#noctine

[looking-for-lost-stars]

Ash received a message from the planet the Milan was berthed over. "Lord Finley, this is lord Zarath, I'd like to make use of your services." The voice was slightly sneering, exactly what you would expect of a noble on an important planet such as this.

- Noctine for Ash

Ash sighed the tone alone made him want to say no. This was exactly why he didn't usually stop by his more well off planets. He set a reply a few moments later. "What service exactly?"

[thedarknesssings]

Prompt 1: Inheritance

Prompt 1: Envoy - FFXIV Write 2023 Characters: Arafel de Courcelle, Noctine de Sarmantoix, Seviere. Content Warning: Murder, torture, blood, cursing.

The metal of the locks and hinges screamed before giving way. The doors slammed open, dangling from their hinges. The eyes of the older elezen standing in the hallway bulged at the sight of the man straightening his clothing on his doorstep.

Something about the calm veneer of this stranger’s appearance sent a chill down Noctine's spine. A black suit tailored to fit his form to perfection garbed the man. A white, lace cravat blossomed at his throat and leather gloves creaked as they folded over the top of the silver octopus handle of his cane.

“Ser Noctine de Sarmantoix, I presume?” The man smiled, a slight curl at the corner of his lips. The expression never touched his eyes, leaving them as crisp as his voice. “My name is Arafel de Courcelle. May I come in?”

Noctine straightened his spine, a scoffing sound coming from him. Pure bluster as his hand shook when he gestured to the old housekeeper standing a few fulms behind him. “Get my sword.” His gaze came around to lock on Arafel, the blue of his eyes dull pin points. Noctine wasn’t a handsome man, not anymore. Age and anger etched his face in hard lines. “How dare you come in here like this! Get out of here before I call the guard.”

The old woman scurried away. Arafel stepped forward, over the threshold. Noctine backed away a pace.

“I never said you could come in. Get out! Get out! Villain.” Noctine spat out the words, red rising up his throat into his face. Spittle splattered from his ample lips. He backed away further, ducking into the parlour. The only weapon his hand found was the fire poker.

Arafel laughed, mirth finally creeping into his crimson gaze. “Unlike some, I don’t require manners to be met before I walk in your door. He’ll be here soon. We can all chat.”

“He? He who?” Noctine stepped behind an overstuffed armchair, using it like some sort of shield from the handsome man wandering into his parlour. One might think Arafel there for tea by the leisurely way he strolled in, cane ticking lockstep.

“Why,” Arafel tipped his head up to peer at the large framed picture above the fireplace. Noctine in his prime, garbed in armour, a once loved soldier and decorated knight of the Holy See. “Your son. You see, He’s been in my care for sometime. Recent events caused me to realize just how much he means to me, like the son I never had. Time is a cruel master, Noctine.”

“That scum? Selfish and spoilt. I should’ve tossed him out years ago.” Noctine hissed the words out, pure venom lacing his voice. “He’s not welcome here.” The poker thumped down on the top of the armchair to punctuate his words.

“Toss him out?” Arafel’s eyes widen, his gaze darting around the room. “Of his own house?”

“It’s -my- house. Mine!” A sneer stained Noctine's face.

Arafel shook his head, the cane rising a notch off the floor. The rubies inlaid as the octopus’s eyes glowed as he channeled aether through them. Fire exploded across the portrait, hungrily devouring the oil paint and scorching the canvas beneath. “Not for much longer.”

“Arafel?” A voice whispered behind him.

Arafel turned to find a pair of black and white eyes staring at him. The bard’s mouth was agape, teeth chattering with the anxiety riding through his system. Seviere crept closer to him. The nearer he got to Noctine, the more the bard seemed to curl into himself. Anger flared in Arafel’s gaze.

“He’s not welcome here!” Noctine exploded, forgetting himself enough to step out from behind the armchair toward Seviere. The bard flinched back, taking refuge behind Arafel’s form.

Lips peeled back from pearlesque teeth. “I say he is. Forever more.” Arafel’s smile was full of jagged teeth, sharp like a perfect predator.

The poker raised above Noctine’s head, his furious pace toward Arafel halting at that smile. “What the fuck are you?” He growled, his arms jerking like he was considering his options. Fight or flee.

Arafel gave him no choice. The man launched himself forward. One arm caught Noctine by the hair, the other snatched the poker out of his hand and flung it away. The strangled sound Noctine let out accompanied the bone snapping in his arm when Arafel grasped him around the bicep. A ragdoll in a puppeteer’s hands. “Shall I make him suffer, Seviere? Like he has you.”

“N-no!” Seviere stuttered the words out. The bard fell to his knees, hands planting on the carpet. The poker was lodged deep in the wall just beyond him. “No, please, Arafel. Not like this.” Tears choked the words in his throat. His gaze jerked between the vampire and the man in his hands. “Please. He can’t hurt me if you’re around.”

“I’ll see you pay for this, Seviere! How dare you! How dare you bring your filth here!” Noctine screeched. His feet kicked at Arafel, trying to find purchase to pull away. The one good arm he had still punched into Arafel’s chest repeatedly. Anyone else and Noctine’s fight may have found success.

Arafel clicked his tongue in reprimand toward Noctine. “Such vicious things to say to such a sweet lad. How he turned out so well is beyond me having heard so much about you, Ser Sarmantoix. Consider me an envoy and I’ll have peace in your family. For once.”

“You fuck—“

“No!”

The crunch of teeth breaking flesh filled the room. The copper scent of blood rushing from the gaping wound silenced the obscenities on Noctine’s tongue. Arafel wasn’t neat or kind. He yanked his teeth out, splattering blood along the way. His bite had just missed the artery. Noctine was in no danger of bleeding out yet.

“Disgusting. You taste as foul as your personality insists.” He spat the blood out on the carpet.

His grip shifted from Noctine’s hair to around his throat. No mind was given to the bard tugging at Arafel’s coat tails, the soft sobbing pleas answered only by the gentle pet of his hand over Seviere’s hair and cheek. Blood smeared over the pale skin and the white parts of his hair. Noctine struggled to extend his legs long enough to reach the floor, toes skittering and dancing across the carpet.

“Somehow, I’ll force myself. For Seviere’s sake.”

Noctine’s body landed heavily in the arm chair, a grunt torn from his throat. Arafel’s hand lifted, the poker in the wall shuddering prior to dislodging itself from the plaster and faded wallpaper. He caught it and propelled it forward into Noctine, pinning the man into the armchair through the soft part of his abdomen. Again, nothing that would kill him outright.

“Arafel, you don’t have to do this.”

“It’s long overdue, Seviere.” Arafel’s red eyes glowed, full of rage and hunger. His hand streaked more crimson across the bard’s black and white canvas. “Now watch as I put your nightmares to rest.”

The housekeeper never came back. Seviere knelt on the floor, trembling and crying, unable to pull his stricken gaze away from the scene of Arafel dismantling his father. Noctine’s cries, the sound of bones cracking, flesh rending, and the scent of blood ever growing eventually took its toll. He never saw the moment his father died or had any memory of how he climbed to his feet and fled from the house through the shattered front door.

The cold of the night was forever worse than the cold of the day in Ishgard.

[night-market-if]

Heyyy there! 👋

I'm curious of what do you love about this world you have created.

Who's your favorite baron, and why?

Favorite district and why?

Any favorite scene you've written, why?

Favorite line, why?

Lastly, favorite side character, and why?

Oh this will be a long one so strap yourselves in. :)

What do you love about this world?

Is everything an appropriate response? LOL! In reality, I love the lanterns. I can see them so perfectly and they are a mood and a vibe that just brings me such a creative sense of comfort and drive. I love the idea that there is this nexus point out there where realities and worlds can converge and I love that no one quite knows about big the market is. Endless streets lined with stalls, all of which have these little tiny booths, feels like a homey world to me.

2. Who is your favorite Baron and why?

That is incredibly hard for me to decide because a few of the Barons are characters I have in other games. If there was one I would keep going back to it would probably be Chrysanthemum and Noctine. There is so much to their story that you guys don't know and I am a sucker for royalty fae romance which is exactly their origin story. So, probably the Book Barons.

3. Favorite District

The Ren District. I was a kid that grew up on the idea of knights and princesses. I took several college classes on King Arthur. I loved jousting tournaments at local Ren fairs. I watched Knights Tale far too much in life... I love that district with everything I have.

4. Favorite scenes

I have two. The first, being Milo and the MC dancing in the rain. It was 4 a.m when I wrote that and we had a rain storm outside our house. I could just hear it pounding on our roof and the entire time I could just see so perfectly in my head this golden rain coating the streets and Milo dancing through it without a care. It was the happiest I think I have seen him in this IF and it is one I hold so very dear to my heart. If you haven't watched Lumineers Ophelia, do it. It has big vibes for that.

My second favorite scene is if you go confess your love to Belladonna. She was real and raw in that moment and I heard her voice echoing through my head for days. The backstory that she has is so far removed from who she is now and her entire conversation with the MC felt so intimate without them even touching.

5. Favorite line

I don't think I have one, actually. But I will say, sometimes I go back and read passages and giggle to myself because there are things that I wrote that I don't even remember writing. So it's all new to me.

6. Favorite side character and why

Caliban. Hands down, Caliban. He is my everything. He is the voice that is manic inside my own head. He is my comfort character. He is my go to when I need a good NPC that will provide depth to any scene he is in. I play him in Dnd and he was one of those characters that the second he started talking, I just couldn't get him to stop.

🪷✨🪷✨ If you want to support me 🪷 ✨🪷✨

        Demo 🌿 Patreon 🌿 Ko-fi

[mooreaux]

My boy Noctine! His colors always remind me of the dawn, and trans rights 🏳️‍⚧️

[nyxicnymph]

Tender

The Fortress of Meropide

"Here's another batch of signed med forms, direct from Miss Sigewinne."

Wriothesley looked up from his own work to find Noctin holding a folder out to him. As he went to take it, he couldn't help himself-

He wrapped his fingers around the base of Noctin's wrist and gently pulled him forward. Wriothesley pressed his lips to the inside of Noctin's wrist, right above the veins. Then he took the file.

"Thank you, mon cher."

Wriothesley looked up with a smile, to be blessed with the sight of Noctin, still stunned by the action. His ears were ever so slightly turning red as he searched for the words to say.

"I- How long have you been working on that, Duke?"

Wriothesley chuckled. "Long enough to be happily surprised by the outcome. You liked that, didn't you, love?"

Noctin crossed his arms, his ears still bright red. "Your offering has pleased me, yes."

Wriothesley laughed out loud, setting the forms aside. He offered his hand to Noctin with a gentle smile. "I must confess, that's not the only thing I've been working on."

Noctin took the offered hand, and let himself be guided around the desk. "Oh, please do tell, my Duke."

Wriothesley pulled him into his embrace. "Gladly."

[queersrus]

Owl Theme

tagging @bpdxhoardic, @w-onderhoy

(Nick)Names:

Owle, Owlet/Owlett/Owlette, Owlin/Owline, Owler, Owlie/Owly, Owel, Owling, Owled/Owledd, Owletta, Owlina, Owletto, Owlino, Owlucious, Owllouicious, Owlouis/Owlouise, Owlouisa, otus, otos, owlbert, owlberta, owlester, owlestar, owlastair, owlaya, owlex, owlexa, owlexo, owlexi/owlexie/owlexy, owlexina, owlexander, owlexandra, owlexandre, owlexandro, owlexis, owlfred, owlice, owlisia/owlicia, owliver, owlive, owlivier, owlivia, owliviar, owlivera, owliveira snowy/snowie, scop, screech, strix, sova, sowa athena, alba, azio, axio, asio, Atenea, Athenais, Athene, Afina, Athenodoros, Archimedes minerva wise, wiser, wisdom, wing, who, whoot Glaukopis, glaux, great, grey/gray, Gaebora barn, bar/barr, barred, burrow, beak, beaker, bumin, buho, baykuş, bufniţă eagle, eostrix, eule tawney/tawny, talon/tallon, true, tyto, tokori, tuto hoot, hooty/hootie ural, ugle, uil flores, feather, fly, flight, flyer knowledge, kotori, Kaepora, koukouvágia noctum, noct, nocturn/nocturne, nocturna, noctua caligo, cato, coruja, chouette, civetta jarli intel, intellect Laxmi, lilith pollo

1stp prns: i/me/my/mine/myself

ow/owe/owl/owline/owlself ow/owl/owls/owlself ow/owe/owly/owline/owlyself wi/we/wy/wise/wiseself wi/wise/wises/wiseself kni/know/knows/knowself kni/knowle/knowly/knowline/knowlyself kni/knowle/knowledges/knowledgeself ni/noc/noturn/nocturns/nocturnself ni/nocturne/nocturnes/nocturneself ni/ne/ny/noctine/nyself ni/noct/nocturnals/nocturnalself pri/pre/predi/predators/predatorself fi/fea/feather/feathers/featherself wi/wing/wings/wingself

2ndp prns: you/your/yours/yourself

ow/owler/owlers/owlerself wo/wiser/wises/wiserself kno/knower/knowers/knowerself no/noctur/nocturns/nocturself pro/predator/predators/predatorself fo/feather/feathers/featherself wo/wingr/wingrs/wingrself

3rdp prns: they/them/theirs/theirself

ow/owl/owls/owlself o/owl, owl/owls wi/wise/wises/wiseself wi/se, wi/ise, wise/wises kno/know/knows/knowself know/knowledge, know/knows, know/ledge noct/nocturn/nocturnes/nocturneself noct/urnal, noct/nocturnal, nocturn/nocturnes, nocturnal/nocturnals pred/predator/predators/predatorself pred/ator, predator/predators fea/feather/feathers/featherself feath/er, feath/feather, feathers/feathers wi/wing/wings/wingself wing/wings, wi/ing

Titles

the owl, the owler, the owlette, the caretaker of owls, the protector of owls, the owl trainer, the nocturnal one, the day sleeper, the night flyer, the barn owl, the snowy owl, the horned owl, the nocturnal predator, the one who hoots, the night hunter, the wise one, the wise owl

(prn) who flies at night, (prn) who hoots, (prn) who sleeps during the day, (prn) who hunts at night, (prn) who trains owls, (prn) who is owl-like, (prn) who cares for owls, (prn) who is nocturnal, (prn) who protects owls, (prn) who is wise

this owl, this owl trainer, this nocturnal predator, this wise owl

[talesoftheunimagined]

Y'know, I'm kidding myself thinking I could live and survive in any one of my favourite fantasy universes, completely ignoring the fact that I can't go 5 seconds without saying "Wait....WAIT. Where's my vape?"

Like a noctine addicted Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit wanting to turn the whole party around because I forgot it :')

[lewnareclips]

Noctinic - xenoid relating with space, darkness, dreams, celestial bodies.

free to use_!

[dykes-for-dnd]

Hi everyone!! This isn’t meme related but I did a drawing of my dnd character, Noctine (they/them)!! I’m really happy with how it came out so I thought I’d share

[revyra]

@kyubey-kat

remember those art memes from 600 years ago yeah i’m finally getting to them

[night-market-if]

I have to ask, the story that Caliban tells us in the cell... that's obviously Noctine and Chrysanthemum, right? I really want to learn more about those three. Is there anything you can tell us about them? Too spoilery?

Yes, it is Noctine and Chryssi he speaks of. Along with another character that you haven't met.

Now, here's the thing. Caliban? Barely knows them. LOL! He knows of them. He had spoken to them. But he does not know them well. He is just a man who loves his stories and Noctine and Chryssi are a STORY.

Chrysanthemum is a fae princess of an Autumn fairie court. Long before she came to the Night Market, she was young, naive, spoiled, and barely trusted within her kingdom. She was more the heir they patted on the head. Noctine, is the fae prince of the Winter court. Brutal. Sharp. Feared. Relatively forgotten by his court which is just the way he likes it. The two of them, due to a lot of circumstances, end up meeting and falling in love. Mainly, because they see something in the other that the world has never given them. Noctine believes in Chrysanthemum and knows that she is far more than what the world is allowing her to be. And Chrysanthemum looks at the blood on Noctine's hands and washes it away without judgement. They are by far some of my favorite characters and has been a wonderful duo to play with between me and @mooreaux.

🪷✨🪷✨ If you want to support me 🪷 ✨🪷✨ 

Demo 🌿 Patreon 🌿 Ko-fi 🌿Discord

[mooreaux]

Cleaning out my wip folder pt 2 night market and homeland sketches of me and @night-market-if s ocs

Don’t tag as your own/use

[nyxicnymph]

New Year, now for an OC

Meet Noctin! He(/they) has mixed Liyue/Mondstadt heritage, but currently resides within the fortress, as the Chief of Administration. Aka he does the paperwork now.

I'll give out cookies if you can guess who his dads are. (Moots I'm side-eyeing you /joke)

[gracelingdesolate]

i read a single line of dialogue from chito and now i’m sitting here half balling my eyes out fuck

[goddessofroyalty]

I wonder what Cloud would do if Prompto ended up following Sephiroth. Like, he's not gonna kill his kid, and could he really sit back and let someone kill him? Maybe he'll just give up and go hang out with Lucrecia. Ignis and Gladio probably are more motivated to try and change Prom and Noctis' minds but Cloud tried for so long to change Sephiroth's that he just doesn't have any faith in doing it. (But I could also see Ignis and Gladio trying to change their minds by pretending to be on their side and casting doubts in them? Just knowing how stubborn their friends are, lol. (And what if that worked better on Sephiroth than Prom and Noct?))

Yeah it’s a really difficult position for Cloud to be in. Because he absolutely doesn’t want to kill his kid or even just his kid to die generally but he’s also all too aware that Prompto has to be stopped. He probably feels a lot of guilt TBH - firstly and probably mostly for having a child with Sephiroth. He loves Prompto but maybe if Prompto’s father had been someone else then Prompto wouldn’t now be trying to destroy the planet. Secondly because Cloud does eel like he should be doing more to protect the planet and not be letting the fact it’s his ston stay his hand.

Honestly Cloud probably tries to prevent Sephiroth and Prompto from succeeding through like getting to the things they need to destroy the planet and either destroying them (if possible without making the situation worse), or hiding them. He’s still protecting the planet without risking his sons life.

And hoestnly he’s damn lucky that unwillingness to kill goes in both directions of the relationship and Sephiroth & Prompto don’t want to kill him either.

Ignis and Gladio are similarly torn because hoenstly they were raised and groomed to protect Noctis and serve him. Their life’s purpose is for Noctins. And while it’s a painful shock to them when they find out that Noctis was destined/meant to die to save the planet they still aren’t convinced destroying the planet is the right choice. And surely if you have the power to the destroy the planet than you also have the power to find a different way to save Noctis without... destroying the planet.

They are both also aware that they are the people most likely to convince Prompto and Noctis off their plan. They already have both Noctis and Prompto’s trust and both Noctis and Prompto are already used to listening to their positions and at least considering them. So they join them and then try to convince them not to destroy the planet.

[safestsephiroth]

An Incomplete History Of Ala Mhigo

Excerpts from coded messages left for Ashley Rosenheim within A Complete And Uncensored History of Ala Mhigo by Bernard Undertaker, given to Ashelia Riot for safekeeping.

Undercity in turmoil. Garleans have assumed control of the city. Approx. 1/4 staff report survival after escape attempt. Made the Garleans an offer. They think me cowed. They will learn their mistake. All I have to do is live long enough to see the day.

No word from Tia Malheur. Alma Malheur reported dead. Makes sense. They told me Ashley’s dead, too, but I don’t believe it. You’re better than that, Ashley. I know you’re still out there. I’ll find you, whatever it takes. I’m not losing you, too.

They think this book is me writing a historical textbook for fun. They cannot crack our cipher. But at least they think me boring. Good. Let them.

The man assigned to relay if your wife and daughter escaped safely was found dead today. Tried entering the city through the front gate. The depths to which I’ve had to resort, hiring idiots like that. Garleans won’t let me inspect the body or tell me what it was carrying. That might mean they’re fine, or it might mean they want me to have hope.

Persuaded the Garleans not to torture me. Sold several staff remaining in the city to them. Death and disability are unacceptable. I must be ready when the counterattack comes. When Eorzea fights back. It will happen.

Garleans demanded I marry. Intend to use a spy to watch me, think I’ll love her. As if that could happen.

The agent appointed to marry me is an idiot. I somehow find this even more insulting. She plays at being kindhearted. But she’s nervous. I can see she’s thinking too hard about what she says before she says it. Careful with her words. She’s got to have some sort of angle. All of their kind always do. She’s pretending she doesn’t notice I notice and it’s infuriating me. They’re force me to live on their compound, now, too.

The Garlean blinks twice every time you ask her a question that takes any thought to answer at all. Every single time. It’s a delay tactic. It’s irritating. Sloppy. This is the kind of spy they send to watch me, one who has such an obvious tell?

Gridanian source says Tia Malheur and Ashelia Riot have yet to be seen, but the horde of refugees is thick and the conflict with the city’s guards has made identification difficult. It seems likely the Garleans would kill them if caught and identified. And taunt me with the bodies.

The Garlean doesn’t stretch her joints enough. I can hear her ankles pop when she walks across the room at night. I hate her so much.

Sold another agent today. Still haven’t found you, Ashley. Can’t die yet. City needs freed. You need saved. She wasn’t doing anything of any real value, anyway. Her “Resistance cell” was her, her brother and their dog. No significant cost to the cause.

The Garlean asked to try the food I was cooking. I wish I could have poisoned her. She claimed to like it, too. Either she was telling the truth or she’s a great liar pretending to be a terrible one. I’m not sure which it is, yet.

Been reading further into voidsent summoning. Told them it was a book about Ala Mhigan rituals to track enemies by using their blood. The idiots believed me. They don’t know a single thing about our culture. 

Binding powerful things to my will? Still beyond me, and probably always will be. Tiny voidsent? That’s doable. Can see through an ahriman’s eye, but grow it too much, and... well. Testing will be necessary.

How ironic I used the eye of an ahriman as my icon and soon I’ll literally look through one.

The Garlean mentioned the way I sit reminds her of an old friend she knew. I’m not her friend.

The Garlean bought me a book, said it was because she saw me writing so often. ‘Garlemald: A Glorious History’. What a thinly-veiled attempt to brainwash me. Child’s play. 

After I read the book, she pretended to sympathize with me: “It was assigned reading at the Academy. It’s pretty thorough but has a clear bias. Can I read your Ala Mhigan history book?” They clearly want her to see if I’m writing in code. Good luck cracking this cipher. All she’s going to see is a boring history textbook.

I told her it isn’t finished yet. She offered to ‘help’ with research. As if she could. As if I’d let her. What an idiot.

“Bernard Noctine”. When the city’s free, I’m going to burn every single document they ever dared to write those words on. No one must know.

I also need to destroy every single image that exists of me in a suit. A suit! Rhaglr’s blood, I’m going to see them all burn.

Especially the tailor. “Red and black, perfect for your new country.” I’m going to figure out a way to see him burn.

I used to think your wedding was the most awkward and uncomfortable experience I’d ever been through. I remember Marco saying he’d be the best man at my wedding. I’m glad he can’t see this.

Garleans demand I sire a child. They’ll take the thing away, off to their Academy. As a hostage. As if I would care. But it disgusts me all the same. The thought. My blood, swinging a Garlean sword. Learning their culture as if it were proper to. Told they’re superior to what we grew up with.

A young idiot threw a grenade at a Reaper tank collecting taxes near a quarry. That sort don’t want a revolution, they want recognition. Nobody will remember his name.

I fail to understand the appeal of procreation. Spent the entire time waiting for the dagger I was sure she was going to pull on me when my guard was down. Still waiting.

Why would anyone want to be that close to someone? I tolerated hugs for Marco’s sake, but this is far, far worse. Uncomfortable. Irritating. A waste of my time.

Haven’t heard from Gustav. Worried he’s gone native. Boy was always more clever than smart. Maybe they’ve tortured him. Maybe they’ve broken him. Would be a waste.

Found what I was looking for - a concoction that will sterilize me. Should’ve done it years ago. What use do I have for a child? As soon as the first one’s born, I’ll make sure there’s never a second.

The Eorzeans show no sign of assisting us. When Baelsar goes West, they’ll see their folly. Perhaps then we can strike, while the garrison is gone.

The Garlean is with child. Good. I’ll kill it at birth, tell her there were complications, then play up that I’m so aggrieved the thought of making another is unbearable. That should work. If nothing else, the sterilization is something they won’t be able to deny is real.

Every time I look at the Garlean there’s something odd I feel. Not sure what it is. Some sort of spell? Garlemald doesn’t know this sort of magic, do they? Is she drugging me?

The Garlean offspring is due in days. Preparations are complete. I’ll finish the job myself. Can’t trust anyone else.

Couldn’t do it. Can you believe it? It was strange. I’ve never hesitated before. I’ve never felt the ‘guilt’ people talk of when they kill people. But I saw it... no, I saw him screaming. Crying. Pathetic. Weak. And yet Ala Mhigan all the same. I made a split-second decision while the Garlean was unconscious. It would’ve been so easy to make her death seem accidental, but not worth the risk. Took my son. Sent him away. Used his blood, my blood, the Garlean’s blood. Summoned and bound a small ahriman. I can watch the boy through it. This will work. This is good.

The Garlean’s attempts to convince me she thinks anything more of the boy than that he’s a tool to manipulate me have not deceived me. She cannot and will not be trusted. None of their kind can be. I will not fall for her faked tears.

He is my son. And he will be my only son. The concoction works. No more worrying about procreation.

The “agents in charge” were furious. Claimed I was making it all up. Their leader thinks he sees through me. Perhaps he does. But he can prove nothing, and I can prove myself incapable of siring another child. They demand the Garlean stay with me regardless. Continue this charade of a marriage. It’s a punishment, I’m sure.

His name will never be ‘William Noctine.’ He will not be named after the filth that sired his mother. He will never, ever meet that mistake of a family. He will never go to their academy, fight in their military, work as their slave. He will be free. He will be strong. He’ll have the life we couldn’t have, even if it means I have to get him out of here.

This ring stifles my hand. I refuse to wear it.

The Garlean cries. She is my enemy. I don’t care.

The Resistance is weakening. They were passionate, but disorganized. One by one they die or depart. They’re solidifying into various factions. The weakest will die, unable to support themselves. I can keep the strongest alive, possibly.

Garlemald continues to seep through this city’s skin. All the Twelve are absent. There are statues - of Garleans. Disgusting.

A child threw a stinkbomb at a Garlean patrol. They shot him in the street.

Children are sequestered away. My son is safe, but lives in filth. So did we. If he is more my son than hers, he will survive.

I hate them all.