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Post by Delaela Fenastra-Asiliari on Dec 25, 2023 18:10:50 GMT -5
Suggesting Cyran go on a mission with Astrid was a decision Del did not ever expect to regret... though, as she runs through the swamp, using the scraggly trees to pull her along ever faster, perhaps it was something she ought to have expected. She should have never let him stray from her side-- that was what she had promised him, that she would be near always and not let something like what had occured with the cultists of Vulcadreus happen again. And though she was not far, the moment she had started to feel Cyran's distress and anguish rise, she knew she was not close enough.
It was a familiar feeling, unfortunately. There were previous occasions where he was with the various children he had adopted, or friends and comrades he had trusted, where he experienced a terrible surge of panic and pain and horror. Reaching out to him through their silent connection with comfort, reassurance, letting him know she was on her way, seemed almost smothered by the tsunami of desperation.
And then his end of their bond fell silent.
Their connection was strong, providing insight and comfort even when they were apart, but it was not a perfect window. She could not know what was happening with Astrid and Cyran, and feared the worst; he could sense Cyran feared Astrid being hurt, and having been in a similar situation not so long ago, found herself panicked that two people she cared for were hurt or worse.
That's what optimism gets you, she supposed grimly in the back of her mind. She should have known better; she had lived this life of paranoia and instability for most of the life she could remember, she should have never let either of them out of her sight. If something had happened to Astrid because she was not near enough to Cyran to help him fend off whatever was after them, she would never forgive herself.
Without thinking, threw herself headlong into shadows, pulling rapidly between the shades of the trees until she emerged through a large shape-- not a rock, as she thought at first, but the silhouette of the downed hydra. Breathing heavily, she skids to her knees, scooping Cyran into her arms. Breathing, but unconscious, exhausted. Alive. Filled with relief, he pulls his cool body close to her warmth and starts to rise, assuring him softly. "I've got you, love, I'm here. I'm sorry."
Now standing, she looks around, eyes wild with panic. Where was Astrid?
There was... a large creature currently eating the hydra that was not wholly familiar to Del but looked surprisingly tame, though it did turn its head to growl at her, baring a mouthful of teeth and viscera in warning. A giant drake that did indeed seem to have the bearing of one of the WEF mounts, a distinction she thought Astrid had earned. Nearby, a golem stood, impassive and watchful, and though Del had never met it either, that struck her as something of Astrid's. It certainly wasn't Cyran's. She looks between the creature and the golem, both of which seemed to be acting relatively calmly. Strange. But she still did not see the girl.
Gods, if she had to go back to that man again with his injured daughter in her arms....
"Astrid?" Del calls out, her voice carefully ringing. She looks again at the golem and the giant drake. Could either speak? "Are you with her? Where is she?"
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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Dec 25, 2023 18:12:04 GMT -5
With Astrid long gone from the picture after teleporting herself cross-continent, Buttfellow lacks any orders or direction, and Big Frizole finds a hearty meal in the form of the slain hydra beneath him. Astrid was just so sure that Cyran was out of danger and would stay conscious for at least long enough to get back to Del that she never even considered it would be a problem to leave a grown adult alone. By now, she’s likely broken into Zarius’ family home to demand answers.
When Del emerges from the shadow of the hydra, Big Frizole’s giant head swivels in her direction, letting out a menacing growl as if to warn not to touch Cyran, but more importantly, not to touch his food. When she does touch Cyran, he sniffs the air, drawing in a deep breath and filling his lungs, holding it for a still moment, then finally letting it out with a puff of smoke and steam and returning to his meal. She’s no threat to him currently. His shoulders shift with the saddle situated between them. From a holster on the saddle, a large lance clangs against his scales.
Buttfellow, meanwhile, has little means of higher thinking. Designed to take commands and mostly operate in a way that protects his creator, he is left aimless in the swamp and unable to determine friend from foe, therefore, he simply does not determine. The red eyes of the long-destroyed Blixto™, Buffalo watches Del and Cyran with the closest thing to interest an expressionless face can manage. There seems to be some recognition of Astrid’s name in the golem’s movements but are more pronounced in the large drake’s movements as it lifts itself from the water behind the golem and looks over at Del with a more intense stare.
Another snort from the drake fogs up Buttfellow’s dimpled metal surface. Where is Astrid, exactly?
A lone cork, something that previously kept a potion bottle sealed, floats on the surface of the murky water not far from where Del found Cyran’s unconscious body.
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Post by Delaela Fenastra-Asiliari on Jan 1, 2024 20:54:28 GMT -5
The response doesn't come. It was to be expected, this was a drake and a golem. Still holding Cyran close, she slowly sets herself to kneel, trying to figure out what she should prioritize. There was no immediate danger present, at least not that she could see, but she was still on edge. Astrid was gone, and there was no sign of her--
Oh, wait. Yes there was.
Now that the initial panic had faded a little, the single-minded desire to locate her missing fiance and the young girl had let up significantly. Now, her eyes were spotting things she had not initially landed on; the saddle on the drake, from which a lance hung in it's holster. The golem shifted slightly at the mention of Astrid, but not in an immediate way Del could identify. Still, potential recognition was better than none.
As her eyes lower, she can see that before her, floating in the water, is a cork, discoloured around one end in such a way that implied it was used to stopper a bottle not so long ago. So Astrid was here, but was not currently present. These were more than likely her companions (unless someone had stolen her lance and attached it to a dragon), and as they were not reacting poorly, she held onto the belief that the young girl was in one piece. Astrid was strong, and quite powerful all things considered. She was not one to go down easily.
But then, why was Cyran alone and unconscious?
"I can only hope you're coming back soon, then..." she murmured, before gently lowering Cyran again, brushing his hair off his forehead, her brow furrowing with concern. Laying her hand across his cheek, she watched him closely for signs of alertness. If Astrid did not return swiftly, getting him warm and awake would be the first priority so they could search for her together.
Gods, but what if there was another Ur-Beast stalking her? Again, she lifts her eyes to the golem, worried. "I'm a friend of Astrid. Do you know where she is? Is she okay?"
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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Jan 2, 2024 16:36:16 GMT -5
Satisfied with his meal, Big Frizole’s throat rumbles contently, sending ripples across the surface of the water. His head turns and watches Del as she fusses over Cyran with eyes nearly the size of her head. Slit pupils focus on her while his throat vibrates, but she shows no fear and gives him no reason to suspect her intentions are ill, so the drake is unconcerned.
Instead, his gaze follows hers and lands on the floating cork in the water, which he slowly moves over to give one strong sniff. Then a snort break’s the water’s surface. Yes, this smells of Astrid. He raises his head to the air and breathes in deep, filling his lungs until his belly sinks into the water. At first his attention turns back to the direction from which Del came then traces over to Cyran, who he gives another sniff to, then it stops on the cork again where the trail goes cold.
With more intelligence than Buttfellow but lacking an ability to speak, Big Frizole glances between Del and Buttfellow then nudges the golem with some insistence that it says something. The construct stumbles forward, looks over its shoulder at the drake, then looks at Del. It unhelpfully says nothing. Unfortunately, Astrid hasn’t quite figured out how to give Buttfellow the ability to speak, even to deliver information rather than inferring his own. If only the golem had the wherewithal to shrug.
Big Frizole rises out of the water and with slow movements shuffles toward Del and Cyran. He does understand Astrid’s last request, though the memory is muddled by the joy of victory. Take Cyran. So, the large drake starts to press his snout under Cyran’s waterlogged body to lift him, but with Del protective of him, he snorts and pulls his head back then turns his body as if to offer up the saddle. Whether or not Del accepts this and sets Cyran in the saddle, the drake sits there patiently, his tail lazily laid around them as a protective dam of scales and flesh. Del smells of Cyran, so the drake worries little about her.
While he sits there, magic starts to gather around his form, and the drake’s brow furrows when he notices the purple swirls and blue sparks dancing on his scales. This isn’t unfamiliar to him, but it isn’t pleasant, and that mood is obvious in the way he snorts irritably. The drake turns its head to look at Del and Cyran studiously.
Then, he disappears from the swamp altogether, pulled away by the summoning magic of his master.
Buttfellow remains unfazed.
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Post by Delaela Fenastra-Asiliari on Jan 11, 2024 2:45:27 GMT -5
Nothing from the golem, but that wasn't wholly unexpected. While not a practitioner of the arcane herself in any meaningful sense, she understood that the processes that governed their objectives were oftentimes basic. It is disheartening, but she has Cyran in her arms and keeps him close. One thing at a time. Get him awake, and find Astrid.
Meanwhile, the large drake emerges from his feast within the swamp where the hydra was felled, dripping with blood and stagant water, after making a few cursory sniffs at the cork floating on the surface. Del watches it approach with a carefully guarded eye; dragon kin were notably quite intelligent, but it was quite a sight to watch one think and reason in the moment. At least, she thought that was what was happening. Despite that, Del reflexively pulls Cyran back and away as it lumbered closer, edgy as she was. But, there was no danger in the approach; It only huffed and turned its flank towards her, as though... providing an invitation to the saddle.
That was bewildering. The heavy reptilian tail seemed to protect them from the waters that lapped the shore from where it lay, and the drake remains still, blinking at her with indifferent askance. As she tries to decide whether or not she is reading the drake's true intentions correctly or not, something else starts to happen. The drake looks deeply irritated as purple energy starts to swirl around it, giving Del and Cyran one last glacial look... before popping out of existence.
Del opens and closes her mouth, once. ...Well, then.
"Going to... assume that's not a bad thing..." Del mumbles again, talking to herself now. She quickly goes about gathering the materials to make a small fire, both to warm Cyran until he woke, so they could go and search for Astrid, if she did not return soon. Once the meager fire is going, she sets his head upon her lap, covering him with her cloak while she listened to the forest, either for the sounds of danger or Astrid's return.
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Jan 14, 2024 8:46:30 GMT -5
Everything was cloudy and faraway; he was floating in the center of a pool, the waves threatening to submerge him. Seconds of clarity, the sounds of movement and sensations of warmth, were cut short by the suffocating darkness of sleep. This wasn’t right, he needed to find -
Find who?
He couldn’t quite grasp it; but the urgency had settled into his bones.
And then something wrapped around him. Something familiar. Cyran tried to pull himself from the dark, but he couldn’t quite reach back. Nevertheless, the presence held him tight, and the deepest, most instinctual part of him recognized it as safe.
Time passed. He wasn’t sure how much… wasn’t sure of anything really, until he could feel the beginning of heat blossoming, and something covering him, and Cyran could finally start to think. He’d been in the Marsh Flats… hunting something. A monster, not a person. He didn’t hunt people anymore. And he’d been with someone, but they’d left for something, and it was his fault…
Astrid.
His eyes snapped open at once, jolting awake; and nearly slammed the side of his skull straight into Del’s chin. He swore under his breath in elvish and recoiled when he realized where he was, and who he was with. “Del?” He blinked, sluggish and uncomprehending. Last he remembered, she was still at their camp…
Unless she’d felt his distress and come running.
Cyran closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. This made… what, the second or third time she’d had to care for him while he was unconscious? Evidently he was turning into quite the princess in distress.
“Thank you love.” He breathed, trying to get a feel for his surroundings. She’d built a campfire and made him comfortable. The hydra was dead, but he could see the strange construct with the name he’d rather not repeat ambling about, a blank stare in its artificial eyes. The drake had disappeared, though. He hoped that meant Astrid was safe.
“I told Astrid what happened in Darkveil. She left.” He explained, unsure what else to say. Wringing his hands out, he sighed once more. He’d been making that sound more often than not lately. “I didn’t mean to, but she wanted to know… I think I really distressed her.” His voice wobbled at the end, uncertain. The last thing he ever wanted to do in his life was to hurt the children who depended on him, however tangentially. Astrid had needed a mature adult in that moment, and he’d failed to keep his emotions in check for even one fucking second. What kind of father and caretaker did that make him?
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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Jan 20, 2024 17:51:57 GMT -5
After hurrying home and concocting another use of her Elsewhere Juice, Astrid chugs it quickly, not even allowing any time to get caught up in explaining things to Cantio if he’s even home. She has to get back. She’s messed up. Anselm isn’t stupid – he’s probably got an idea of where she came from – and as much as Astrid wants to trust him, she could see the seething anger in his eyes. But maybe if Cyran just goes back and explains things, it could all just wash away like water under the bridge!
Things could be so simple if adults weren’t so stupid!
The moment Astrid manifests in the small village where she met up with Cyran and Del, she rushes towards their temporary residence only to find that Del isn’t there – she’s gone in the same direction Cyran and Astrid went. Shoot! Well, at least Cyran won’t be left alone for long. He’s probably on his way back. No matter, she needs to get back quickly. The way she left was incredibly foolish.
Getting to an open area, big enough to accommodate Big Frizole, Astrid whips up the magic to summon the drake. In a flash of sparks and warped bands of reality,[1] the massive draconic beast appears with an unimpressed expression in his reptilian eyes. Still sopping with swamp water and blood from the hydra, he lowers his head to look at Astrid as if to ask where she disappeared to and why she has summoned him back here. Pressing his snout against her, he breathes in deep her scent as if to verify that it’s her, and then his head reels back suddenly, shaking from side to side in surprise. He smells fear. Panic. His front lip raises to reveal his teeth, a threat to whoever put her in this state.
“It’s alright, I’m alright,” Astrid says, raising her hands and approaching confidently. “We gotta get back ta Cyran.” Then she quickly leaps up into the saddle[2] and pulls the reins. In no time at all, Big Frizole is in the air and rushing back to the place he left Buttfellow with Del and Cyran. Each flap of his wings sends the drake surging through the air, and Astrid has to pull her goggles on to keep the wind from stinging her already reddened eyes. As they fly, she focuses the telescoping mechanism[3] down into the swamp below to look for either of the elves.
A small plume of smoke catches her attention, and she gears her mount in that direction. It’s not far from the opening the trees created by Big Frizole’s appearance earlier, and the drake lets out a roar to announce his presence before landing heavily in the same space. Astrid pulls her goggles off her eyes and looks around. “Cyran??” Then she spots the adults near the fire and leaps off of the drake, trudging through the water that slows her movements. “Cyran! Del!!” Astrid cries, dragging herself up to the plot of dry land that they’re settled on.
“Gods… I-I’m glad yer alright… S-Sorry…”
Behind her, Big Frizole settles next to the hydra corpse and continues snacking on his prize while Buttfellow watches with a blank stare.
1. Summon Mount 2. Step of the Wind 3. Telescopic Goggles
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Post by Delaela Fenastra-Asiliari on Jan 29, 2024 3:55:28 GMT -5
The Marsh Flats could be peaceful, Del thinks, as she tosses another little piece of dry timber on the fire. There is the distant sound of some sort of swamp bird chirring in the trees, the water smells loamy and the thick tree cover made the area muffle with silence. Perhaps if she sat and focused, she would be able to hear Astrid's approach, or someone else...
Clonk
Her jaw clacks as she's rocked back in surprise, hands digging into the soft earth behind her to help brace against the sudden impact of Cyran's crown with her chin. The alarm quickly shifts into relief. "Wh--! Cyran!" She bursts into a smile and secures her arms around her fiancee, both to steady him and to express her joy. "I will always come to you, love. But... what happened?" Del looks about, puzzled. The reature was dead, what had happened to Astrid. "Astrid's creatures are here, but I can't see her."
As Cyran explains in brief what had occured, his face filled with dismay and regret, Del's eyes widen. Astrid knew, now, and she had been... distraught. She grimaced slightly; this was what Cyran had wanted to avoid, she knew. Now Astrid was no where to be seen, and dammit, she could not reason with someone who was not there. Feeling her partner's stress and anguish, Del leans forward again to kiss his forehead. "We will find her, and... explain." she did her best to sound confident, but even Del was not sure. Whatever the reason for the young woman's departure, this was Del's fault.
"I'm sorry, my Moonlight," she murmurs. "I shouldn't have forced you two into this. I don't know where she's gone, but if we wait a little while longer--"
True to form, just then, there is a roar overhead. Del looks up, relieved at the sight of the drake, and apparently now bearing a rider. The wariness is an automatic expression she wears as Astrid approaches, a hypercautiousness of uncertainty given any situation. But the expression Astrid bore made that quickly vanish; she looked flushed, panicked. Del shifts slightly, raising her hand to Astrid to beckon her closer to the fire, concern bleeding through. She cannot even help the little smile of relif that touches her face, seeing that the young girl is in one piece. "It's alright, hon. Were just glad to see you're here and in one piece. come here," she gestures to the fire and looks to Cyran, quzzical; Astrid did not look vindicated or vengeful. If anything, she looked... scared.
That was almost the most terrifying thing at all. Del looks at Astrid, calm but serious. "You're not in any kind of trouble. Let me help. What happened?"
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Feb 4, 2024 13:14:00 GMT -5
Cyran sighed as Del pressed a kiss to his forehead. An explanation would be nice, but it didn’t change the immutable facts of what had transpired. Zarius had been possessed by something, and perhaps Cyran felt him die, or perhaps he was just trying to justify his decisions. There was no guarantee Astrid would see him as anything other than a monster. “Assuming she’s open to hearing one.” There was a chance that she’d used that potion to get as far away from him as possible, and Cyran wouldn’t object if that were the case. He just wanted to make sure she was safe.
He shook his head at Del’s insistence that the mission had been a mistake. “You didn’t force me into anything. I’m fine, I should be able to handle a measly monster, I should be able to handle questions-” Astrid wouldn’t be the last. Zarius had been influential, and his absence was felt in the world, even now. And if he couldn’t even hold himself together long enough to answer an inquiry without things fucking flying off the handle, then it was only his own fault for what happened.
Any further protests were cut off by the sound of a roar overhead; a drake’s roar. Cyran’s neck snapped up just in time to catch Astrid’s descent, and her harried cry. When her eyes landed on him, something akin to… perhaps relief flashed across her expression. Cyran pulled himself upright and out of Del’s lap as the half-dwarf approached them, waiting until she was close enough to finally wrap her in the hug he’d failed to give her during her departure. His shoulders shook as anxiety bled out of his system.
“No, no, don’t apologize - I was the one who distressed you, I should have been able to handle myself better. I’m the one who is sorry. I was just so worried... I was emotional, and the last thing I wanted was to make you feel like you needed to get as far away from me as possible.” He pulled away and wiped at his face, turning back to Del with a grateful smile. “I’m fine. The hydra was dead, but Del felt I was in trouble and found me before harm could find me first.”
He turned back to Astrid, taking in her expression. Something wasn’t right. She’d left in a hurry, and come back in even more of one… if she’d truly left because she was scared of him, then she wouldn’t have bothered coming back to make sure he was alright.
“Astrid? Where did you go?”
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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Feb 4, 2024 13:49:10 GMT -5
The hug from Cyran is unexpected but not at all unwelcome, especially given the state that Astrid is in. She finds herself leaning into his arms and fully accepting his embrace. Pressing her face against his chest, the feeling of tears welling up burns at the back of her eyes once again as he asks where she went. No, no more cryin’, please, she begs herself.
“I-I… I messed up, Cyran.” Astrid’s cracked voice is muffled by his shirt. “I didn’t mean ta… I didn’t mean ta scare ya. I-I just…” A shudder rocks her shoulders, and Astrid takes a deep breath to try to pull herself together. Crying won’t solve anything, it just won’t. But neither will lying. That won’t keep anyone safe. She can’t pull her face away, can’t face them after her misstep, her actions taken without thinking.
“Um… I…” Gods, how does she even say what she did? Where does she start? “I went there, ta see if… if it was true. An’... An’ I made a whole mess a’ everythin’. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought– I don’t know what I thought, I just…” Finally, Astrid pulls her face back to look up at Cyran, pain in her eyes and tear stains on his shirt. “They’re so angry, Cyran. They hurt so much. Why did you run away?? What happened?”
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Post by Delaela Fenastra-Asiliari on Mar 3, 2024 12:24:01 GMT -5
Del let Cyran up without much protest, knowing he was determined to go to Astrid regardless. She lets the pair have their moment, smiling wistfully as she settles where she is. Concerning and saddening though all this was, it was good, in a way, to see Astrid behaving her age. Allowing herself to be comforted and cared for after making a mistake. Though what mistake that was, Del could not fathom.
As she listens, though, it becomes swiftly apparent how much of an impact this could have. But it was not Astrid's fault. Far from it. Again, that fault belonged to Del.
She winces as Astrid asks her questions. Detailing the hurt of the family that had been left in ruins from Zarius' death, is hard to hear, but Del has only to look at Cyran and find her steel again.
"I will take the blame for that," Del speaks up quietly from behind them where she sits at the fire. Her expression is somber and drawn; tired. Still, in her amber eyes, something fierce and protective blazes. A certainty in her choice. "I sent Eameia a letter when we left, but I do not know if she has read it, if she shared it, or how she otherwise reacted to it. I did detail to her what I had been told occured while Cyran was recovering and why we were leaving for a short time, but whether or not it was heeded..." Del trails off, grimacing. If her words were not heeded or welcomed, then her attempts at mercy were for naught. Perhaps they should stay away a little longer...
"You did not make a mistake, Astrid." She adds calmly, attempting to reassure the young girl. Beckoning both Cyran and Astrid back to the fire again, inviting them to sit so it could be discussed properly, Del adjusts her posture. "You went out of your way to confirm something with people you trust. You did not mess up. We did."
Her gaze shifts to Cyran, expressing a quiet concern. He was a grown, capable man who could take care of himself, but she knew, could sense, how fragile he still was. If today was any indication, Cyran was still so deeply impacted by what had happened that he still had difficulty in not immediately succumbing to his guilt. Were they to return to Darkveil and address the situation in his current condition, there was a non-zero chance that he would confess to murder of his best friend. without them being able to get to the bottom of why it had happened in the first place. Zarius' family deserved answers, and Cyran did not deserve the punishment he thought he did.
The vision of her engagement dagger plunging into his chest was still vivid in her mind.
"I don't want to speak for you, love, but I am here to support and add my voice to yours as if you wish to explain. If you are not able, I will." She says to Cyran. Del beckons Astrid over to her side again, offering her own peternatural warmth and the comfort of an arm around her shoulders, if she chose.
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Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Mar 9, 2024 16:16:41 GMT -5
“No. If there is any blame to be had, it is mine.” Cyran closed his eyes. “When a stone is cast in a pond you don’t blame the ripples for the change in the water. I never meant to cause this much trouble, but I must atone for my own faults.”
He shot Del a grateful look when she mentioned the letter to Eameia. It was more than he’d been able to do. He wasn’t aware she’d sent one in the first place but it was… a relief to hear they’d not been left without any explanation. He had been resigned to the tale woven by Caedes, the only one between the two of them who’d been there that fateful afternoon who’d been brave enough to stay.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm. Now was not the moment to drown in his sorrows.
Cyran took the opportunity to nudge Astrid close to the fire, where Del had made space for the both of them. Del’s natural warmth and the flames from the campfire would serve to keep the young girl warmer in the damp chill of the swamp.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He murmured as soothingly as he could muster. In that moment it didn’t seem to matter that Astrid might have accidentally compromised their position, or that Anslem was all the closer to finding him. “You did what you needed to do. I was the one who gave you such distressing news.”
And Astrid’s question, broken and small, hurt more than the dagger he’d once plunged into his own heart.
Cyran’s mouth hung open for a moment, the words dead in his mouth, when Del voiced her support. He blinked tears out of his eyes and nodded.
“Thanks, hon. You’ll probably be able to fill in what I can’t explain. It’s my fault that I couldn’t hold it together earlier. I was so wrapped up in my own hurts I forgot I wasn’t the only one who cared about Zarius.”
He reached over and squeezed his fiancé’s hand before he turned back to Astrid.
“I know, I’m sorry… none of this was supposed to happen.” He started, holding as tight to his composure as he could. “The truth is that Zarius, Caedes, and myself were set to investigate those cultists. The ones that had been making sacrifices in the name of Vulcadreus. While we were investigating their cavern, Zarius was… possessed.”
He chose his words carefully, mindful of the fact that Astrid was only twelve. The two of them had fought the gods themselves together, but confronting the grim reality of a human death was far more sinister. Killing a god was akin to toppling a pillar. Killing a human meant losing a friend.
“I felt him die. But his body was still alive. I believed I was doing the right thing. Good or bad, I did it because I love Zarius, and he was my best friend. It was the only way I knew how to help. Caedes didn’t believe me when I tried to explain. And - and that’s okay! Regardless of my intentions, my actions harmed other people, and I know that. And then Vulcadreus was summoned, and there was no more time to talk…”
Cowardice dressed up in fancy words that looked like nobility.
“And afterwards, I thought…” His gaze darted towards Del. “I thought that there was too much instability to tear open wounds. I didn’t want to upset Zarius’s family more than I already had. I didn’t to endanger the kids. I thought, if Zarius’s family was hurting that bad and wanted revenge, the last thing I wanted to do was put them at risk.”
He made no mention of Del’s bounty - the other deciding factor on Cyran’s decision. Eameia knew the complete picture of Del’s history, more than Cyran did. And Madam Zewala knew Cyran’s. It would be all too easy for the both of them to leverage that against Cyran and Del - enough to sic bounty hunters against them if they wanted blood for blood.
Better to protect Del and the kids away from where Anslem could reach them.
“I have every intention of going back. Just… not yet.”
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Post by Lady Astrid Stormstone on Mar 14, 2024 19:04:13 GMT -5
Astrid messed up. She went back to Darkveil without just getting the whole story first. She made a rash decision. She startled Anselm. She reminded him of his hurt and anger. She tracked mud into his office that probably told him exactly where Del and Cyran might be. She messed up.
So why are they saying she didn’t?
“But… But I trust ya… Both a’ ya… I do,” Astrid insists, trying to wipe her tears. If she does, why didn’t she believe Cyran? Why did she have to go find out for herself? Why would Cyran lie about that kind of thing? If she trusts them, why did she press so much when he wanted to keep things to himself, probably to avoid hurting her like this. If anyone broke trust here, it’s her.
And even still, neither of them are upset with her.
Maybe she just… did what she thought she had to because she trusts them not to be upset with her? Astrid settles into that and takes a deep breath, then she wipes the rest of her tears and hugs Cyran tight before following him and Del over to the campfire where she asks what happened. And Cyran tells all.
Possessed… Zarius seemed possessed. And that isn't the first time something like that happened to him. Astrid recalls the time she ventured into the forests of Moonglade alongside Zarius to investigate the Clasp and how he suddenly turned on her. As hard as she tried to fix the dent in her buckler, Astrid never did really mention the event to him… Maybe she should have. Could this have been prevented if she did? He didn't seem aware of it at the time. Would things be different if he knew then?
While listening to Cyran and in thinking about Zarius, Astrid is again reminded of Vikram. His situation was so similar – some entity taking over a dear friend, and the only solution anyone could find was… To kill them. A pit forms in her stomach, and her eyes drop down to watch her thumbs twiddle together.
She knows exactly how Cyran feels, and a wave of regret and embarrassment washes over her. Astrid didn't want to talk about the situation with Vikram. She avoided it for so long, even avoided going home because of it. Just like Cyran, she ran away. Avoided the consequences, avoided facing people, avoided accepting what she couldn't change and felt responsible for on so many levels. She invented scenarios where people hated her and would never want to see her again. Yet…
That didn't solve anything. It didn't help her grieve or accept what happened. It didn't change anything. If anything, it made things worse. But that's not what someone wants to hear, and when they're trying to process it, the last thing they want to do is be forced to talk about it. She pushed and pushed and pushed until Cyran cracked and told her, and her shoulders slump with another wash of pain because how could she do that to him?
Still, talking things through, even when that's the last thing you want to do, is the best thing for anyone. With her voice quiet, Astrid says, “I...I know what yer goin’ through…” Melancholy seeps through every word, and her eyes stay low for a long moment before she continues. “I… Um…” Her voice catches in her throat, and she tries to erase it with a nervous lightheartedness. “Funnily enough, I dealt with almost the exact same thin’... It's um… It's why I left the Fighter's Guild. Well, maybe ran away from it's the better thin’ ta say…”
It's been months since the situation with Vikram, and thinking about it still hurts. Astrid has done her fair share of fighting, but she really does try not to kill people if she can help it. Purposely having to kill someone because there's no other solution, because that's the option that someone chose, a way for them to go out on their own terms? Well, the latter bit is the only way she's been able to start moving on from it at all.
So, Astrid takes a deep breath and starts telling Del and Cyran about Vikram. She starts with how they joined the guild together after making a scene in Sol City and getting arrested because of their duel. Then she tells them about the situation at The Pits where their fight with the champion nearly got her killed, and Vikram let in some celestial being to save her – how that was the beginning of the end, and she didn't even realize it. Though she pauses, remembering that Vikram asked her to find Zarius if he ever got worse, and she wonders aloud if maybe the two of them were working on something to prevent this together. She's not sure; she never got the chance to ask Zarius much about it.
Finally, Astrid takes another steeling breath and tells the elves about the situation in the temple in Sol City. How Vikram became fully possessed by the celestial, and as hard as she and Leandros fought to get him back, they couldn't. Astrid's eyes burn with tears, and no amount of blinking keeps them from seeping out of her eyes. But she remains steadfast as she finishes the story.
“We got a chance ta speak with Vikram himself near the end, an’ his wish was ta die as himself an’ not whatever had taken him over. So… We gave him that. It was really, really hard, an’ everythin’ after that was a blur, but…” Astrid looks at Cyran and Del with eyes full of tears but compassion and understanding on her face. “...Zarius cared a lot about folks, even if he weren't good at sayin’ it I think. An’... I think he woulda thought ya did the right thin’. Even… Even if it hurts. Even if it sucks. He'd want his family ta he safe. He'd want people he cared about ta be safe…”
With a shuddering breath, Astrid wipes her eyes then digs into her bag and pulls out the now crumpled envelope from Anselm. She stares at it for a long moment before looking at Cyran again. “I… I think he knew somethin’ was goin’ on. He wrote letters fer folks… Mister Anselm gave me this one, an’ he said there's one fer you too. So… Maybe readin’ that might help?”
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Post by Delaela Fenastra-Asiliari on Apr 28, 2024 15:15:59 GMT -5
Listening to Cyran tell the story again, she keeps her face as still as she can. Offered up as delicately as it was, the tale was no less harrowing. Through their connection, she could still sense Cyran's despair. Her fingers slip through his hand, knitting together as she runs her thumb gently across his knuckles in comfort. He was being very brave, telling this story at all; she was very proud of him for that.
As he concludes, she turns her gaze to Astrid. "Mount Drakholt erupted immediately afterward, bringing forth that... creature from within the volcano. Cyran..." she pauses, jaw wavering for a moment before she sets it again, stubbornly. "--sacrificed his wellbeing with a spell and a mortal wound to give everyone the advantage in tearing down that... giant thing. His bravery dealt it a catastrophic blow, though I am not sure who else witnessed his actions. I was able to get a potion in him and take him to safety to recover before the fight had fully concluded, which is why you did not see either of us in the aftermath. I didn't learn about what had happened with Zarius until after Cyran woke up."
Her gaze turns back to Cyran, a gentle curl of a smile forming as she looked at him. Leaving out the part about him setting aside his daggers for good; that was his truth to tell, not Del's. It didn't matter, anyway. Del was only grateful that he was still alive. "It was... a very bad wound." Carefully, Del tells the truth; she did not wish to rub salt in Cyran's wound, for she knew he regretted that his choice had hurt her. Even so, she was proud he had made such a hard choice. He had saved countless lives with his gambit, and had trusted her to save his. Still, she knew he felt the repercussions of this in spades. "He was, and still is, in no condition to confront anyone in Darkveil about what happened. I wrote the letter in his stead, as he was not able to at the time." She looks back at Astrid with a wry look. "He misses everyone, though. We both do. I thought Cyran getting to spend a little time with you would be a good way to help him get some activity back in, to help promote healing and connect with people other than me that he cares for. I know it didn't go quite as according to plan, but I am glad you were here with him."
Hopefully, that is enough to offer the young girl some encouragement, some assurance. Del falls silent as Astrid speaks up as well, her own morose demeanor coming through as she speaks on a man named Vikram.
The name was familiar, but that was all. Something she had heard in passing perhaps, in Zeinav. Her jaw tenses a little as Astrid speaks, though; it was an eerily familiar situation. Something that inhabited a person and stripped them of their soul, wearing their flesh as a suit to torment the loved ones of the deceased. A terrible fate.
The arm around Astrid's shoulder flexes slightly, offering a quiet reassurance in the way of a one armed hug. She looks at the young girl with hollow eyes of understanding. To know what it was to be responsible for a death, even though it was not your fault, not ever an intent to harm the ones we care for, but merely the result of circumstances well outside that control.
But, oh, again, this young girl was bearing a weight on her shoulders that would cause an adult to buckle.
"I am sorry you and your friends had to endure that." Her voice is heavy with the weight of this experience. "You... were a good friend to this Vikram. You gave him something that not many get, in the end; dignity. I know that sounds like meaningless platitudes, but I know, if it were me in either Vikram or Zarius' situation, I would want the same."
What she did not expect, though, was the compassion on Astrid's face as she finally lifted her gaze to the both of them. She looked at Cyran, her smile wavering now as she squeezes his hand. She knew Astrid was right. And she knew that the choice she had made to protect Cyran at any cost as he recovered was not an ideal one, but she did not think Zarius would begrudge it of her. It did hurt. It did suck. But Del never shied away from the hard thing; easier, then, for her to take the blame in keeping him away from Darkveil until he was ready.
"Letters?" She lifts her brows and glances back at Cyran, exchanging a glance. A faint grimace tugs at the corners of her mouth. "We aren't planning to head back towards Darkveil for a bit yet, but we might be able to see what we can do about getting those letters to us sooner than later. It would help us understand the lay of the land..."
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