Darkveil was a place that Cirice hadn’t spent a lot of time in, though it housed some of her favorite people in Charon lived there. Considering how much time she’d spent with Cyran and how dear he was to her it only made sense that she come and visit the place he had spent so much time and care building. She’d heard bits and pieces about the place from several of her friends, Astrid and Blue mentioning bringing a group of orphans there, Del mentioning the pets, and Veliky mentioning the reconstruction effort… Cyran himself hadn’t really said too much about the place, but that wasn’t too surprising. Cyran isn’t one to boast about the good he does, or the effort he makes for others. Hearing of his good deeds almost always comes second-hand, that’s why its her personal mission to let everyone know just how wonderful he truly is. Not that she’s had the courage to speak to him about it, but there is in her wagon a secret stash of all the stories she’s collected of him, her own personal biography for the man she respects the most.

As she pulls her wagon up to the newly finished façade, freshly painted and restored, she feels a jitter of nerves. Its silly, honestly. A basket of fresh-baked muffins in her arm and Crepesculum the moth on her shoulder she heads inside.

“Cyran? Are you home…?”

Cirice’s call is answered by the screech of a chair being pushed back, followed by rapid clicking; the sound grows louder until the rapping against the wooden planks of Shade’s Valley halts.

It’s a young girl who greets Cirice instead, standing at the doorway to the eating space with a pastel green mug full of something steaming held in one of her hands. Her chestnut hair falls in messy, unbrushed waves around her face— but most notably are the two horns that peek just between her messy locks atop her head.

For just a moment, she looks at Cirice, a bit taken aback by her arrival.

“Hyello! Uh, shorry—” Her voice is muffled upon speaking; one hand moves up to her lips, and she swallows the mouthful of a spiced jasmine biscuit she’d been eating just before getting up to get the door. She clears her throat, a sheepish and lopsided smile raising the corners of her lips. “Sorry; um— you’re looking for Mister Cyran?” She moves into the foyer, ruffled skirts bouncing at the knees of her goat-like legs.

The clicking grows noticeably quieter as she traipses across the carpet.

“He’s in his study, I think. One sec, I can call him for you.” She swirls around, goat tail a-wiggling as she prances over to the doorway. She sniffs as she stops, wiping her mouth gingerly with the back of her hand before she calls out, “Mister Cyran, there’s someone here for you! She brought muffins!”

She blinks down the hallway, standing just off to the side as she raises her mug and sips from it. She takes a look at the basket in Cirice’s hands from where she stands, swallowing her mouthful of tea. “What kinda muffins are those? They smell really nice; are they blueberry?” She raises her cup to her lips again, but nearly spills it when she finally sees the friend that Cirice has brought along; it sloshes close to the edge as the girl stands up straight with a gasp.

“What is that!? Is that a moth!? It’s huge! I’ve never seen one that big before! Oh my gosh, they're so pretty! Do they have a name? Hi there!” In the midst of all of her chittering, Cypress flits back to Cirice, tail twitching eagerly as she admires Crepesculum.

The repairs to Shade’s Valley Orphanage were coming along surprisingly well.

Of course, things were not perfect. Nor were they left entirely... unchanged. Cyran now had a second story to deal with - it was not that he was... ungrateful for Veliky’s contributions, especially considering she did not have to help with rebuilding after all she’d done for the kids, but the bits and pieces that she’d added were far too confusing for someone as old as him to keep up with. Not to mention that the kids inexplicably kept finding BlixtTM in random places, giving them enough caffeine to bounce off the newly-fixed walls.

At least it gave them something to be happy about.

The last few months had been more than enough hell for them.

Which was why Cyran had planned something extra special for today - Fae day, a holiday that the public had recently decided on in honor of the Fae clique. It was not one Cyran was personally interested in, but the kids seemed excited about it, and he would do anything to give them a little bit of happiness and excitement after everything they’d been through. Oriole and Andromeda were out now, collecting what he needed to give to the kids. That gave him enough time to sit down and get through some necessary paperwork -

Or at least, it did, until he heard a familiar voice echoing through the halls.

Cyran sighed, setting his quill down and straightening his back with an audible pop. The chair creaked as he stood and made his way to the door, ready to see what the young satyr might need.

“Cypress, what have we said about using our indoor voice - oh!”

When he opened the door, he almost expected to see Cashmere standing in the hall with the young satyr. Where Cypress was, her brother was often not far behind. So it was a surprise - an entirely pleasant one - to see his goddaughter standing there instead, allowing Cypress to fawn over Crepesculum.

Well, that explained what he heard about muffins.

“Cirice!” Cyran closed the gap between them, wrapping the younger elf into a tight hug. “I wasn’t expecting you today. You could have written ahead... I would have cleaned up and made you tea. Ah - I see you’ve already met Cypress.” He pulled away from Cirice to ruffle Cypress’s hair fondly. “Sprout, this is my goddaughter, Cirice. And it looks like she brought some treats.”

He gave Cirice a warm smile. “Please, come in - make yourself at home. Would you like a tour? Tea? Oh, I’m glad you decided to visit on a holiday… we’ve got a big dinner planned, and I’ve got a guest room for you to spend the night in.” He couldn’t contain his joy that Cirice had decided to pay a visit. Oh, the kids would love her…

Speaking of kids, there was one missing, one that would absolutely adore Cirice. Cyran glanced down at Cypress, putting a hand on the young girl’s shoulder. “Cypress? Where’s your brother run off to?”

---

Bringing Minions
Oriole (Warlord I)
Andromeda (Warlord II)

Bringing Pets
Yeux (Vampire bat - counts against pet cap)
Umbra/Blackberry Cheesecake (Mimic Moth - doesn't count against pet cap)
Nobiagari shadowlings (snowlings - doesn't count against pet cap)

---

'Focus... Focus...'

The midday light is still a dimness that shines through the window with a refined modesty. It gently illuminates the cozy little den which, by its decorum, could only belong to the littlest of witches. Fabrics of mauve and lilac, dotted with stars and moons and other bodies that would be seen by looking up to the night-sky, fill the room: they cover the floor, as carpets; they hang at the window, as curtains; they hold soft, scattered pillows, as cases; and they sit on shelves, with regal air, as archetypal witches' headwear (pointed caps and all). It's a dwelling place for one who idolizes all the stars in the sky, even if their depiction is more childish than a more pragmatic soul would know them to be.

And here is sat that little stargazer, kneeling on a starry carpet at the bottom of a step and wearing one such archetypal hat on his own undersized head. But, although his face is pointed upward, his eyes see nothing; his eye is closed closed. Similarly raised are his hands, one of which holds the star-tipped wand that's been broken and mended more times than even his sister could count (certainly more than himself, who never bothered counting at all).

'Focus...!' One can see the strain in his face as he delicately maneuvers the wand. His eye is shut to keep him from being distracted, easily distracted a creature as he is. But every second that passes tantalizes him to open his eye wide, and see. Because he can hear the strangest noise; like the crashing of a waterfall, but quiet and subtle. He wants so badly to see it. But he knows that the second he opens his eye, he'll lose the concentration.

...But not if he only takes a peek, right?

He opens his singular, golden eye just a crack, just a slight, to behold the fruit of all his concentration. Swirling about in the air, controlled by the movements of his wand, is a warbling orb of pure water. It's a majestic, if unusual sight, and evidence -- if nothing else -- that he really is getting better!

But then karma comes to bite him, as it tends to do. Awestruck by the sight, he quickly loses control. Despite his best efforts, water-orb incohetes and falls to splash all over an oversized cat-stuffy that's slouched next to the stair.

Cashmere gasps. "Mr. Wuggles!" Rising from his knees, he quickly rushes over to the stuffy, kneeling beside it and holding it by the shoulders. "I'm sorry! Oh my goodness, we're gonna have to dry you off again..."

His distraughtedness and shame is thankfully interrupted as he hears something from outside his room. He can just make out Cypress' and Cyran's voices. They sound excited about something! But what?

Cashmere looks between the doorway and Mr. Wuggles. He really should continue practicing... but he's simply too curious.

"I'll be right back, Mr. Wuggles. And I'll get you a towel!" he gives farewell before leaving a kiss on the cat-plushy's now-waterlogged forehead, rising up and scampering out of the room.

---

Through the hall, Cashmere creeps until the voices are from just around the corner. He clings to the wall, trying to be some form of sneaky, but the star-tip of his hat is plainly visible (one would think he'd be more aware of it, seeing as he wears it constantly). Peeking his one little golden eye around the corner, he can see Cyran and Cypress talking with... someone. It's a pretty elvish girl, with violet skin like the evening sky and white hair like silk, she's an instantly dazzling sight. Who is this?

Cashmere leans forward, drawn to her like a siren's song. But he's interrupted by another sound, this one of a knocking at the door. And in their conversation, it seems like Cyran and Cypress didn't hear it, which leaves only... him!

Eager to make himself useful in some small way, he slip-plops over to the door, grips the handle, and opens it wide.

It’s been a while since Astrid’s come to Darkveil, mostly because she hasn’t had much of a reason to visit anyone she knows who lives here. The life of an adventuring diggiterry is a busy one, so busy that she doesn't even know she's gotten a promotion. Plus she has a job that she does from time to time. Still, Darkveil was hit especially hard from some of the recent earthquakes, and she’s been meaning to come check on things, especially the orphanage where she and Blue dropped off a gaggle of orphans that Melodia’s been worried about.

There is another reason that Astrid finds herself in front of Shade’s Valley Orphanage, however. A small, fragile reason, gently tucked into her bag. It would be weird to enter and immediately present it, though. Besides, she finds herself distracted by the familiar wagon with a spooky deer parked just outside. Huh. What is Cirice doing here? Does she know Cyran? Guess she’ll find out. She’s so distracted by the wagon that she doesn’t even notice the additions to the orphanage.

With a gauntleted hand, Astrid raps her knuckles against the door before taking a step back where Spicy Pawsage patiently sits beside her and waits. She expects any number of children to open the door and greet her. What she does not expect is a tiny kid in a witch’s costume to throw the door open.

“Uh… hiya,” Astrid says. “Is Cyran here?” But it doesn’t take long to hear a collection of both familiar and unfamiliar voices. “Oi, Cyran! It’s Astrid!” Then she looks at the kid in front of her. “Hi, I’m Astrid. Nice ta meetcha!”

---

Pets:
Spicy Pawsage

“Well yes actually, I brought a few different flavors of muffin. Pumpkin, that’s Cyran’s favorite, starberry which is mine, chocolate chip and blueberry. Oh and a lemon one! I just recently tried the lemon- Oh yes this is Crepesculum!” Cirice giggles as the girl gasps in delight. She’s a precious little one, adorable and soft-looking, full of the wonder and joy of youth. Cirice is about to set Crepesculum on the little girl’s head when Cyran appears and wraps her in a tight hug. She leans into his warmth, immediately at home and happy in his embrace.

“I wanted it to be a surprise! Its not a surprise if I tell you I’m coming!” She giggles, “Nice to meet you Cypress, aren’t you super cute? I just want to…” She scoops the satyr up into her arms and twirls around with her a few times before setting her down.

“A tour would be wonderful Cyran, I want to see everything and meet everyone! I’m so sorry it took so long for me to come here, I kept getting distracted by jobs and adventures. Mage’s Guild stuff too… A big dinner sounds lovely! You don’t have to worry about lodgings though, my wagon is just outside.”

Noticing a small star and a little golden eye behind them she looks over to see a young boy heading towards the door. His outfit is adorable, far too large and intricate for someone of his size, but it suits him in a strange way, like a promise not yet fulfilled. She doesn’t hear the knock on the door but she watches him come and open it to reveal Astrid on the other side.

“Astrid! Fancy seeing you here! It’s really a party now!” She turns back to Cypress with a grin, “Is this the aforementioned little brother? Hi I’m Cirice! Since Cyran is your guardian that makes us family. You can call me big sis Cirice if you want!”

“Huh?” Cypress’ shoulders and ears lift at the sound of Cyran’s voice; she steps aside just as the man swoops by to hug Cirice. Her hooves click as she takes a few awkward steps back, her expression revealing that she is uncertain of what to say or where to go during their reunion; but the expression fades into tightened eyes, furrowed brows, and a lopsided smile as Cyran ruffles her hair.

She opens her eyes when he lifts his hand, her soft smile beaming as she looks up at Cirice with wide eyes. “Hello miss Cirice,” she greets; her tail wiggles as she stretches a hoof behind her, opposite hand raising the ruffles of her skirt in a small curtsy. “It’s nice to meet y-!” Cypress gasps when she’s suddenly lifted into Cirice’s arms, introduction cut short—

—but giggles erupt from the little cyclone; and when Cirice finally stops, Cypress has tangled herself up to ensure she doesn’t fall from the half-elf’s arms. When she stops, she’s hugged her arms around Cirice’s neck tightly, cheeks rosy from laughter and delight as the half-elf sets her back down.

There’s a sheepish skip in the satyr’s gait as she scuttles close to Cyran; the smile remains on her face when she feels his hand on her shoulder.

“Huh? Cashmere is practicing in his room! I went to make some tea, and some hot cocoa and snacks for Cash to help him keep up his energy while he’s practicing… I’m still boiling the hot water for the cocoa if miss Cirice wants tea.” Cypress’ tail wiggles as she speaks; but the sound of a new voice makes her ears perk.

The satyr looks towards the door to find Cashmere not in his room, but at the door.

“Cash? I didn't hear you come down!” She chirps, “I thought you were practicing!” She beelines for the door to join her little brother, placing her drink on a nearby tablette as she passes, but calls over her shoulder. “Uh-huh, this is him!! Cash, come and —- Oh, hi!” As Cypress puts both hands, one on each of Cashmere’s shoulders from behind him, she realizes there’s a girl at the door.

She tilts her head, looking over her shoulder to Cyran and Cirice, then back at the girl; she calls for Cyran, so… she must know him, too? “You wanna come in?” She asks, gesturing inside with one hand. “Miss Cirice brought muffins, and there’s boiling water in the kitchen for tea and cocoa.”

“Well, it’s a wonderful surprise.” Cyran assured Cirice as she moved to pick up Cypress, spinning the young satyr around. Cypress still looked a little dizzy as she explained that Cashmere was practicing magic upstairs, and that she’d been preparing snacks for him. She really was a responsible young lady… even so young, she was thoughtful and mature, always thinking of others. Cyran only hoped that she could learn to let loose and allow herself to be a child every once in a while.

“Why don’t we move this to the dining hall? We can make tea, and you can enjoy the snacks Cirice brought.” He brushed past Cirice, pressing a small kiss to her forehead as he led them all to the kitchen - only to be interrupted by the sound of a loud, familiar voice calling his name.

That was not one of his children.

A few minutes later, Astrid made her way into the foyer with Cashmere. “O-Oh!” His eye widened in surprise at the appearance of the young lady. It had been a long time since he’d seen Astrid - not since they fought together against Ziev… or when she arrived at Shade’s Valley to deliver the kids to him? Which one came first? Thinking about the semantics of it was giving him a headache, so he decided to push that aside. “Astrid, it’s good to see you. What brings you here? If you’re here for Del, she’s off doing some work around town…”

He knew, vaguely, that the two had met from Del… given that the both of them had a love of the forge and building things, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that she was here to visit the blacksmith.

With her arrival, though, and Cashmere’s appearance from upstairs, the foyer was growing far too crowded.

“Uh, please, feel free to come in and make yourselves at home, everyone. It’s Fae Day, so you’re all in time for some of the meals and activities I had planned for the kids, if you’d all like to participate.”

As Cashmere opens the door wide, he's greeted with the sight of a girl not much older than himself (albeit still a good few inches taller than him). Her blonde ponytail, freckled face, chipped teeth and confident eyes hint of a much more rough-and-tumble existence than Cashmere's own. But those are just the features of herself as evidence; much more substantial evidence is the fact that this girl's wearing armour! And she's carrying a hammer -- no, two hammers! And she's wearing goggles, and these really tough-looking gauntlets (no wonder the knock sounded so clanky)! And are those horns real?!

Cashmere's eye and mouth both hang open as he looks at this girl in awe. He can't believe his eye! Is this girl some sort of prodigy? Or maybe she's one of those vampires or something that looks really young, but is actually a trillion years old? He can't decide which would be cooler!

"Woahh!" his eye reflects her armour's gleam. He's just about to introduce himself and launch into a million questions, but the area swiftly turns into a party as Cypress, Cyran and this pretty elven lady approach.

And around then is when Cashmere loses the bearings that he arguably had. So many people! There's Cypress and Cyran, both of whom he's already comfortable around, but then there are these two new people that he wants to ask all the questions in the world! But he's... also feeling strange, overwhelmed. He's never been too afraid of social situations, but flusteredness is easy to come by when there's so much information passing by! Just looking between the four as they speak, he tries to latch onto any little bit of conversation he can, trying to remember any detail, but he finds himself simply stupefied. Not to mention that all these people, Cypress included, seem much more mature and capable than him. He thinks about just sneaking away and letting all these important people talk...

But then a little feeling, like frazzledness and violet sparkling, plays over his shoulders as he realizes that the elf lady's looking at him! At first he's intimidated; Cirice is a pretty name, and, if he knows anything about elves from Cyran, this girl is probably a century older than him! But then, proving that she's a magician herself, Cirice speaks those two magic words and casts a charm on little Cashmere.

"B-B-Big sis?"

Family... As if this weren't already overwhelming, Cashmere has a new emotion bouncing about in his mind like a happy little kangaroo -- except it has a sword, and is locked in a truel against his embarrassment and his confusion! Ultimately, embarrassment seems to be winning. He keeps the hem of his hat low, to hide his face, and lets out the tiniest of murmurs.

"ᴹʸ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵃˢʰᵐᵉʳᵉ..."

Astrid certainly does not expect the level of chaos within the orphanage when the door is opened. Who’s she kidding? It’s an orphanage full of kids, of course, she expected some level of chaos. But wait, these two kids are new. Cyran must have opened things up. Wait, of course he opened the orphanage! Del’s helping here. Hopefully, more kids are going and finding new homes and families than kids are coming.

At least she can immediately identify who’s new. “Aye, I wanna come in. Muffins an’ cocoa sound good ta me!” Astrid cheerfully says to Cypress. “Nice ta meet ya, too, whatever yer name is!” Stepping in, Astrid looks around at the collection of people in the foyer.

“Hey, Cirice. Hey, Cyran,” she says. “Seems like ya got a lot goin’ on… I can come back another time if ya want. Or I could go ask Zarius. He ain’t far, I think. Figured it’d be better ta ask someone who knows how ta take care of wee thin’s fer help than him.”

Astrid has no idea what Fae Day is. It doesn’t sound like something commonly celebrated by the people of Dragon’s Cradle, or at least the people in Sky Peak, to her knowledge. Maybe this isn’t the best time. OH WELL!

Opening up her bag and pulling out a brilliant, yellow egg, Astrid presents it to the group. “I found this fancy egg recently an’ figured ya’d be a good person ta ask about raisin’ whatever’s inside. Zarius would probably teach it ta be a sneaky thin’.”

With everyone gathered around in the dining room, Cyran figured that was as close to organized as they were going to get. He held his hand out, summoning a basket from thin air, holding the handle in the palm of his hand.^[1] The inside of the basket was stuffed with about a dozen eggs nestled in thick stalks of grass, each one painted a different, vibrant color. With a smile on his face, he gestured for all the children (Cirice included) to gather closer.

“It’s a funny coincidence you decided to pay a visit, Astrid.” And with her own egg, as well. “I don’t know much about the holiday myself, but I figured that this would be a good opportunity to plan an activity for everyone.” Apparently, people had been finding these eggs hidden in discrete places all around the city - when Cyran had heard rumors of people finding them, it reminded him of this old game that his caretaker used to play with him, back when he was younger. It was a silly game, really, one where she would hand him an egg and tell him to take care of it like a child, which would keep him distracted for an entire day, carting the egg around the manor and pretending to be a doting parent.

It was a silly game, really, but he remembered having fun when he was a child. At the very least, it would give the kids something to focus on aside from all of the awful events they’d been subjected to as of late.

“These eggs have been left all across town by the fae.” Cyran explained, handing one to each of the children - a brown egg for Cypress, a green egg for Cirice, and a yellow egg for Cashmere. “Your objective for the day is to keep your egg safe, and take care of them. You have to treat your egg with kindness and nurture whatever’s inside… today, you all are going to be the parents.”

He let the kids all absorb the mission that he had given them before turning to Astrid. “Of course, I’m happy to answer any questions you may have.” He couldn’t help but feel touched that she had decided to come to him of all people for help… he wasn’t quite sure why she had decided to ask him instead of her father, but he hoped that his own experience with parenting would be able to help her with what she needed.

“Now, how you all decide to take care of your egg is up to you, but you must make sure that it is safe, and loved. Can you all do that?”

---

1. Summon: Possession

Carefully taking the egg in hand she looks it over, inspecting it thoroughly.

“Oh yay! This is cool. I have just the thing!” She draws a little circle of lavender light in the air with her finger. “Arestar come out for a bit!”

In a moment there’s the sound of wings and then a strangely large-mouthed bird comes out of the glowing circle. “Good boy!” She snuggles him before gently placing the egg into the circle. “There we go, safe and sound!”

Cyran sighs deeply, crossing one arm over his chest and resting his face in his hand. “Cirice you can’t just shove your child in a pocket dimension.”

“Why not? If it hatches there’s food and its safe and won’t even age. Its the perfect place to keep something precious!” She grins at him as if she solved some riddle cleverly.

“You wouldn’t like being in a pocket dimension, would you?”

“Well yeah if its nice and cozy. I have my own! See?”

She steps over to a shadowy part of the room and opens a small door that hadn’t been there a moment before¹. Inside there’s a cozy sitting room that they could all fit and relax in if they wanted. Across from them there is another door with a silver handle identical to the one she opened.

---

1 Hyl's Shady Shelter

“It’s Cypress,” she corrects the stranger at the door; she steps aside to let Astrid in, “It’s nice to meet you too.” She dips her head slightly as Astrid walks in, before moving to shut the door behind her. As she returns with Cashmere into the foyer, the satyr’s smile is soft and fond when Cashmere’s eyes grow wide, and he grows sheepish in front of Cirice.

She reaches out, ruffling the brim of his hat fondly and playfully, and listens to Cyran while he talks; her ears perk slightly when she sees into his basket of eggs. “By the fae…?” She repeats quizzically, a hand against her cheek.

She offers Astrid a look.

“Yours, too?” She wonders; but, when Cyran offers her an egg, she hesitates before taking it carefully with both hands. “Oh…” Her tail twitches as she looks between Cyran, and the others who have been offered an egg; a tiny wash of anxiety rushes over her. What if it breaks? She can’t just carry this around all day, she might drop it! “Something is going to hatch from this…?”

After a moment of standing stock-still, like a deer in the headlights, Cypress blinks and returns to motion; she watches with awe as Cirice opens up a pocket dimension as if it is nothing. She certainly cannot do that…

“Woah…” The satyr purses her lips, tilting her head slightly as she peeps into the room that Cirice has made— clutching the little egg closer to her chest. She can’t make a room for it, and she couldn’t sit on it like a bird. How does she keep it safe, and warm? Miss Cirice seems to have the right idea, by creating its own safe space…

“Mm…” She looks down at her cupped hands with an inkling of thought, before she perks her ears; without another word, Cypress turns and clops off. As she steps from rug to wooden flooring, her hooves start to click on her way to the kitchen.

After a moment of rummaging, there comes a click and clack of porcelain from the kitchen; and eventually, Cypress makes a return with another colorful mug and a noticeable new addition to her wardrobe.

A little sling crafted from some of the clean kitchen towels which cradles the egg Cyran gave her, and creates a cozy little pocket for the fragile shell. “I almost forgot you wanted cocoa.” She remarks sheepishly, offering Astrid the warm mug with both hands; she turns back, looking towards Cirice’s pocket space— and also, for her little brother. “We have some baskets that we take to the market in the pantry— we could make a little nest out of them for the eggs, so they can stay warm at night while we wait for them to hatch.”

After a moment of hesitation, she also adds,

"... but then we would need more baskets for the market."