblood siblings to finish their conservation and the pale man barely catches Eameia’s nod as she departs. Zarius’s words cause Vail’s face to twist into a less than confident expression. He sits back against the plush seat with a soft thud, causing a fair bit of dust and ash to rain down from jacket, no doubt causing quite a hassle for whoever’s in charge of cleaning. He addresses the fellblood with a serious tone as the wrapped feline prevents him from moving.

“That’s easy for you to say, being the veritable prince around here. Any outsider who values their life is well within their rights to feel on edge in this place, regardless of its opulence. I sincerely doubt that I need to explain why.”
The scarred man’s eyes drift away for a brief moment, as his body language betrays the concern he just voiced.
“Still, some proper rest will do us all some good. We can get our affairs sorted once we are all in a calmer state of mind.”

Vail’s eyes wander to Mei as he places a hand atop the wrapped cloak in his lap. Judging by the fact they were in Caedes’s clothes, along with Zarius’s calm demeanor, it was pretty clear that Mei was tied to Caedes in some manner. Vail knew there were various ways to change body in such ways, although he suspected that Mei was more than a physical transformation, judging by how everyone was addressing her. He wonders if there was a reason for this transformation to occur now of all times? Perhaps Caedes couldn’t show himself so publicly or perhaps the transformation was involuntary, like his own. The curiosity was enough to prevent Vail from staying quiet and he addresses the woman with a calm and curious tone.

“So… do I need to introduce myself again? Regardless, I’m a bit curious. If you don’t mind, of course.”

The worried edge in Mei’s expression softens when Eameia confirms that Zarius, Vail, and Snow had already made it inside. She nods and is about to pull away when Eameia grabs onto her sleeve; she originally had no real intention to actually go inside the Rha’Oriyn’s home— it’s not her place, it’s not her home, and she doesn’t want to bring bad luck inside with her.

The fellblood seems to have a different idea, regardless of how many holes the woman at the door glares into her from the entrance.

“Uh, Eameia?” She objects softly, keeping her tone level and calm; the guards are still present, after all. Eameia may trust her, but everyone else here must see the daughter of the house dragging around some ragtag woman off the streets after a natural disaster. “I mean, I can go back with Eirynor, it’s really not a problem. That would probably be easiest for everyone.”

Gods above and below, she’s really going to take her inside.

Mei doesn’t fight back despite her reluctance, ultimately deciding it’s definitely not worth risking spooking any of the armed help that she can or cannot see; but her stomach turns nervously as they approach the home, nonetheless. The elven woman’s narrowed gaze as they approach the doorway is met with a simple smile.

---

“There they are.” When the door opens, Zarius and Vail are on the other side. “Good to see you both in one piece.”

Mei finally sidesteps her way out of Eameia’s grasp, letting Zarius pull his sister into a hug unhindered. There’s a sort of bittersweetness in her chest about their reunion and relief that Mei will not acknowledge, but knows deep down what it is.

… and it’s not fair to push it into this moment, no matter how much she wishes she could hear their voices telling her that, ‘They’re okay’.

She chuckles to offset her nerves, brushing loose strands of platinum behind her ears as she moves her hands to her shirt and starts to button up the slack of her collar. “Hm?” She hums, clicking her last button into place as she glances back at Zarius. She hopes the nerves of being in their home don’t show in her face or her body language while she laughs over Zarius’ apology, hoping it will help ease them.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll send you the medical bills,” she jokes; even her tone holds a slight scratch to it from the irritation of being out in the smoke and debris. “The good news is that your cat has a promising career as a chef; her knife skills? Unmatched. I have been thoroughly minced by her little devil mittens... bad news is that you'll need a new kitchen.” She makes a face while Zarius trots past, unceremoniously dumping Ebony into Vail’s lap. “Careful with that one— she’ll eat you alive when you’re not looking.” She warns, an edge of seriousness to her tone while Ebony proceeds to purr and bake biscuits in her cloak instead of tear Vail apart.

Mei rolls her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose at the contrast.

God, there really is no rest for the wicked, is there? She just saved the feline from an entire crumbling building, and now that Ebony can’t take it out on her, she’s going to poke a thousand little holes into her cloak instead. She can still feel every sting of that cat’s claws in her skin.

“Your cat’s lucky she’s cute.” Mei sighs to Zarius, exasperated. As Eameia makes her leave, Mei gives her a nod in return, and watches the girl leave; she still seems shaky, understandably so, after using her magic to hold up the ceiling the way she had.

Her crimson gaze turns to Vail, and despite its seriousness, she can’t help but breathe a laugh. “Veritable prince he may be, but no one will touch you so long as his highness wills it.” She jests; it’s pretty clear that Vail is nervous— as is Mei— but her coping tends to come with a generous side of sarcasm.

After all, before everything that had happened, the Rha’Oriyn were a family that she might have considered a problem once. An enemy. Now it’s very different, of course, but that doesn’t mean her sentiment applies here; the guards and that elven woman in particular seemed like they were more than ready to finish what Ebony had started; and she cannot even fault them.

Caedes does not have any connections with the Crimson Hand anymore, but most will remember him as such and thus treat him as either an enemy or a prize; something to turn back over to the Hand for butchering, like a runaway from a slaughterhouse, should he be recognized. 

So despite being behind closed doors, Mei doesn’t have it in her to return to her normal appearance in the Rha’Oriyn’s family home. Which also... makes being here complicated beyond the complications that already exist thanks to an unlucky Winter's Crown.

She exhales slowly, turning her gaze to Zarius; she reaches out, utilizing the connection in the hood. You're sure this will not be a problem, Zarius? A hesitation punctuates her words. I won't take any offense if you believe it is better to make my leave. I would not want to cause any trouble for you or Eameia by overstaying my welcome. _(1.)

Vail's voice catches her attention soon after, and Mei blinks. "Hm?" She tilts a hip, grinning when Vail expresses some curiosity in her changed appearance; and with her nerves gathered the way they are, she just laughs. “No, my memory’s not that bad.” She muses, curling her fingers beneath her chin while she narrows her eyes at him. “That being said, it would be polite for me to introduce myself. Mei.” She offers Vail an imaginary curtsy, making the motions despite the absence of a gown. “I believe you can put the puzzle pieces together; a changeling is not terribly uncommon... but I do bid you to keep it quiet.”

---

_{1. Red Rogue's Hood}

Zarius rolls his eyes at Mei's jokes. "Good to see your humor is intact." 

He looks between Vail and Mei. Hard to blame them for their doubt and caution given the circumstances they find themselves in, the whole situation is far from ideal for anyone. For him, he would have preferred not to bring either of them here without giving them a chance to decide if it was in their best interests to begin with. Still, he would have hoped that he's proven himself enough for them to know he wouldn't intentionally put them in a situation more dangerous than the one outside. 

“You are safe here. But I will not stop you from leaving if you insist.”

His eyes flit to Mei as she reaches out to him through her hood. He's almost tempted to reach out to her, to comfort her and reassure her that she has nothing to fear. That would hardly be fair…she has every reason to be on edge.

Mei has never met the rest of Zarius and Eameia’s family but knows their influence and shady business. Zarius himself had even told Mei how the assassin and her family had his own constantly eyeing the shadows with suspicion when they were still active. Had the Crimson Hand never turned against the Shadow Crawlers, there was a chance the assassins’ blades would have been pointed at the family of fellbloods instead.

It doesn’t help that it’s also possible that they had already. His father has always suspected that the murder of his sister was carried out by the shadowy group. He can’t even blame his father for thinking that way either. All evidence– or rather, the complete lack of evidence– suggests it was.

Despite all that, Zarius does end up stepping towards Mei after a moment. He places a hand on her shoulder. The heat from his palm is sapped away by the chill of the assassin’s skin beneath her shirt. In a way, it’s bracing and helps him keep calm and composed.

It will be no more a problem than having you not here. Given we do not know the extent of the damage to the city, I would rest easier knowing you are somewhere safe.^[1]

He offers a reassuring smile before moving to sit down on one of the chairs with a sigh. Running his hands through his hair, a dusting of ash falls from it onto the polished floor. They really were making a mess, but he knows his parents would not give them any grief for it. Same couldn't be said of the housekeepers who he would have to apologize to later. Their wrath was not something he was interested in incurring. 

Listening to Mei and Vail gives him a moment to gather his own thoughts. This last earthquake was one of the worst he's ever lived through. Darkveil isn't unaccustomed to tremors, that's what building so close to an active volcano gets you after all. But this was far more devastating than anything he can remember. Perhaps he needs to prioritize revising his emergency plans should it finally blow its top.

Evacuation strategies would need to be updated to include not only his family, but also those important to his local allies. He'll need to reach out to Cyran in particular to discuss the orphanage. They would need to ensure there is a safe place to relocate all those children if they're forced to abandon Darkveil. 

It's a lot of complicated logistics, and right now he's still reeling from the loss of the Rookery. It only makes sense in retrospect that the old building wouldn't be able to survive the tremors. Another case of sentiment overshadowing common sense. Next time he should pick a more structurally sound building to set up in, even if it doesn't hold fond memories from his childhood. 

Now's not the time for thinking about all that though. Looking back at Vail, he takes a breath. “You were saying?”

---

[1] Red Rogue’s Hood

The thought of Caedes adopting a different identity for protection around Zarius’s family hadn’t even crossed Vail's mind. Whether it be from his inability to accomplish such a feat or his current mindset, the Ash Lander felt slightly embarrassed by his nonchalant question.

“Ah, my apologies. I should have realized it sooner, I will stay quiet about it, I assure you. Admittedly, I have another side of me as well, although I doubt they are anywhere near talkative or formal for that matter.”

Vail hesitates momentarily as Zarius asks him to elaborate on his previous request. This wasn't exactly an ideal time or place for it, but it was partly his own fault for initiating the conversation. Whether Zarius regrets asking him to continue, will ultimately fall on him.

The pale man places his left elbow on the arm of the chair as he rests his chin against his knuckles.

“Have you ever felt so compelled to know something that the cost no longer matters? A curse of want that will not let you rest?”

He stares into the fellblood’s eyes with an stoic gaze that carries just slightest hint of desperation.

“I'm tired of running. From everything. I'm willing to do anything, any job now. Just make it a solo contract or… send me with someone capable of killing me.”

The pale man grows more despondent as he is no longer able to look the fellblood in the eye.

“The last job I took… it was supposed to be a simple investigation into some paintings and well… I almost killed an innocent. Worse yet, it was someone who put their faith in me.”

He does his best to subdue his lingering anger as he slowly rises to his feet, gently cradling the wrapped feline in his arms before depositing them in the warmed seat. He turns to face the pair with a determined expression, insisting that the Fellblood take in the full extent of his words.

“I know what I am; a monster; a weapon to be pointed at the enemy. That is why I was created, so that is what I offer. In return, I want any information related to my father. Even if you don't have any information at the moment, you do have connections, at the very least more than me, and I have nowhere else to turn.”

His eyes narrow as if to counter any assumptions made towards his intentions.

“To be clear, this is nothing as trivial as revenge. As I said I simply want answers. The Eyes and my father can rot for all I care, but I’m not going out of my way to deal with them.”

He lifts his pale gray right arm forward, before pulling it back and flexing his fingers as he stares into his palm.

“There very well may be multiple paths to my destination. If I can't find the answers from this city, I may need to take action to… close the gap between both sides of me. I can only assume that the same method will work again, however.”

“No apologies needed; in fact, I’d be doing a terrible job being myself if you had no questions of who I was.” Mei snickers, before shooting Zarius a glance at his comment. “Yeah, well, it’s pretty much the only part of me your cat left intact.” She jests with a wry grin; but falls quiet and waits patiently once she notices the fellblood glancing her way upon address.

Plenty goes unspoken between them when she makes her attempt to reach out; her history as a part of the Shadow Crawlers and the Crimson Hand are only a part of the many reasons she’s feeling restless under his roof in particular.

There’s still the fact that Mei fumbled on a deal she hadn’t known existed during the Red Rogue incident— do they even know that she almost skewered Zarius that night? If she had more time to think about this, she has no doubt she could create a thousand other excuses; having experienced death and been risen from it is definitely probably not going to do her any favors. The whole craving blood thing? Probably a mark on her record. The fact that there’s a fiend sitting in the back of her thoughts?

Gods. She has to admit that she’s made it pretty hard to give herself a good introduction in general; and she genuinely doesn’t know how much they actually know about her.

She blinks out of her thoughts when Zarius steps forwards; and Mei tilts her eyes to meet his while his hand falls against her shoulder. The warmth of his palm sinks through the fabric of her shirt and lingers against her skin, banishing the persistent chill that has haunted her for months.

The warmth is comforting.

Her ever-present smirk softens subtly, expression losing its edge; she loosens her fingers around the sleeves of her shirt, slacking the tension in the fabric when Zarius speaks through the hood in return. He assures her that it’s no more of a problem; and while she’s still not terribly sure that it will be less or equally problematic of her to remain, his reassuring smile at least puts some of her restless thoughts to bed.

She lets her shoulders relax finally when she nods, running a hand through her hair while Zarius walks past her to take a seat nearby. She tilts her gaze slightly to follow his motions, before blinking back to center. She really shouldn’t trust him so easily; in a different world, her presence here would be no different than a rabbit in a den of adders.

Her instincts from that time and that place mingle with that of now, and leave her feeling strange; but she wants to trust Zarius. He has never given her reason not to.

So she does, despite the hesitance.

Flakes of ash fall around her shoulders from the displacement of her hair, but after she gathers herself, she spins on a heel to face Vail and Zarius again, and heads over to join the fellblood in a chair nearby.

She sits down delicately, trying to avoid showering the furniture in more ash than it can handle. She crosses one leg slowly over the other, crossing her arms while she listens to Zarius and Vail’s conversation with lingering interest. She’s missing some context from what she understands; context she’s sure Zarius has, and perhaps may explain later.

For now, though, she can connect the dots with what Vail is saying: he’s been wronged by the people he trusted. His father, presumably… Albeit, her eyes narrow sharply, brows furrowing when he makes an offhand comment that she couldn’t possibly agree less with.

Some people deserve their karma; an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life.

This isn't her place to speak, though. 

She jostles a leg while the silence lingers, glancing sideways at Zarius to gauge his response to Vail's words.