a-memory-of

[a-memory-of]

Ellere Valahan was relatively quiet on the walk back from the ruins to the ship. The captain briefly questioned the lack of the third passenger, but Ellere simply told him it was fine. Once they were on their way back to the mainland, she found a spot on the deck near Nathaniel to linger.

"I will not lie. I expected Ruran to go against his word, when I tasked him to come alone. Though of all the members of his entourage, I didn't expect you to show up."

"Mm?" she rose a brow, "Well, I suppose I am insistent. Do not blame him, he did try." There was another pause, and she leaned against the railing, elbows bent as her eyes were out on the sea. "You can call us friends, you know. Though, Ruran never mentioned you, it was the first I had heard he had a mentor."

"He was not supposed to mention me," Nathaniel Salem stated, clear as day. "I did not want anyone to be even aware of my existence until all of this was done and complete. Men of Ruran's ilk are meant for greatness. Their entourage tends to fault them. Push them to failure. Based on petty feelings and sentiments - even when it was never about them."

"Ruran's heroism was praised only when it pleased them. They feared Ari'doram, and did not realize its worth. The boy was misusing it, but nothing that couldn't be fixed,” he continued. "If I hadn't isolated Ruran the way I did, many would have pushed the crystal to break his body with words alone."

Ellere frowned, shaking her head. "I do not agree. Perhaps Ruran is meant for greatness, but even a hero needs help. It was not Ari'doram that he nearly lost himself to, but his sorrow. The strength that took, is worth more praise than taking up the sword."

"For a long time I did see Ari'doram as an enemy, I hated it, hated what it was doing to him," she looked down to the waves. "But I understand it differently now. Feelings are what brought him this far. If you believe them to be worth nothing, then that is of your own mind."

"I was not dismissive of his feelings. I was dismissive of yours." He added, calmly. "Something you can not stand, it would seem. But you are admitting it yourself, are you not? You saw Ari'doram as an enemy; you just admitted to hating it. That time spent fighting the wrong the enemy pushed this... Sorrow, as you called it."

"His incredible drive is the reason why he was chosen. We need not debate on such a thing. And yes. I did think he needed help; otherwise, I would not have sacrificed so much of what little free time I have to truly help him navigate this issue for the past half-year. Regardless of what you think now, what you thought in the past is precisely what I want to avoid. Men and women acting like cattle, fearing aetherial constructs, and what they do to the soul. Fearing power, even in the hands of those they trust and love."

"Selfish thoughts. To 'save'. To 'preserve'. When Ruran consented to Ari'doram's aetherial push, even if it was to swallow him whole,” he looked elsewhere, slow in his movement, detached in his words.

"No," she shook her head again, "I know Ruran believed my intent. I cared for him, I always will. I wanted him to live, and therefore I felt I was set against whatever entity lived in the stone, long before I knew what it was."

"I never feared it. Call me selfish all you will, but I have spent the last three turns reminding Ruran how to live, even when he believed he was dying. He wanted to stay, deep down. He had hope, yet. The sorrow came from pushing others away."

She went quiet herself, sighing. She likely was not going to make the man understand. "But you are right, what use is debate. I have no doubt that Ruran is one of the few that could ever do what he has done. And he is alive now, and that is all that matters."

___________________________________

With @will-of-the-traders​

He paused for quite some time after her. "It must be nice, to love and think as you do." The delivery is gentle, but it does not feel right.

"Let us admit you were an exception, then. Would you still deny my words? That the world is not ready for men and women like Ruran? That it needs to be taught, first? Mages of our standing study, research, to become lorekeepers. To give the mundane truths they can not even conceive."

"I had not seen you. But I had seen the others. Not knowing my involvement with Ruran, they would seek me out that I may help. I lied to them, of course--but kept helping where they could not see me. The way they spoke with such concern, and disgust of the stone -- and with so much love of Ruran. Failing to understand he was both, and one, at the very least in ideals."

"This sorrow was not always of his own design, and I believe, deep down, you also knew this. He was not unlike those saints that would have been stoned in life by the people they sought to protect, only to be canonized in death. No more."

"Think what you will. I protected him. If you were here, then it means you were meant to be. I will not deny Nymeia a right to surprises." He went silent.

Ellere finally glanced away from the ocean and to him instead. "I am not so foolish to not see him as others might. I have seen what the two of them can do, what that power does. They were not wrong to fear for Ruran."

"I am also not so foolish to deny that I have hurt him, speaking as fervently as I once did that he should shirk his duty and think of himself, and that others have said the same," a hand still leaned against the railing curled into a fist.

"But I fell in love with the man. He was one before, he still is. He deserves to be. I cannot fault others who see him as such because they do not understand," she shrugged her shoulders, "Maybe we sought to protect different things. But what do I know... after all, I am selfish in thinking so, mm? I do not see us changing each other's mind."

He looked back to her, as if gracious enough to not deny her such a thing. Lidded eyes studied her from head to toe, and it feels as though he's partaken in this conversation a thousand times before. "Why would we need to? Our thoughts are in the same place. I do not know what it is you seek to defend with such ardor. You have done your best, haven't you? And you are now about to be rewarded with a man made whole."

He unfolded an arm to gesture with it a gloved hand, light. "I learned what I wanted to learn. Thank you for this."Nathaniel tilted his head back slightly without breaking eye contact, his earrings chiming in the process. "A good thing to know he will have people to return to, humanity regained."

"Perhaps I still think I am but dreaming, that I am still being tested," Ellere shook her head, "Here I am arguing with a man I do not even know in name. I know not what you thank me for."

She sighed heavily, leaning a her hip on the railing, "All I have wished for so long is for him to live, to know happiness again, even if I am not part. He has many that wait for him."

"Azeyma is here of our trials, Nald for our opportunities. Do not blame me for probing as I do. You are a physician, are you not? A common act when one is to determine what kind of..." He licked canine as he looked for the right word, though seems to settle for something nicer, "...Subject they are dealing with. My name is irrelevant either way. All I do, I do for the sons of man. It is all you need to know. I bear no ill feelings toward you. Even if I did, I doubt I would have time to act on them."

"I suppose it is true," she nodded her head, "As I bear none to you. Ruran is, after all, a fairly good judge of character I find. If you hide your name, I will not pry. As with people who wear masks, they have their reasons."

"I apologize, I am usually of more sound mind, but as you can imagine my thoughts have been overly troubled. My heart still races."

"Keep your apologies for when you will have committed a legitimate offense. In dismissing my pragmatism, you showed you felt more than you thought. At least more than me."

He gestures dismissively, looking ahead. "It's a formidable trait. I can not fault you for feeling even now. Have your little heart race away." He gestured dismissively, looking ahead. "It's a formidable trait. I'm used to barking."

Ellere looked away herself, but her gaze finds itself back on the water willing for land to get closer. "Barking? What company you must usually keep, then." She looked to the sky, then pulled back from the railing a bit.

"It should not be long. I believe I should... sit for a bit, I know not what will find in the temple. You mean to stay out here?"

"I will not deny you the right to privacy. Go and get that well-earned rest. Should you fall asleep by the time we get to our destination, I will come and wake you."

Ellere actually let out a breathy laugh, "As if I could truly sleep now. I merely take precaution when... I use such an extended amount of my aether. And it is best to be prepared. Thank you, for that chat. And for the rest."

The man nodded in her direction, perfectly affable. He said no more.

[a-memory-of]

When Ellere Valahan opened her eyes again, she was in the same ruin, the now emptied statue a few fulms away. And Ruran was gone. The steady stream of sunlight in the opening above showed not much time had passed. A hand moved up to her head as she swayed a bit on her feet.

She glanced to the side, noting Nathaniel was also still there, though she did not know if he, too, had experienced the same.

Nathaniel Salem frowned and closed his eyes, breathing in as one would to stave off a headache. His eyes caught a glimpse of Ellere's form, and he lingered, nodding in her direction. "...How are you feeling?" For all his venom of earlier, he seems far softer.

Ellere shook her head, "Fine enough. Fine enough to return to the ship, and from there I am going to Qarn." She pulled her gaze away and looked up toward the sunlight, as if that was where Ruran had actually gone. "I suppose you saw it too, or... felt it. I do not know what to call it, but I know he asked me to come for him, and I will."

"You're not going alone." He states as a self-evident fact, staff in hands. "What you saw was the will of Ari'doram made manifest. The stone's aether went through both of us during the rejoining." His eyes go through her a time, then he asks, tentatively, "What did you see?"

"I would not deny you it, so long as you did not try to stop me," her eyes were clear, she looked more calm than she had upon coming here in the first place, as if she was content. But her lips still twitched into a frown.

Ellere looked down a moment, "A ruin, a place I think built in reflection of Ruran's heart. And he was there. His... wife," Ellere paused at the word, "Tried to call him home, but it was wrong. She was not real."

He seemed to regain confidence as she explained her vision. "...I stand corrected. Ruran's will, then. Dreams weaved of aether," he explains. "I see. Ruran yet lives, Lady Ellere." He held his staff with both hands, perfectly calm. "A prowess. And hopefully the first of many, coming from Ruran, the Crystal Bearer - no longer a vessel."

"Ari'doram spoke to me, told me the oath I made was done," she nodded, wrapping her arms about herself as if in comfort. There was but a hesitance, in continuing. Yet Ruran trusted this man, and despite first impression, she did not see a reason not to trust him herself

"Some time ago, Ari'doram told me that it wanted Ruran to live, and it asked me to make sure he did not lose his way," her hands fell away and she gestured with one, "This-- the dream, a test perhaps, I do not know. But I know it had to be Ruran to make the choice."

"We are never truly alone, when it comes to choosing paths for ourselves. We draw upon our environment, our desires, our moral standing." He spoke evenly, without breaking eye contact. Nathaniel remained placid. "Ari'doram and I spoke, and it remembered its place as a tool made for mortal hands."

The priest tilted his head to the side, tone low, then approached her, opening a hand towards the aquamarine necklace he'd given her, quietly asking for it. "To Qarn."

Ellere nodded, she believed in much the same. "I think Ruran finally sees the truth in this, at least, I hope he does." Looking to his extended hand, she removes the amulet, handing it back.

"You have been there, I assume, the heart of the Temple where Ari'doram was found? That is where he will be." She gestured her head in return, moving toward the long hall they had entered from. "We can speak more on the ship, I believe perhaps we got off on the wrong foot."

He took the amulet in a gloved hand without breaking eye contact. "My reserve comes from a fair place," is all he said. At that, the jewel disappeared in his hand, aetherially ported elsewhere in a hidden pocket. He turned around and opened an arm towards the path ahead of them, that she may lead the way out.

____________________________________

With @will-of-the-traders​

[a-memory-of]

The landscape around her had changed. A large, stony plaza stretched out before her, ancient buildings rising on each side, silhouetting a sky burning bright with gold and white.

The place felt different. Odd. Visions shifted out of the corner of her eye, as though anything could change in an instant once out of view. The soft sound of ticking could be heard. While at first it would be difficult to determine where it was coming from, she would soon realize it was coming from...everywhere. In the cracks of the cobblestones in the floor and walls, she would see clockwork gears turning.

Above her, a vibrant sun shone, large and bright. However, a small blue star twinkled beside it, its own hue not lost in the radiant sky. In the center of the plaza was a large summoning circle, old and broken. The runes were ancient and unreadable, although its purpose seemed clear enough on its own.

On the opposite side, she would find the body of Ruran Vas sitting on a tall stone throne. His head hung down, golden light flickering behind the white mask. He was garbed in ancient robes, and the marble mask was much more ornate than the one the knight always wore. A long scepter leaned loosely against the crook of his thumb and forefinger, resting against the throne. An aura of power emanated from him, despite being unmoving.

Ellere Valahan remembered reaching out for Ruran, knowing the feeling of a tell-tale teleportation spell being cast. But the light was blinding, and her hand only brushed the air. The next she knew, she was somewhere else entirely. A place she had no name for. She looked up first, the bright sky, the sun, the star. It was enough for her to determine this place was not any that she knew to be real.

Her gaze drifted down, over the buildings and catching on the turning gears. Her head shook, unconsciously, confused. Then she saw him across the way. The stuttering sound of the beginning of his name left her lips as she stepped forward. Looking down at the runes beneath her feet for just a moment, Ellere closed the distance between them.

"Ruran..." she whispered, frantic, partially kneeling at the foot of the throne and her hand reached out over his.

As she crossed the circle, the sky shifted like a heat wave, but it was far too sudden and organic, as if a wing had stretched over the air. At her touch, the light in Ruran's eyes flickered. A quiet inhale, and he began to rouse. "Ellere..?" It was Ruran's voice, quiet and slow with confusion. "Wh--where..."

She spared the sky a brief glance, noticing the change. But the sound of Ruran's voice drew her attention away. It was soft, it was his. It was one of the few familiar things here. Ellere shook her head, taking his hand between both hers. "I do not know," she looked up at him. "I remember the light took you. And then I woke here."

Realization seemed to finally strike him, and he sat up straighter. "No--" The scepter in his hand dropped and clanked against the stones. "This is not--I should be--" His eyes pinched shut, and he took a few moments to gather himself. "I don't understand..."

"Hush," she gently soothed him. Ellere bit down on her lip and shifted her weight to retrieve the fallen scepter. She kept one hand firmly in his, as if that contact would keep granting her whatever this was, keep him there. "I... do not either. But I am here. And so are you. Let us take a breath, and focus on that. Then we shall find out why."

Ruran nodded. "Y-yes, of course." He did his best to push aside his concerns. He lifted himself from the throne and took a few steps forward. His attention turned to the scene around them, the summoning circle and the ticking walls. But the words that followed were unrelated, "I never thought I'd see you again," the knight murmured in her direction. "I am...relieved."

Ellere pushed up to her feet herself, giving him space to stand. He looked so different, clad in such formal robes and mask that caught the light of the sun as it did. She breathed out, a small quiet laugh. One that was probably to keep her from crying instead. "As am I... we had spent so much time together, yet, I knew it would never be enough. It would never prepare me for when you..."

________________________________

With @weepingknight

Ruran frowned. For all he knew, he could be leaving this world. Or was gone already. He put his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. "You have always been strong, and you always will be." There was no stone around his neck, notably. 

"There you are," a voice suddenly spoke. Standing where Ellere had first entered, and woman with tanned skin with light brown hair was smiling. She wore an outfit typical to a casual resident of La Noscea. Behind her, a portal of white light shone.

Ruran froze. Behind the ornate mask, his eyes widened. Slowly, he turned his head to look toward the figure. His breath had stopped.

Ellere doubted the strength he spoke of. Experience had taught her enough. But it did not make it easier. Not this, not with him. The voice startled her, both hands gripping the scepter. She looked across the way, not recognizing the woman. The way Ruran had tensed beside her told her he did. "Ruran?"

The sky shifted again but remained bright and vivid. Ruran stared straight ahead. If Ellere could see beyond the mask, she would have seen the color drain from his face. 

"Ruran? You must mean Locke. My husband." She smiled again, too sweet. The woman held out one hand to beckon him to her. "Come along, Emma is waiting."

An image appeared in the portal behind her. It portrayed the scene of the inside of a house, and a small girl playing with a stuffed moogle toy. She had wavy blonde hair, and her eyes were a striking blue. Ruran took a step forward, as if by instinct.

Something about the woman seemed...off. It was difficult to put a finger on. The scepter thrummed with power in Ellere’s hands.

Ellere's eyes widened. Slowly she put features together and remembered, the young woman in the visions at the workshop. But she also remembered what else she had saw. It made little sense why this woman would be here. Another vision, yes, just like the buildings and the sky perhaps. It was different, however.

Reaching out, Ellere grabbed Ruran's closest hand. Her heart ached. She could see it, what lay beyond that woman. She knew Ruran had wanted it. Knew he deserved it. But something was telling her to hang on to him. "Ruran, this... it doesn't feel right."

As Ellere spoke truth, small blue flowers began to sprout at her feet, pushing their way up from between the stones. Ruran glanced toward their hands, although his attention was still focused forward. "I gave up everything..." His quiet voice whispered. "To protect our family." 

"You did," the woman smiled. "And you have done well, and fulfilled your oath. Your time in this world is over, Locke. Come here, embrace us. Embrace her." She motioned to the girl still playing behind her. "She misses you dearly." 

Ruran took another step, but then he paused. Ellere's words remained with him. Ellere's presence, too, made him conflicted. He looked back to Ellere, searching her expression. His hesitance caused the woman's arms to cross, impatient.

"I know, I know you did," Ellere dropped her eyes a moment, pinching her brow together. This was cruel. When she opened her eyes, she saw the flowers at her feet, unsure. He stepped forward, and she did not. Her hand held his, stretching her arm as far as it allowed. "There is no one more deserving, but... the workshop, Ruran, what we saw."

She looked up at that, meeting his gaze. "Why would they be here now...? They knew nothing of what you did for them. This," she squeezed his hand, "This is all that feels real in this place. And to let you go-- ... everything in me is screaming not to."

More flowers bloomed at Ellere's feet, spreading outward. Ruran's eyes flicked, searching his thoughts. She spoke sense. Her hand was comforting; it always had been. He gave the barest of nods, considering.

The woman watched, and her posture tensed as Ruran deliberated. "Locke," she said again, her voice harder with the smile gone. "You would forsake your own daughter? Your own wife? Come here. Now." Upon closer inspection, cracks had begun to form in her visage.

Ruran's gaze didn't leave Ellere, even as the command rung in his ears. Were he just a bit weaker willed, he would have obeyed. "I do not...want to..." He quietly murmured, the words of rejection unfamiliar on his lips.

It was not easy, watching him. Had Ellere herself been given such a choice, in another time, she knew her own heart would be conflicted. "Whatever this place is," Ellere began, taking her own steps forward now through the blooming flowers. "Whoever they are. Your heart knows the truth."

Ellere closed the gap, releasing his hand only to draw him into a tight embrace instead. "You did not forsake them. You kept them safe. You fought and bled, for them for so long." The words were spoken low, near his neck, as her arms wrapped around his shoulders and gripped his robed back.

Ruran put his arms around her middle, pulling the hug even tighter. The blossoms at Ellere's feet had followed her, sprouting up wherever she stepped and expanding beyond. The sky shifted again.

"Locke!" She bellowed, but there was a change in her voice. Grinding and metallic. 

"--No." Ruran's voice held resolve. He turned his head to look toward the woman, still keeping hold of Ellere. "I will not go. I want to stay." This was the first time Ellere had heard him utter those words aloud. He wanted to stay.

The woman's teeth grit together. At her joints, the woman's skin began to separate into clean lines, exposing metal beneath. A mammet. The image in the portal disappeared, reverting back to a disc of white light. "Then I will take you!"

Ellere's breath caught, a stuttering sound against the fabric at his shoulder. He wanted to stay. She remembered what she had swore to Ari'doram. If he wished to stay, then she would do everything, and anything, to keep him from the fate he believed he had.  Pulling back, she looked to what the woman had become, and then down at the scepter.

She did not know what it was, but she could feel the power in it. "I will not let you," she spoke low at first, then repeated it again louder and looking to the woman. It was silly perhaps, praying to some power resting in a scepter that was not hers. But she asked it a simple request, please, help me protect him.

The mammet's limbs elongated and rose taller, and its face twisted and parted in various places, exposing gears beneath. It sprinted forward on all fours and lunged. Ruran readied himself to take any blows to protect Ellere, keeping himself between them. The look in his eyes held determination.

The scepter thrummed in Ellere's hands. "I hear thy prayers." A chorus of Ari'doram's voices came from all around them. That same fuzzy feeling spread up her arm as when she touched Ruran's hand during the final stone. In a burst, golden aether spread outward, forming a magical dome around them that she was quite familiar with casting. Every ilm of ground within the barrier sprang up with vibrant blue blossoms. The barrier would remain up even as Ellere's attention would focus elsewhere.

The mammet crashed into the barrier with a surprised screech, then began to claw desperately at it. "Return to us!" it repeated, over and over. Ruran looked at Ellere in surprise and awe.

As the mammet lunged, Ellere was halfway into trying to conjure a barrier of her own. But she had no idea if magic could be called here. She had not her globe, nothing on her person. It was not needed. She heard the familiar voices, felt the power, and then they were protected.

She looked back to Ruran, equally as surprised, but also with a hard look of determination in her eyes. "I never gave up hope," she finally said. "Even now, in this place that may not be real, knowing you want to stay.... it was what I needed to hear. I swore I would fight for you. I have to believe all this means something."

The word 'hope' ignited something in the sky. The blue star burst, growing brighter than the sun beside it.

"It must," Ruran agreed, his gaze locked on hers. "This...cannot be the end. Let it not be." He placed his hands on the one which she held the scepter. The dome began to expand, and the mammet let out another shriek as the aether began to eat away at its form. The barrier shot out at all sides, the flowers following after it and filling the space, until all the ruins were gone. All the sand was gone.

They were standing in a field of blue flowers that stretched endlessly to all sides, with a clear sky ahead, and the star shining bright. The shifting in the sky that had been present began to condense, shifting into a massive humanoid shape suspended in the sky.

Details emerged—a large sword and shield in its hands, and a ring of five masks slowly rotated around a glowing, featureless head. The being was adorned in plated armor, ancient and divine, and two pairs of long semi-translucent wings stretched over the sky like a barrier unto itself. 

"Thou hast kept thine oath." Ari'doram appeared to be addressing Ellere.

Ellere looked to the endless field of flowers. It was beautiful. When she looked up  to the sky, and saw the star, her eyes stung. A flurry of emotions that she could barely hold back. The swirling form drew her attention from the star, and her lips parted in awe. 

Whatever she had expected of the being that resided in the soulstone, it could not compare. "Ari'doram," she let the name out on a breath. Ellere looked to Ruran, their hands together over the scepter. "Thank you."

Ruran followed her gaze from the star to Ari'doram, and his eyes widened. He was struck speechless by the entity's form, its presence so familiar yet the appearance far more than anything he had expected. "What does...this all mean?" Ruran between Ellere and Ari'doram, his fate still uncertain.

Ari'doram dipped its head to Ellere, then turned its attention toward Ruran. "Thy duties yet continueth."

Ruran tilted his masked face, and then his brows rose as if some sort of silent agreement had been realized. The edges around everything began to fade, each petal of every blossom parting into a myriad speckles of light. Whatever this place was, it would be gone soon. He looked back to Ellere, one hand leaving the scepter to touch the side of her face. 

"Find me," Ruran instructed with newfound understanding.

"In the place where thine oath was made," Ari'doram finished.

Flecks of light danced on the edges of her vision. The flowers in the distance scattering away. Her mind was feeling distant again, as she remembered when Ruran had first disappeared in that flash of light. Whatever blessing she had been given was ending. But it no longer felt final as it had before.

"I will," she promised him, a hand covering his. "And I will not tell you goodbye. Not now. And not ever, Twelve willing." Her hand left his, reaching up and carding fingers through his hair and tucking some behind his ear.

"I will see you soon, dear," and as the flickering lights came closer, she leaned in and placed a soft touch of her lips over his polished mask.

A soft smile shone in his eyes, and he reached to hug her again, tight. Ari'doram had faded into the light, and soon everything else did too, with the two of them being the last.

[a-memory-of]

The Final Stone, pt. II

The long tunnel extended for some time, overgrown by vines and large roots crushing through broken gaps in the walls. Ruran’s soulstone offered some light in the dark, and traces of a tar-like substance can seen clinging to the sides. It grew thicker the further they walked.

"This is like before... with the ninth stone." Nathaniel Salem invoked a small, fey light; about as bright as a dim torch. "The joys of facing an enemy we are, at the very least, familiar with. Let us use this to our advantage, yes?"

"Do not touch it," Ruran Vas reminded Ellere, keeping his pace--perhaps a little quicker as they grew nearer to their final destination. Nathaniel's light would illuminate more of the tunnel, exposing more of the ooze in the crevices.

Ellere Valahan frowned. She certainly did not recall him being there to help.

The tunnel eventually opened into a wide room. Inside, the blackish tar-like substance has smothered the wall, climbing high toward the ceiling and covering much of what can be seen. High above, a pinpoint of sunlight pours through an open hole in the ceiling and onto an ooze-covered statue. At its chest, a faint glimmer of dying golden light can be seen.

"There," Ruran sayid, pointing toward the statue. He went rigid, and his gaze fixated on it. "The final piece is--there...Taken from its holy place, abandoned, forgotten..."

Nathaniel circled the two, taking the surroundings into account first and foremost. "...Resentful."

The black ooze seems to stir at their presence, or it could be a trick of the light.

"Aetherial artifacts of such a potency are bound to attract unwanted attention." Nathaniel looked up, irises golden under the helmet.

Ellere looked around, almost as if looking for something. She regretfully released Ruran's hand if only to ready to be ready to cast as needed, aether licking at her finger tips and another above the collapsed star globe at her back. "It formed beasts before, deep under Qarn."

"It will do so again, given the chance. How do you both want to go about it?" Albeit nonchalant in tone, the priest’s body language suggested utmost attention.

Ruran took a step forward, as if compelled. The strange substance abruptly skittered away from beneath his feet, repelled or repulsed, or both. "At long last," he murmured under his breath, another soft voice laced in it.

True to its aforementioned nature, the ooze begins to writhe and build into a loose shape. Ruran seems oblivious, looking only forward at the statue.

"It dissipated once Ruran took hold of the stone, it was all I could do to form a barrier long enough," she looked to Ruran as he moved, expecting the same trance-like state as before. "Unless you mean to fight it, I can attempt to do the same as then.".

Taking notice of the change in tension, Nathaniel moves forward, strides greater than before, "Walk him to his quarry, make sure nothing touches him, and you. He is likely to be enthralled by the reunion. I'll do what a voidhunter does best in the meantime."

Ellere looked to Nathaniel a long moment, then gave a nod. At least this, the two could agree enough on. She moved back to Ruran's side, fully withdrawing her starglobe and calling forth a dome-shaped aetherical shield. She doubted Ruran could hear her, but she offered a quiet, "Do what you need to, dear. We are right here."

Nathaniel turned away from them, speckles of aetherial levin coursing through his left arm, as he flexed fingers in preparation. "Do not disappoint me, Ru’ranvas."

_____________________________

With @weepingknight​ & @will-of-the-traders​

As the two deliberated, Ruran took another step, then another, each one causing the shadows to flee from him. A slight golden aura began to form around him, and he murmured under his breath in words unknown.

When the knight drew near the statue in the center, the dark substance trembled and molded itself into two large beasts. They appeared to be an amalgamation of several jungle creatures, forming the head of a couerl, the body of a bear, tail of a snake, and wings of a bird. A garbling screech emanates from both of them.

The priest started casting immediately, at that. As he did, something about him changed; for the aetherially inclined, it felt as Ruran's stone might have, in nature. Nathaniel was a crystal bearer. But his heart was one of hunger, or destruction. It gnawed at the void, eager to devour, or destroy. He started with a warning. Levin bolts, from the sky, after a wide arc was drawn with his staff. To keep the beasts at bay, draw their attention. Not unlike the whiplash of a ringmaster.

Ellere kept her focus first and foremost on keeping the arching shield over Ruran. She herself moved closer to him, staying under the barrier. Every so often her gaze flicked to the mage, but she would wait until the creature's made their own move.

Ruran remained transfixed on the statue, and he extended his hand forward. The shadows scattered, exposing the golden stone heart embedded in the statue's chest. Before he commits, however, Ruran hesitated. He looked over his shoulder toward Nathaniel and Ellere. The knight's eyes soon flash, and the aether from the statue begins to rejoin with Ari'doram.

The glooping creatures rear back, away from the lightning, snapping their jaws and flapping wings in anger and hunger. One moves to the opposite side of the room, to gain another vantage point in a sort of pincer, and it lashes toward Ellere. The other, despite the lightning, did its best to snap at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel commanded; the words spoken might have been heard in old Belah'dia, in old Sil'dih, in old Ul'dah. Surprisingly, he would deny passage to the beast, closest to Ruran and Ellere first and foremost. Umbral winds drifted towards it, icy stalagmites of an impressive size looking to halt and maim. This left him exposed to the second beast closest to him, however, and he braced himself for impact to the best of his ability. Impossible to dodge and cast at the same time.

Meeting Ruran's eyes in that small, final moment, she understood. Ellere allowed herself only a moment to let her eyes close and take a deep breath.  A single word was said under her breath. She opened her eyes and saw the one closest to her had been buffeted by a wall of ice. Realizing what it meant, she turned on her heel and forced a 'wall' of her own at the other beast, pushing a force against the ooze in a single burst back toward the other side of the chamber.

The icicles slammed into the creature, crushing it beneath the weight and causing its form to splatter and lose its shape. The cold had caused it to grow sluggish as it attempts to rebuild itself, stalled for the moment.

Meanwhile, the other monster lunged forward, only to be met with a sudden wall and pushed safely away from Nathaniel. The ooze slips this way and that, trying to get around and reform.

In the back, a third shape has silently taken form. A panther, smaller and sneakier, pouncing toward Ellere with claws extended. Before it can reach her, a burst of light pulsed from Ruran's soulstone--an overflow of aether that it could not contain. The shadows shriek as some of the ooze is burnt away from its body, and the smaller creature recoils and sinks down into the earth again.

The statue's small stone has dimmed. The union seems to be nearly complete. Nathaniel does not let the surprise halt him; Ellere's assistance is beyond welcome and he is eager to take full advantage of it. His alignment shifted, and as one has breathed in, one most breathe out. Aetherial currents turn astral, in nearly a blink, and fire is conjured, with strength. A magicked circle beneath the beast flashed, and within seconds, a pillar of flames erupts from it, to consume, to burn, until there's nothing left. Red at first, it turns blue, as Nathaniel maintains it.

It is enough to light the room. He will have none of this. Not here.

Ellere tucked her head to the side, the unexpected blast of light taking out a threat even before she was aware of it. She did not dare risk looking back to Ruran, not yet. Instead she let Nathaniel once more take over the distant ooze. With one hand extended, she held the sluggish one down with a heavy gravitational force, not letting it take a new shape. The other hand still held her globe high, maintaining the shield around Ruran.

The flames eat away at the ooze, causing the creature to writhe and let out a wet rumbling shriek, until it is gone. Any of the tar on the immediate walls and ceiling are gone as well. The light of his flames cause the rest of the room to tremble.

Ellere's force pinned the other enemy down, and although it struggled, it cannot build high enough or spread fast enough to take another shape. It squirmed in protest.

Then, the last of the aether left the statue and swirled into Ari'doram. Ruran stood quietly for a long moment. He swayed a bit, his soulstone shining brightly, then looked down at his hand. He flexes his fingers, as if studying the movement. The holy light that had encompassed him glows brighter, filling every corner of the room, adding to Nathaniel's. All around, the shadows writhe in pain and begin to evaporate.

The walls and ceiling are revealed beneath, and the details of the statue in the center can be seen, Belah'dian runes carved along its surface. Soon, the shadows are gone, and the room is quiet. Ruran remains facing away from them.

Having broken the tether, Nathaniel stands up straight once more, chest heaving with every breath for a time. Sensing threats contained, his mask vaguely turn towards the statue, and the herald.

Knowing what the light meant, and the surge of aether, Ellere let her barriers drop. She was breathing heavy, though it was the only sign of strain she let slip. She looked back toward Ruran, watching him sway. Her globe was folded away and her hands hovered in case he collapsed. "Ruran?"

The sound of Nathaniel's staff being tapped twice on the ground echoed, and at that, glamours suppress any aetherial evidence of his own soul stone. He observes the both of them, perfectly still. The man reaches him to remove mask and hood, reverent. Beneath, a face as impassible as the rest.

At Ellere's voice, the knight looks slightly over his shoulder. His eyes burn like twin suns behind his mask. With explanation or declaration, he begins to rise upwards, the ends of his hair glowing and lifting aloft. A wave of power washes through the room, one that commands awe and could instill fear.

"An oath kept...by a faithful heart…" The words spoken with the many voices of Ari'doram. More words follow, although they are quiet and in a tongue few could understand.

Without taking his eyes off Ruran, as gentle as he can possibly be, authority in the tone, he said, "Miss Ellere. Step aside."

Despite perhaps knowing better, Ellere's hesitant hand made to reach for his, for perhaps the last time. "Ari'doram...." she breathed, a ghost of the name.  She seemed torn, tired. She knew what Nathaniel wanted her to do. Still. "And what of ours...?"

Nathaniel readied his staff, golden irises emitting a faint, eerie light, as he prepares himself to cast, should she refuse him once more. "Miss Ellere." He asked again. The tone made it clear it is the last time he will.

Energy pulsed off his hand in reaction to Ellere's touch, causing a fuzzy feeling to rush up Ellere's arm. It isn't painful, just...strange. Powerful. His hand doesn't move in response. His masked face looks upward toward the sunlight coming through the hole in the ceiling. Several voices speak, but they all say something different. A cacophony of words, old and new.

"As sworn of mine oath to thee, thy trial cometh."

Nathaniel's attention snapped back to Ruran at that, and his eyes look through his form in realization. He frowned gradually, deeply.

Ellere only glanced to Nathaniel, making no move to step away yet. She remembered this feeling. Different and yet almost the same. Ari'doram had touched her mind before. "Trial?" a question, confused and soft. "I..." She dropped her hand away, sign enough she would not interfere.

Ruran’s body began to rise higher, more of him being enveloped in golden light. There was an energy in the air akin to a spell being cast, the aether stirring around him. In a sudden burst, a flood of light filled the room. When it faded, Ruran is gone. 

Nathaniel and Ellere both began to feel light-headed...

[a-memory-of]

The Final Stone, pt. I

Ruran Vas rested on the stone ridge, staring vacantly while waiting for the ferryman to finish preparations. He holds a wooden block and a carving knife together in one hand, but he doesn't seem keen on using it. Ellere Valahan moved back toward Ruran, after speaking with the ship captain. She sighed heavily, looking him over. "Everything is almost set, dear. Are you ready to go?"

Ruran turned his head, but their eyes did not meet. He takes a breath himself and gives a small nod. "As I will ever be," he murmured.

She reached out, running a hand over his armored forearm. The motion was more a comfort for herself than anything, knowing between all the layers and his clouded mind he would barely feel it.

"Ru'ranvas. Who is this?" An armored, and robed figure didn't approach the party; nor greeted them proper, for the matter.

Ruran shifted his attention to the gesture at his arm, but as expected, he did not react beyond that. The call of his name, however, causes his head to turn away toward the armored figure. "...Ellere," he said after a thoughtful pause. "A healer, a friend."

Nathaniel Salem remained perfectly statuesque, the helmet just barely leaving Ellere's profile, to find Ruran's figure. "Then, bid farewell, and let us be on our way. Time is of the essence."

Ellere put her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes. "The mentor, I presume. A pleasure," she looked him over, then shook her head. "And I am afraid I am not going anywhere but with him."

"Sh-she wishes to--I want her to..." Thoughts did not seem capable of leaving him in a coherent manner.

Nathaniel snapped his helmet to Ruran as he chimed in, cold. Though there's little physical attitude to speak of, the impassible tone, even, denoted irritation.  "If you know my title and place in his esteem, you should also trust my thoughts. I expected resistance from his entourage, but the man is to face his trials alone." He studied Ellere through his helmet, an eerie, golden glint easily caught under there. "He is better off without distractions."

Ellere's hands were still firmly on her hips, and she clicked her tongue, "His friend," she corrected. "And quite honestly, I do not know you, as you do not know me. All I know, is he wishes for me to be here, and so I shall."

Nathaniel took steady steps in Ellere's direction soon after that, head high. Armored heels click heavily on the sandstone. When he stopped, the end of his staff hits the floor, and he keeps it firmly in hand, grip tightening. The thaumaturge turned to Ruran.

"...I thought our last discussion would have some lasting impact. Did my words hold so little value?" He turned back to Ellere, to finally address her proper, "To fulfill a dying man’s wish is commendable."

"I did as you asked," Ruran tried to defend. "She refused, and...I--...if these are to be my last moments, then...."

Nathaniel seemed to take Ruran's words into account, leaning back, ever so slightly. "...Then pray not interrupt. The will of the Twelve is at play here."

Ellere took a step forward, in return, rather determined. Behind them there was a whistle as the ship captain signaled for them to board, but she did not pay it mind other than a slight raise of her own hand. "Worry not about me, ser. I know full well the gravity."

The soulstone at Ruran's chest flickered, and as the bell rings out, the knight does not say anything more. He looks down and wrings a block of wood and carving knife in his hands.

"...No doubt. But knowing is not enough; you know enough to be driven to panic. That is why you're here, isn't it? Friendship. I bear no ill feelings towards a woman who would remain at their friend's side. But I will oppose myself to any man who would prevent my protégés to make their own decisions, even if it endangers them. I hope you like being uncomfortably close to strangers, Miss Ellere, was it?" He looked to Ruran. "I believe you spoke her name before you promised we would end this alone. Let's move."

"Then we are of the same mind, in some regard. I am here to support Ruran's choice, and no one else’s," she shook her head. Turning to Ruran first, and then back toward the ship, "Do not presume to know of my reasons otherwise. Ready, dear?" The last was directed once more to Ruran.

Nathaniel rested his staff vertically, end firmly planted on the ground. He waited for Ruran's answer.

The ship's bell rang again. "Y-yes, we are ready..." Ruran nodded and turned toward the boarding area. He managed to offer Ellere and Nathaniel each a small, apologetic look, should they glance his way again. Mostly, however, he kept his distant eyes on the ground.

_____________________________

With @weepingknight​ & @will-of-the-traders​

[a-memory-of]

After leaving that morning once she had made sure Ruran at least had a bite of breakfast, Ellere Valahan had promised to return later that evening with the balm she had spoke of. It was just getting dark by the time a knock came at his door before she tested the handle.

The door opened easily; the once overly secretive knight had become more absent-minded as the days went on. The aether remained thick in the air. It was good she had gotten away for several bells, else she would have been at risk for headaches and minor aethersickness. Ruran Vas was not in the front room, and there was some soft noise coming from his bedroom.

Ellere frowned at the unlocked door, remember how he once kept it so firmly locked and warded. But she slipped in quietly, shutting (and locking) it behind her. The aether was palpable, and she was already worried. "Ruran dear?" she called out, before the sound drew her to his bedroom door. She tapped her knuckles gently on the wooden frame, "I'm back."

"I am in here," came a voice muffled behind the door, answering with a rather obvious statement to a question that had not been asked. Should she open the door, she would find Ruran standing in front of his desk. Wood shavings littered across the counter-top and down at his feet. A small statuette of Azeyma had been carved--a woman holding a fan and a balance, or at least the rough approximation of one--and stood on the counter top near Ruran. He was already starting on another carving, this block of wood still fairly fresh. He quietly murmured to himself.

Ellere opened the door, smiling that at least he seemed engaged in something, rather than alone and silent on his bed. "Look at you," she praised, eyes finding his little project. "She looks radiant." As she moved closer, one hand rose up and settled on his back, the other dug in her bag for a small jar. "I brought you the balm. And I have a bit of good news, if you'd like to hear." Ruran hardly looked away as she entered, but he seemed aware of her presence. "It does not do Her justice," he mumbled, turning his hand to continue carving a curve. His back was still quite warm, to be expected. At her touch, his focus seemed to finally pull away, and he looked toward her bag. "Good news..?" "Mm," she nodded, setting the jar on his table. But she also drew out an envelope. There was no lettering on the front though there was a wax seal on the back that had already been broken. Ellere passed it to him, and if he looked closer he might note the stamp was a swordfish. "I called in that favor I spoke of as well. 'Tis why I was a bit later coming today." "Favor..." He was hesitant to put down his carving knife and wooden block, but he did and retrieved the envelope. Part of him had already forgotten what the favor was, but the stamp of the fish seemed to stir something in him. He opened it up to see what was inside.

Inside was what appeared to be a simple contract, stamped with the same swordfish insignia as the wax seal on the outside. At a glance, he could likely figure what it was. It spoke of paid passage for an Ellere Valahan, and guest, to the Pearl Isles. It listed the ship name, pier number, and was signed by a man by the name of Eddard Crowther. 

"Some time ago I tended his son in my clinic, he had an accident and nearly lost his leg. Eddard was quite adamant in paying me far more gil than needed, which I declined. However... well. I did remember he has a fine ship, a merchant vessel, and he is a man that will not ask questions of you."

Ruran read the paper over carefully. Twice, since he was certain he had lost focus a time or two along the way the first time. The stone at his chest flickered, a rather rare thing despite the circumstances. He was quiet for a long moment. "This is...very generous," he began, his words slow as he worked his way through them. "I...have been thinking, perhaps you..." His words trailed off as he stared down at the ticket.

“Hm?” she blinked, looking up to him as he trailed off. It was not the reaction she expected, though, the way he was now, she was not certain what she really did expect. Ellere continued after a moment, giving him time to perhaps find the words he wanted to say. “He will be in port for the next sennight, though I did say we would likely not need so much time to prepare. So,” she paused, leaning forward a bit to offer him a smile. 

“You need but say the words, dear, and we’ll be on our way.”

"You are in danger, Ellere," he said softly, keeping his eyes down. "Around me, as I am. Surely you have felt it." His brows furrowed behind the mask, his eyes still occasionally shimmering with gold. "You should...--you should stay. I am capable of doing this." By myself, he didn't say.

Her smile slipped, and her brows furrowed in confusion. Then she shook her head, “Absolutely not. Do not talk nonsense, Ruran. Capable or not, why should you do this alone? How many times must I say that we walk this path together.”

Ruran's free hand reached up and rubbed at his head. He barely knew how to think, let alone how to explain, or how to convince her. "Please trust me." His voice held a frown, and his shoulders fell. "You must...stay away from me." The words didn't feel right, but there they were.

____________________________

With @weepingknight​

“Ruran,” she shook her head again, taking a step forward and trying to guide his shoulders to face her. Her hands squeezed, almost desperately, for a moment. “Ruran, what has gotten into you? I am not going with you because I do not trust you. You are not going to hurt me, and I can take care of myself.” Ruran turned with her hands, still avoiding eye contact, though that was not difficult to do with how his gaze was prone to become distant. "Please... I-I can do this. Cradled--I do not need to be...cradled." He didn't seem to have much more to say, his position weak from the start, and the purpose behind them still unknown.

“I am not cradling you,” Ellere was firm, but her voice still held no hint of anger. “I do not mean to. I know you can do this. I do. Ruran, I believe in you more than you know.” Her hands were still held tight to his shoulders, and she dropped her eyes a moment. “You are strong and brave. But… I’m not.” She paused again, eyes still down.

“I cannot- I cannot watch someone else walk away. I cannot watch someone… die without being there, not knowing I did everything in my power. That there was no other way. Please, Ruran… just let me stay with you a little longer.” Ruran's head tilted in a way that suggested he would speak, but he didn't. He swallowed thickly and looked down. "I...I want you to be there--I do..." His feet fidgeted, and he began to mutter. The soft words hid behind the mask, but grew audible the more he spoke. "--what is easy, what is right. How am I to know..? Everything is more than I thought. Nothing is easy, and now he will be cross with me--with her, and I don't know what to do..." 

He was talking to himself perhaps, or Ari'doram, or one of the hundred other voices in his head.

Ellere looked up at that, brows furrowing again as she caught bits and pieces of one side of a conversation.  Knowing he wanted her there was enough, whatever else they could work through. Her hands dropped from his shoulders to find his hands instead. “Who will be cross with you?” He had never referred to Ari’doram as such, which despite everything was her first guess. “Is someone telling you to go alone?”

Ruran looked up, nearly forgetting where he was. The stone flickered. His head shook. "N-no, not alone... ...My mentor," he answered reluctantly. "He has been teaching me--meditations, ways to keep myself from slipping away..." His gaze moved to the wood whittling tools for a moment.

Frowning, Ellere shook her head slightly. He had never spoken of a mentor before, nor did it fully explain why he had said what he had. "That is all well and good. But this mentor is the one who said I should stay behind? And who will be cross with you if I do not?"

He nodded once, his calloused fingers idly reaching to touch the half-whittled block in front of him. "Yes. He...knows much more than I. About Azeyma, Qarn, perhaps...even about Ari'doram." His brows furrowed, committing more now to divulging more information. "He told me to let none come with us, and he was...quite insistent."

"Ruran," she reached for his hands again, gently covering his as it touched the wood. "I made a promise to you, that I would be there. That I would see this through with you. If you wish for me to be there," she gave a small squeeze, looking down before trying to find his eyes again. 

"Or anyone else, for that matter. No one should tell you no. This mentor of yours is welcome to come with us. But he should not be standing in your way. Pardon, but I don't much care if he thinks he knows better. If he grows cross, you let me handle it."

Ruran turned his attention toward her, studying the determination in her eyes. His head gave small nods, but a glance toward the floor indicated he didn't seem entirely convinced. "I do not wish for either of you to argue. I told him I would try to convince you...and I did try." His feet fidgeted, and he pinched at the contract in his other hand. "I am grateful for you, Ellere. I pray I do not cause more trouble in all this."

One hand moved up from his and tucked under his chin instead. "Eyes forward, dear. Not on the floor," Ellere reminded him gently. "Remember we must face this with no regrets. Azeyma Herself would have a hard time convincing me my place is not right here, with you. Do not worry so."

Ruran allowed his head to be guided back up, and he met her gaze. A glimmer of gold circled around his irises, but it disappeared without any affect on his demeanor. "You know it is impossible for me not to worry." A frown pulls down his tone.

"As it is with me," she smiled, dropping her hand slowly from his chin and toward her own. Two fingers touched her lips, the beginning of an old gesture that she had not done in some time. Those fingers moved up, touching his mask, "But that is why we also have hope."

[a-memory-of]

“Ari’doram is not like other soulstones.” Ruran Vas’s tone was soft but matter-of-fact, and the stone flickered. He reached up to clutch it. “...but that does seem to be true. We remember so much, but there is still something missing... If I could just...”

Whatever he was thinking, it was pulling him back under. "Well, yes, I know it is not quite like other soulstones," Ellere Valahan nodded, raising her hands up a bit as if to show she certainly had not meant offense. "Just that it is perhaps a similarity... a reason you are overwhelmed by the thoughts of memories that are not yours."

She caught the way he was starting to drift off, and sighed. Once the tea was done, she carried it over to the couch and sat down once more. Ellere did not force it, but she set the warm mug where he could reach it, and leaned back with her own.

"Has it always been this way? I... do not ever recall you implying that Ari'doram was merely a part until now," she looked down to her tea, thinking. "And you've... never spoken as if you yourself were included." The shift of Ellere against the couch brought his mind back above the surface. He did not move to take the tea yet, instead staring down at his calloused hands. "I feel I am barely my own person... Ari'doram wishes for me to remain separate until the end, but how..? Why? Is this not what was meant to happen..?" The stone flickered at his chest, unhelpful.

His head shook again, and he took a breath. His words were careful and slow, as though they might slip away if he spoke too quickly. "Ari'doram is...confused--overwhelmed, just the same as I. We had tried to learn its origins, but Ari'doram could not remember, and we could find nothing in the temple..." His eyes shut for a moment. "...The stone we found...started something. Like a dam, its memories...crashed upon us all at once."

His fingers curled and his head bowed. "I apologize--I am...likely not making sense. I hardly understand, myself..." Ellere looked down at the stone around his neck. She still wanted to fervently believe it when they had spoke that last time. It was all she could do.

"I am certain Ari'doram has its reasons," Ellere said after a moment of quiet. As his head bowed, her own reached up and tucked loose locks behind an ear. "And what would an oath be, if you no longer remembered the you that made it." Her fingers drew through his hair a few more times, then she sighed.

It was true, she likely would never understand fully what he felt like. But she could sympathize. "Here," she said, taking the box from him and replacing it with the mug of tea. "Drink some tea, and then we can have a look at your back. 'Tis no use dwelling on all this now, hm? As you say you... need the last. So we shall focus on getting you strong enough to travel, and I shall pull some favors for a ship to the Pearl Isles, all right?" A ship to the isles. He nodded at that, swallowing thickly before reaching for his mask. He removed it for now and set it on his knee. The blank wooden face stared up toward the ceiling. Carefully, he tipped the mug to his lips and took a long sip.

A small spark flit across his weary eyes, and they closed. The tea tasted like home. Like cool nights by warm fires and quiet mornings in soft beds. “It tastes very good,” he murmured, his voice unhindered by the lack of mask. Ellere gave a small, amused chuckle. "I suppose if I can do one thing right, it is brewing tea," she watched him then drew her eyes down to the mask but they did not linger there. His face, even now, was such a rare thing. It was such a shame to be hidden away as it was. Yes, he could stand to eat more, and sleep more, that much was apparent at first glance. But there was so much of him in his eyes, no longer hidden behind shadows of a mask.

"'Tis just a bit of chamomile and honey," Ellere continued, sipping it herself. "Sometimes however, it is the simpler things that calm us the most." “I used to drink this,” he mumbled, his eyes distant and thoughtful, “atop the roofs of Ul’dah, watching the sunset. That was...years ago. I could rarely see the sun over the other buildings, but the colors...”

He spent a moment silently reminiscing. His thin fingers wrapped around the mug. A haze of gold spun over his heavy-lidded eyes. “Now all I see is the sun...” She hadn't expected the admittance. But it brought a warmth back into her eyes that worry had hidden for so long. It was laced with a heavy sadness in the way he spoke, yet words like that were real, when the passed few suns had been such a struggle. Ellere hushed him, "Oh, Ruran... that's not true. You looked upon the sky and gave a star a name, did you not?"

Shifting slightly, she took her hand and tucked it under his chin, cupping the opposite cheek in a gesture meant to turn him to her. Ellere met his eyes, swirling with gold even as they were. Her head tilted slightly, and she smiled, "And you see still see me, don't you?"

Ruran met her eyes in return, green even through his haze. A strange sense of peace washed over him. He had no room or time left to mourn his own fate. His expression softened, and he lifted one hand to rest over hers, on his cheek.

“I still see you,” he quietly affirmed. He did not smile, but he seemed a hair’s breadth away from it. ___________________

With @weepingknight​

Ellere held his gaze a moment more. There was a passing hesitation, the briefest flicker of her gaze to the side. Whatever she was thinking, she seemed to change her mind. Yet she still used their hands, joined as they were, as she stood. With his hand held between them, she set her mug aside and once again focused on Ruran.

"Ser Lightheart," she said with a smile. "I knew we would meet again, did I not say?" She was calling a distant memory, but she truly only wished for his eyes to stay the way they were, like this, almost happy.

She was still half bent, holding his hand in a gesture that was as much a question as her words were. "Shall we honor the occasion with a dance, once more?" “A dance...” The light in his eyes flickered, remembering. Memories of ancient festivities tried to engulf him, but the masquerade was his own. The newest, and the strongest.

“Of course.” He did not have it in him to play a role—although Ser Lightheart had never been too far from his own personality. He set aside his mug and pushed himself up to join her. His thin form and loose clothes were hardly knightly or noble, and his apartment was a far cry from a ballroom. But it didn’t matter; the moment was no less precious. She did not seem to mind his clothes, or the setting, as she tugged him gently away from the couch and into a more open area of the small apartment. Ellere set the pace, slow, and guiding one of his hands down to her hip. It was far from the excited, spur of the moment improvised dance she had stolen in the cabin. But it was also not quite so formal as anything had been at the masquerade and gala.

Her hand was on his shoulder, and the other still linked with his own. There was no music, but it did not matter. Ellere could make her own. A soft hum, familiar perhaps to the tune she had hummed to him a few times when he was ill or after a nightmare, filled the silence of the small room as they swayed.

Ruran recognized the tune. It often visited him on the edge of sleep—a melody that soothed him. He swayed, his hand at her hip where she had guided. His tired head sagged down, closer to her own, with the soulstone radiating between them.

He seemed serene. This was more than he had expected. For as long as her song continued, he would move with her, and perhaps even after she had finished. Ellere lost track of time. It was always such an easy thing to do during moments like these. A slight motion of her head let hers rest against his as it fell. And they supported one another like that as they continued the dance. It was moments like these she could pretend everything was different. Moments where her mind wandered.

Had she not been close enough to feel the warmth of the stone around his neck, she could almost fool herself into believing this was all much simpler. Eventually though, Ellere quieted her song but kept the gentle sway a moment more. They drifted to a stop slowly, and she looked up to his tired face.

She almost leaned in, but caught herself with a slight smile, "...Forgive me." Ruran studied her eyes, her lips, and part of him wished she had leaned in. It was a feeling that had been growing for moons, nurtured by their years spent together, hands intertwined. If she moved in just an ilm closer...

The light flickered in the stone and in his eyes, and the ancient past and fateful present returned him to reality. His mouth formed a thin line, half a grimace on his weary features. He gently shook his head. “It is I who should be pleading for your forgiveness...” "We have spoken of this before," Ellere answered him, voice quiet with how close they still lingered. "You owe me nothing, most especially apologies." She was smiling, but in that distant way when her thoughts troubled her. The hand that had been on his shoulder through the dance rose up and cupped around his cheek.

"Yet here I am, indulging in selfishness. Too much," Ellere looked at him, resting in his gaze for as long as she dared. Her thumb drew across skin once, then twice. After another moment that felt far too short and far too long all at once, Ellere did lean in but her lips met the cheek opposite her hand.

It was enough, and yet she knew more than likely too much as it was. Pulling back, Ellere dropped her hand and rubbed at his arm. "We should have a look at your back. And then get you to bed." Ruran’s brows furrowed at her claims, a refusal parting his mouth, but no words forming. It was not selfish. It was not too much. But he knew he could not argue; his strength was already slipping. Too soon.

His head gently tilted toward her as he felt her lips touch his cheek. She had never been so close. But he only had a moment to dwell on it before she pulled away.

His shoulders fell a bit, and he nodded. “Y-yes,” was all he mumbled before taking a step back toward the couch. His current situation began to sink back in, the serenity of the dance being shifted away by voices creeping on the edge of his mind. His hands fumbled with his shirt as he sat himself down. Ellere lingered where she was a moment, before taking a breath and following him back toward the couch. It had been a nice distraction, she supposed. Enough to bring him out of that haze for but a short time. And it was a memory she could hold dear, no matter what came.

She waited for him to remove his shirt, scooting closer only once it was off so that she could get a proper look at his scars. It had been some time since she had seen them fully, a peek here or there as she was tending other injuries. But they had not been an issue since that night so long ago where she had to strengthen them. Ruran pulled the tunic over his head and held it in a wad on his lap as he leaned forward. By then, the distance had returned to his eyes. His thoughts wandered to the past behind and fate ahead.

His body was as thin as ever, his spine and ribs pronounced, and he had too many scars for someone who had always longed for peace. She would recognize most—if not all—of them. The runes on his back were glowing and warm, making it difficult to at first see anything out of the ordinary. Ruran, half in his haze, reached back to scratch at the skin behind his shoulder, and it was then that she would see.

The rune-marked skin was beginning to flake away, and beneath the scar?

Crystal. Golden and bright like the stone at his chest. Knowing this, she would soon find other patches where the scars had been scraped away by Ruran’s scritching and rubbing. More crystal. It seemed limited to the shape of the runes, not spreading to the unblemished parts of his back. Yet. The aether had concentrated into the runes too densely, and for too long. It always hurt. Seeing him the way he was. She did remember the scars, tending many of them herself. She remembered no matter how many meals she made or sent, he always looked starved. Each time Ellere wished she knew how, wished she had the power or some spell, to take it all away. But no matter what she did, this, she could not find a way to heal.

Gentle hands touched his back, over the glowing runes. She didn't need an aetherometer to see. They energy in them was palpable now, far more than it had ever been. Then her hands drew across something hard. And beneath the glow she could see it. An audible gasp slipped out.

Ellere had always prided herself on being strong for her patients. Most especially him. She had tried, she had tried. It was why she drew him into a dance when there were so many other things to do. Why she smiled, and told him to have hope. But something about this, as if the stone itself was already laying claim to his body, broke her.

She couldn't even find words, swallowing around a thickness in her throat. She was glad he was faced away, so as not to see her cry. Ellere could not heal this either. Her brain had already went through a hundred and one spells.

Her head fell against his back, forehead meeting the warmth of the markings. "I..." the simple sound was so hard to make. "Why..." it was word weighted as a question and not. It wasn't really clear who it was meant for: him, Ari'doram, Azeyma herself. Ruran did not quite know what was happening. He felt the itch—skin tightening across his back over the past moon or two, but had not seen the extent of it from his viewpoint. If Ari’doram knew, the entity did not say. Of course.

He felt her head fall on him, and the quiet word reached his ears.

“We have known for...a long time—that it would be this way...” Ruran’s head turned. He couldn’t see her face, but he wanted her to know that he was talking to her. “...Despite it, I am glad you are with me. You...never gave up on me. No matter how much I wished you to.” "I am never going to give up on you, Ruran Vas," it was said almost in a single breath, followed by a hitch and her body shook once against him in what might have been a sob. Even as Ellere lay pressed against his back as she did, eyes closed around tears as if it would make what she had seen disappear, she furiously denied it all.

After a long moment, one that probably felt longer than it was, Ellere regained enough of herself to pull her head back. One hand reached up and wiped under her glasses, the other lay over the runes again. "They're... turning to crystal," she began, thinking she should at least have the decency to tell him what had affected her so. "C-Concentrated aether."

[a-memory-of]

Ruran Vas had been confined to his apartment for a sun, having acquired his ninth stone with sudden overwhelming changes. Ellere had helped him, kept him fed, and made sure he was safe. When awake, for lack of better word, he would mutter to himself in the ancient tongue. The words that could be discerned were just as cryptic. His eyes gazed beyond reality, and his irises still flickered with golden light.

That particular morning, he spent it sitting up in bed and looking down at his thin hands. The sunlight stretched over his bed from the nearby window. With every waking day, he was growing a little more lucid, but always a breath away from zoning back out. Ellere Valahan had barely left the apartment since they had come the previous day. Getting Ruran here had been a worrying ordeal. And had Ruran not left his bird outside, she doubted she would have even succeeded in getting him out of the desert at all. The inn he had frequented had been closer, and with help from the proprietress there had settled him into a room where she had fallen asleep at his bedside, half hunched over the blankets.

The following afternoon, she had managed to connect with him enough that perhaps she could take him to his apartment. He did not seem aware at all, but he could walk, and he had enough sense, for a moment, to open his door.

It worried her, immensely. But she could find nothing wrong, there was nothing she could tend or heal. So, she settled into a routine of just caring for his well-being until he could tell her what he needed. She had food delivered so she did not have to leave his side. And had called her assistant to bring her some spare clothes.

That morning when she entered his room with breakfast, she had to pause. It was still such an ache to see him hunched like that, eyes lost elsewhere and mind in a place she could not reach. "Ruran dear," she called to him, letting him know she was there, even if it would not be heard. "I've breakfast for you." Ellere sat on the edge of his bed, setting the tray in her lap. It was simple, easy to eat, some oatmeal and fruit. Torrents of memories and emotions—both his and not—flooded Ruran’s mind, so much so that he could barely sort his own among them. He had once told her that he felt he had forgotten something...but now it seemed he remembered too much. A night’s rest had given him strength, and the stone around his neck was trying its best to contain what it could.

Ruran closed his eyes, listening, listening. He knew that voice.  Her name, her name...

“Ellere.” That was it. His soft voice was heavy with remembrance. His eyes opened again, still occasionally sparkling with golden light behind the shadows of his white mask.

Ellere Valahan, Ari’doram silently reminded and tried to pull those memories of her to the forefront. Healer of thy wounds, a trusted friend.

“Of course,” Ruran said to seemingly no one, and then to Ellere, softly, “You are alright..?” Ellere watched and waited, patient and quiet.  It was so strange; it was if she could see his mind working but his eyes stayed distant and lost. She did not expect to hear her name, it was the first he had said other than mumbled phrases in an old tongue she did not know.

His question brought out a tired, yet very relieved laugh. "Oh, Ruran... only you," she spoke lowly. "This is the first I've heard you say in two suns, and you ask me how I am." Reaching out, Ellere lay a hand over his arm and rubbed gently. "But if it eases you, I am perfectly well."

She did not know how long this moment of awareness would last, or even if it was already gone. But talking to him like he was there also kept her from fretting too badly. He was there. She knew. She had never seen him like this, but she had to believe it would not last.

Taking the chance that he was indeed still cognizant enough to reply to her, Ellere shifted focus from breakfast to something else. "How are you, dear...? Do you have any pain? Is there anything I can do?" Ruran looked down at her hand and slowly reached over and placed his hand on top. The more she talked, the easier it was to remain present. Knowing she was well did ease him.

Gently, his head shook. “No pain,” he murmured, “just...heavy. I feel so many thoughts, different yet—the same.” His eyes closed. “Difficult to think...”

The scars, hidden beneath his tunic, had been running hot since Qarn. It was to be expected, with the influx of new aether, but they still remained strong enough for the aether to not consume him, nor make him spark and twitch as they did moons ago.

Something she said belatedly dawned on him. “Two suns..? I must—... I am...wasting time lying here...” He shifted as though he was ready to bound out of bed and out the door, but he could only manage a few ilms, still on his bed. The stone gleamed at his attempt. The relief Ellere felt just hearing him talk again was almost overwhelming. The fact that he was not in pain, even more so. But she could quite obviously tell something had changed. Her eyes lingered on the stone around his neck a moment before she turned to gather the breakfast tray again, giving his arm one last squeeze under his hand.

"I am glad to know you're not--" the bed shifted, and she turned back to see him struggle in a vain attempt to get up. Ellere pursed her lips, leveling him with that look, "Ruran Vas. Don't you dare."

"As if I am about to let you wander off..." she clicked her tongue, setting the tray in his lap. "Until I know you are not about to black out on me, I shall insist you stay here." Ellere reached forward, fluffing some pillows behind him to give him a better position to eat.

There was little hesitation as she reached for his mask, gentle but just as insistent as her words had been. "The first you are to do is eat your breakfast, and then you are going to tell me what you saw in that room."

_____________________________

With @weepingknight, art by @locke-rinannis​

Ruran stopped, and he looked down at the tray. As the mask is removed, he does not object. A glimmer of light crossed his distant eyes, but a slow blink swept it away. Blonde hair hung over his gaunt, tired face.

He didn’t feel hungry; he didn’t feel much of anything yet. But he nodded obediently and reached for a piece of fruit to start. “We will try to remember...” He pushed a small piece into his mouth, and even though it felt strange and somehow detached from him, the taste helped to keep him grounded. Ellere watched him, still firm but also a little sad. She knew he disliked her fussing as she did, and she never wished to treat him like a child, but he was so stubborn. Setting his beloved mask aside, next to him and within reach, Ellere sat back as he began to pick at his food.

"We?" Ellere immediately caught the odd phrase. That was a first. Even when Ari'doram took hold it was one or the other. "Who is we...?" Ruran looked to the white mask. It was important. It represented so much. He picked up another piece of fruit, and Ellere’s question went several moments without response.

“A-Ari’doram and I—all of us,” he breathed, and he motioned to his chest, where the soulstone glimmered. A soft rush of ancient whispers swept through his mind, so many memories, chaotic and boundless. “I hear you,” he whispers to them, “I hear you...” His response quieted her, and she found no words for a while. Ellere studied his face, watching him speak to... something, someone she could not see. Her expression fell. How could she ever hope to understand, truly?

Ellere gave a long sigh, bowing her head. Blonde hair spilled over her shoulder as she did. She was tired, it was easy enough to see in her posture. When she finally spoke again, it was soft and confused and uncertain all at once. "I apologize," she brought her head back up, looking to him. "I just... you frightened me, Ruran. In that room, it was as if you no longer knew I was there... knew of anything else. We were attacked and yet I could not break through. And then you collapsed in my arms."

"I cannot hear what you do, or see what you do," Ellere continued, swallowing thickly and glancing away. "I... admit I feel I am at a loss on how to help you." Focus. Both Ruran and Ari'doram had the same wish; it was too easy to be swept away. Reality felt distant. He concentrated on the texture of the orange slice in his hand and the acidic sweetness on his tongue; it was real, not a memory. It was now, not an ancient past.

"I am still here," Ruran said to assure both himself and Ellere, turning his head toward her. "I remember...pieces of what happened. I felt the golem calling to me."

His eyes grew more distant—looking beyond her—for a moment, as if reflecting on the event was having the same effect. He blinked, gently pinched the orange, and continued. "I am learning...but Ari'doram is still incomplete. W-we need the final piece..." Ellere shifted, moving from where she sat near his knees to settle closer. She was near shoulder to shoulder now. And the closest arm wrapped about his back. She had no idea what he was feeling, but she knew it seemed far different than before. Words did not seem enough, she had none to offer anyway.

"I know," Ellere sighed, the final piece, the end ever-present on her mind as well. She let her forehead rest on his shoulder a moment, perhaps in selfishness. "And we will. You know that I will help you. But for now, you need rest. If the last resides in a guarded place as this one did, I... I cannot let you walk into that danger as you are." Feeling the weight on his shoulder, Ruran responded by letting his head lean against hers. Despite being bed-bound for a sun or two, he was still so tired...in many ways. An inkling of familiarity crept back to him.

“Rest... We will rest,” he agreed. The stone gleamed but remained silent. “—until the time has come.”

He abandoned the orange piece to place his hand over hers, the one that was wrapped around him. Although his eyes were distant, his words were genuine. “You ought to rest as well.” Taking a deep breath, Ellere felt her eyes close as she rested there against him. She did not like the way he was speaking, it was as if he was lost in his own body and Ellere hated being reminded of what all this meant. She had told him, not that long ago, that she believed everything would be fine. She had held on to the oath she had given Ari'doram, but she did not know if it would be kept.

"I have borrowed your couch," she finally said, though it was hard to hide how worn her voice was. "I will do so until you are well, do not fret about me, dear." Above all, Ruran believed that the final piece was paramount. Its necessity burned into his mind; if he could just make Ari’doram whole... However, something in Ellere’s voice stirred him. He wished he could pull free from the swarm of thoughts, if even for just a moment.

“But you sound tired,” was the best he could muster. “I can manage. Truly.” Ellere held him tighter for a moment, before letting out a long breath of defeat and pulling away. She shifted up, raising her arms and cupping each side of his maskless face. His eyes were distant still, even this close.

"If I go home to rest, do you promise me you will not leave yourself?" she asked, brows furrowed together. It was clear she was hesitant, worried. "I am always only a pearl away, and I can come by later to check on you and bring you some dinner." Ruran did his best to focus. His eyes flit and flickered with soft light as he tried to meet her gaze. She was so near, yet so far away. The touch to his face still felt like he was wearing a mask, a barrier between his skin and hers.

“I promise.” Despite his best attempts, he felt his thoughts slipping back. Another wave of memories washed over him, and he slumped a bit. “I will be here.” His head would dip down when she released him.

After a long pause, he spoke again. "...Do not...lose hope...” These words were different, heavier, and they echoed with another tone that indicated it was not purely coming from Ruran. She could feel him lean into her hands, a heavy weight taking him from her again and that ever-so distant look returning. He did not look any different than when she had first brought him here. Ellere frowned, knowing that when she left, it would be the same. Her thumbs gently traced under the white markings under his eyes, anything to keep her from pulling away just yet.

Slowly, Ellere let her hands fall away. She adjusted the pillow behind him to help his balance and ease his back. She removed the tray of forgotten breakfast, setting aside on the nearby table. It was doubtful he would make any more progress on it.

The four words that came after made her pause. And Ellere was caught between the motion to stand, and the want to stay. She looked to Ruran's face, then gently rested his mask in his lap, placing his hands over it. "Look after him for me, Ari'doram," she quietly said in turn. Ruran’s head slowly bobbed in affirmation, an echoing breath leaving him as the soulstone glimmered. His fingers curled over the edges of the mask, but he otherwise remained still and stared at his lap. There he would remain until she returned at nightfall, true to his word, lost in a myriad thoughts that even Ari’doram could not fully contain.

[a-memory-of]

Ruran Vas was waiting for Ellere, as he said he would, though his tired form was slowly pacing. The light at his chest flickered on occasion. He looked up as she arrived. "Ah--g-good, you made it alright." As if he wasn't sure she would. As Ellere Valahan approached, she could see the armored figure pacing back and forth in the distance. "I believe I would know the way to this dusty old place in my sleep by this point," she breathed out, smiling. "Admittedly you caught me by surprise."

"I--I apologize." He looked down, weight shifting on the soles of his feet. "I had not expected I would ever find it." From his satchel, he pulled out one of the keys. It was not a typical 'key', per se, but rather a small pyramid-shaped stone with a blue crystal carved seamlessly at its point.

Ellere took a step forward, looking closer at the object. "Quite different than the other I remember. What a peculiar looking thing..." her hand curled at her chin. "Have you tested it upon the door?"

Ruran shook his head. "I did not wish to test it without someone with me. This place has...taught me caution." He put the key back into his bag, and Ari'doram flickered again. "L-let us head inside." "A fine lesson," she nodded her head and made to follow him. Ellere patted her own satchel, "But I shall look after you. Now, let us find your prize. I am sure you are eager."

He made a quiet, determined sound, but he did not admit more than that. He led her through the halls of Qarn--most of it familiar to Ellere by now. Over time, the tunnel to the labyrinth had been made wider by clearing more debris, and there were signs of Ruran's work outside. Parchments and scrawled maps, a lantern, a blanket for his occasional overnight stay. Ruran didn't talk much, focused on leading her along and focusing at the incoming task.

The labyrinth had been well-lit by torches on the wall, likely by Ruran's recent visit. Occasionally, there were interesting murals or debris that had caved into the maze of halls, but Ruran moved too quickly for her to mind them. Twists and turns, corners marked with chalk, until they finally reached a very long hallway that ascended upwards. "Up here," Ruran mumbled, heading up. Midway through, there was another hall; Ruran turned there, and a large door stood before them.

Ellere noted his far quieter and more serious demeanor, but could only assume it was the nature of their purpose here. She caught sight of familiar-looking murals, remembering their promise to see more of them when life would allow. The chalk too, another welcome and familiar sight. But it seemed Ruran had been busy since the last she had come. Ellere stopped at the foot of the door at Ruran's side, looking up and up. "It is still remarkable that much of this place has been left untouched..."

"There is undoubtedly much more yet to be found," he murmured, pulling his pack in front of him again. "But you are right. Much has been lost--buried. It is a miracle. Or...perhaps fate." The stone twinkled at that, and Ruran pulled his pack in front of him and opened the flap. He pulled out three keys, each one a little different from the other, but each of them contained a different color crystal embedded within. Blue, red, yellow. 

There were three indents on the door, each framed with a corresponding color, with lines that traced up the stone door and to its frame. It would be simple enough to assume that each key had to be placed in the matching color. Ruran stepped closer, one key in his hand. "I sense darkness within," he noted, looking over his shoulder, but it was more a warning for her than a new discovery.

Ellere watched him in silence a moment, eyes following his hands as he withdrew each key and approached the door. "Fate? You mean to say it was waiting for someone like you?" the question was mused aloud, more rhetorical than expecting an answer from it. His warning was not taken lightly, and she gave him a nod, "I am right at your side."

Ruran offered her a soft look, a small break away from his serious demeanor. He nodded once, took a breath, and then placed the first key. Green with green, and the patterns that lined the door lit up in the same hue. Ari'doram flickered, and Ruran did the same to the others. Red. Yellow. All three keys fit easily into their chambers, lighting up in turn until the door was framed in colorful lights.

A terrible grinding began to rumble, shaking age-old dust and some small debris from the nearby walls. The door crawled upwards, pull by ancient gears. Ruran placed himself slightly in front of Ellere, his hand at the hilt of his blade as he waited.

She watched, fascinated despite the circumstance. No matter how many places she had been, or the things she had seen, there was still a wonder in moments like this where the past came alive and she was reminded of old magic. As the door opened, she kept quiet, but alert, keenly aware of the weight her mother's starglobe on her back. She waited for the dust to clear, a spell already half formed on her lips in precaution.

The stone door slid upwards out of the view. As the dust settled, and they would soon be able to see what it had been hiding for so many years. Darkness. A tar-like substance gathered on the walls and floor, glistening from the light on Ruran's soulstone. There was a faint blue glow of ancient crystal lanterns on the wall, but they could barely be seen, for they too were covered in the strange black pitch. Ruran, cautious but not deterred, took a step forward.

The tar nearest him seemed to recoil against Ari'doram's holy light. The other side of the room could not yet be seen.

The room gave her pause, admittedly. When Ruran had spoke of darkness, Ellere had not assumed this was what he meant. "Twelve..." she shook her head. She had never seen anything like it. As he stepped forward, so did she, noting the way the dark substance avoided him and she knowing she had no such gift. "What is this? Have you seen such before?"

Ruran nodded. "Each stone thus far has been assailed by darkness... Stay with me. Do not allow it to touch you." As the masked man stepped forward, Ari'doram shone brighter, glaring against the darkness of the room and exposing more within. "I sense the stone," he mumbled to Ellere or Ari'doram or both.

At the far end of the room, there was a hulking mass covered in pitch black, roughly ten fulms tall and humanoid in shape. A large rectangular box sat behind it. The oozing darkness trembled with Ruran's every step, perhaps growing agitated from the disturbance.

Ellere furrowed her brow, but need not be told twice. She spared a glance down to their feet as they walked, making sure her steps were clear of the darkness. As she looked up again and saw the towering figure, she tensed, hand shifting to grasp the globe as needed. "The box, I would wager? And I would also bet that this thing will not simply let us pass."

Ruran's attention shifted to the box, his head canting slightly. He took another step forward, and then glanced back up again. "...No..." Something had changed in his voice--an echoing effect as if one tone was layered over another. His doubled words muttered behind his mask, near a whisper, and in an ancient language that she would not understand. Ruran seemed transfixed on the figure ahead. 

As he spoke, something in the center of the large figure shines. A similar golden light, high in its chest, smothered in the tar. A golem. Its stone now activated, the smothered golem began to move.

__________________________ With @weepingknight​

Worried eyes followed Ruran as he stepped forward. She could barely hear the whispered words, but they were nothing that made sense to her. Ellere had seen Ari'doram's influence take hold of him before, but even this seemed different. "All right then..." she breathed out, mostly to ready herself than in reply to him. Her weapon was fully drawn, the glove hovering over her outstretched hand. A flick of her wrist formed a barrier over him.

As Ruran took another step, a brave vine formed from a dark corner and attempted to seize his arm. However, Ellere's barrier would prove to be well-spent, and it would deflect off her magic shield and retreat back to the inky shadows. The golem, try as it may, could not move any further than it had. Its golden crystal heart crackled and sparked. "Closer," Ruran's voices muttered, staring forward. "We must get--..."

Another step. His light continued to shine, but the darkness was growing more agitated. More bold. It began to creep around them in a circle, pressing into the light's periphery and making the most of the shadow their bodies cast behind Ruran's stone by snaking forward.

Ellere kept her steps with his. Her attention was torn between him, the golem as it tried to move, and the darkness slowly surrounding them. Choosing the closer threat, Ellere turned on her heels back almost against Ruran's. She did not expect her aether to have the same effect as Ari'doram. But the barrier had worked before. Spreading her hands out, she formed a semi-circular shield covering the places his light did not fully reach. Ruran continued to be transfixed, his attention solely on the golem ahead of him, as if nothing else existed. More ancient words spilled from his lips, and he extended one hand. The golem's soulstone grew brighter, and some of the darkness had begun to retreat from its core. Not nearly enough.

The darkness seeped around Ellere's barrier, searching for an edge and slithering higher and higher. At this point, it had climbed about as high as her knees. Just beyond the barrier, in the dimness of the light, blobs of the tar-like substance had begun to rise up higher and take some sort of shape...

Ellere grit her teeth, extending the barrier out more and more. Such a thing would not last long, she knew. And as other shapes began to appear around them, Ellere glanced over her shoulder. As he was, she was not sure if he was even aware she was there. "Ruran dear, I do not mean to rush you," she tried, "But I believe we are about to have company."

The darkness continued to creep up her shield, now to her waist. The blob beyond it seemed to feed off her thoughts--her fears, or something more abstract. It slowly formed a figure of a slouching man, but below his waist, he had eight long, spindly spider legs. The more time it had to form, the more details that came to life. The inky figure solidified, now wearing a mask and armor, a darkened image of Ruran himself.

Ruran--perhaps hearing her, perhaps not--took another step closer to the golem. His eyes burned bright behind his mask, and the power from the golem's soulstone began to drift toward his hand, wind around his arm, and enter Ari'doram's stone.

Ellere narrowed her eyes, and gave a long sigh, "Well, that's a lovely sight..." Understanding Ruran was far too preoccupied, she set herself up to defend them both. Raising her hand, she extended the barrier further, up and around. And then with a bright pulse of unaspected light, she attempted to dislodge what was clinging to it.

The darkened form of the Ruran-like creature let out a screech as her magic shook off what its darkness had managed to cling to. Its mask fell, revealing a long face with mouth agape and eyes wide, all glowing red from within. With a garbled cry, it practically threw itself onto her shield, its form splatting back into dark ooze as it attempted to smother over her entire shield and constrict.

More of the light wound through Ruran and to his stone. As the golem's stone flashed again and dispersed more darkness from it, more of its stone body could be seen. Deep runes were carved into its rocky surface. Runes not unlike the very ones carved into Ruran's skin. "I...I finally see..." Ruran says breathlessly, still unaware of the very precarious situation they were in.

That sight would likely be burned into her mind for some time, flinching as the force struck against her barrier. Flickers of light flashed along the edges, weakening points. Ellere collapsed the star globe back into it's holster, splaying her hands outward and nearly against the barrier itself to weave it more firmly. The force was shrinking it, she could feel it constricting around the two of them. -

A voice from behind her made her spare a glance at Ruran, the blinding light making her squint. Whatever he saw, she could not. But his voice alone helped her to keep the barrier strong.

The space grew tighter and tighter, thin cracks beginning to web across the barrier. Another thud pounded against the dome, but the shadows surrounding them prevented Ellere from seeing what it was. And then again. And again.

Just when it seemed the shield would give way, the golem's soulstone burst from its chest. Now freed, it surged toward Ruran, all at once. Its crystal shattered, forming light that encompassed him. He staggered backwards, stopped by Ellere's back against his. The knight let out a haggard gasp, his eyes wide, and the holy light exploded from him too.

The rays burst past her barrier and shred through the darkness that resided in the chamber, purging every ilm of the room until there was none of the ooze left. 

The threat was gone. Just the two of them, standing in the ancient room. The crystal lanterns on the wall could now illuminate their surroundings. The large, rune-carved golem stood before them, now a statue without its soulstone, and the tar-covered box had actually been a prominent and impressive Belah'dian coffin. Various artifacts lay on small pedestals along the wall, where more murals had been etched.

Ruran stayed on his feet but swayed, his sea-green eyes distant. Occasionally, they sparked with gold.

[a-memory-of]

Ellere Valahan led them down toward the lakeside still cradling a glass of wine (she could return it later in the evening). "Well, that certainly was nice. Both what I expected and what I did not," she mused, crossing the small wooden bridge toward a covered gazebo.

Ruran Vas followed Ellere, also still carrying his glass. "I...struggle to comprehend how they can have such a way with words." His tone was a mixture of awe and confusion. "I have--never been the poetic type, myself..."

She tilted her head in thought, "Neither have I, nor was I ever good at song or dance, as you know. But I do enjoy it. Things that come from the heart as those do." Ellere turned, tucking her dress under her knees as she took a seat.

Ruran sat beside her, holding the glass gingerly between his hands as he leaned his elbows on his knees. He had seemed a little more distant than usual, though his answers were always polite. "You are quite good at dance," he complimented.

"You flatter, yet still will not find me upon a stage any time soon, I would wager," she laughed quietly, taking a sip of her own glass. "I hope at least it was good to get out," Ellere spoke after a small pause, reaching over and laying a gentle hand on his arm.

"I-It was, yes." He looked over the water before glancing down, and he put his hand over hers, as if belatedly realizing it was there. "Thank you for inviting me. They say they will be doing more."

Ellere nodded, glancing up to him, "That they did. Not that we need an excuse to come out this way, but I think the woods do you good. Even if I can see your mind is elsewhere, I thank you for the company."

Ruran blinked, and guilt flit over his eyes. "I--I apologize." His tone and gaze suggested a frown. "..." He looked down at his drink and fiddled with the glass, and he tried his best to stay on course. "I do enjoy the woods, yes. A-as you know. And your company."

She shook her head, turning her hand and giving his a squeeze in reassurance. "I would be a fool to not realize what occupies your mind. You are... more than welcome to share your troubled thoughts, you know."

He studied his glass for several moments, deliberating on what to say. How to say it. "I feel...something changing. In us." He motioned to his chest, where the soulstone had been tucked away behind his tunic. When he looked her way, his brows were furrowed. His eyes shadowed with confusion. "Between you and Ari'doram?" she tilted her head, and moved to set her glass down beside her. Ellere did not have to see it to know it was there, always there. "Do you not believe it to be connected to... how close you are? To finishing what was asked?"

"Perhaps," his distant voice pondered. "There is.." He paused and started again, finding better words. "--For suns, I have felt something...on the edge of my mind, at all times. A word, a thought..?" He seemed unsure. "Do you ever...feel that you have forgotten something, but do not know what it is..?"

Ellere frowned, admittedly at a loss for what the feeling could be. "I think we all suffer such things, perhaps in time it will come to you, but," she paused, looking down, "You do trust me, don't you, dear?"

_______________________________

With @weepingknight​

"Of course I do." There was no hesitation, his word genuine, fervent even.

"Then I shall say," she began, "Trust in Ari'doram. Walk forward, do not hesitate, and live with no more regrets." Ellere's free hand rose up and touched his chest, not the stone, but over his heart, and she smiled, "Follow it. And I... have the utmost faith in all that happens, will be what was meant to."

Ruran stared. It took a few moments to process what he had heard. "Truly?" It was spoken almost breathlessly. He nodded, slowly, and then with a few more quick bobs. "I will--c-certainly, but... What has changed your mind..?"

Ellere gave a small, breathy laugh, looking to her lap, "I suppose that does not sound much like I used to, does it?" There was another pause, not long, but her eyes were thoughtful and distant. "You. You've changed my mind. Knowing you as I have, I see now why this is your path, and why I believe... why I hope." Her own hand rose up, touching her chest in a mirrored motion of what she had just done to him. "I do not think there are words, but it is something here."

Ruran glanced between her face and her hand, thoughtful. "I think I understand... To hear you say such is...a greater relief than I can express. P-perhaps you are right, and this--thought..." Again, he wasn't sure. "--will return to me. Should I figure it out, I shall tell you." His look softened, and he hesitantly reached to put an arm around her. "Thank you, Ellere."

"Change does not have to be a bad thing, dear," Ellere looped an arm around him in turn, "I imagine there... will be much between the two of you, distant thoughts and otherwise, in the coming suns. But," she met his eyes, still smiling but there was something still very serious, determined, about her gaze, "Remember your heart, dear. It gives far better advice than I."

"My heart..." He echoed the words with a careful air, great consideration taken with them. "I will. ...I will try," he corrected himself, brows furrowing. When he spoke again, his voice was smaller, more sheepish. "Right now, I...feel more confused than anything."

"Oh dear, I hope my blabbering on did not add to your woes," she tightened the hug for a moment, "If it makes you feel any better, can you imagine my own confusion when I realized I wanted less and less to toss that stone of yours into the nearest sea?" Ellere smiled, letting him know she was kidding.

His head shook at her first comment; the confusion had been lingering for suns. That strange sense of forgetting. He tightened the hug in return. "I can only imagine. You were...quite against it, for a long time. N-not that I blame you."

Ellere was quiet a moment, not quite sure what to say that would ease him. So she simply let her head rest on his shoulder. "Do you remember that night in Qarn? Where you woke with me at the place where Ari'doram was found?" She was careful with her words. "I told you Ari'doram wished for me to see it, but I believe we also may have... come to an understanding."

Ruran returned the closeness, allowing himself to relax. The gentle lapping of water against the wooden platform, and the rustling of the wind through the leaves, helped with that. "I...do remember that, yes. An understanding?" He paused, and a very subtle light glimmered behind his tunic. "I--I see."

Ellere did not like keeping secrets from him, but she believed knowing what they had spoke of may do more harm than good. He did not need more conflicted thoughts, not now, and they should be his choices, she stood by that. "I do hope this feeling you have gives you an answer, soon," she said quietly, "But until then, remember what I said. Have trust. In it, and yourself."

Ruran nodded, but he seemed to have little else to say. He slowly inhaled, his gaze searching outward over the water. With another small squeeze, he seemed content to allow stillness to fall over them.

[a-memory-of]

Well into the evening bells, Arshtat Ejinn moved away from the campfires of Athra in search of Madoc. In the distance and across the waves, she could see the heavy fog surrounding the island and she tried to swallow down the uneasy feeling she always felt when she looked to it. It was not hard, her mind was elsewhere.

Earlier that morning she had a long, heartfelt talk with Miss Red. And ever since then, she had been restless, trying to busy herself away from camp. She had swam, but even that had not fully calmed her nerves. As she walked, she tried to plan what she would say. But she truly did not know where to start.

Perhaps sensing something off, or simply knowing his mother was on the move, Khuu followed her down toward the beach. He gently bumped his head under her hand, and she turned to look down at him. Despite it all, she could not help the gentle smile. "Want to help me look for him, then?" Along a rocky portion of the beach-side, two glimmers of firelight could be seen in the distance, one far lower to the ground than the other. In the light, the form of Madoc Parnell could be seen holding a torch, and he was speaking with one of the Goblins.

There was no secretive air to their meeting, and from where Arshtat stood, she could already make out a few words. They appeared to be talking about the 'nightbeast', and the tracks that were recently discovered in the north.

Madoc paused as he sensed movement from the corner of his eye, and he spotted Khuu first. His hulking, striped feline frame was easier to decipher in the evening light. Whether by process of elimination, or because he recognized her posture, he noticed Arshtat next.

"Luv," Madoc greeted warmly, the usual smirk on his face.

The Goblin turned, a quiet 'shkoh' from the gas mask, and then gave a polite wave. As Arshtat approached the lights, Khuu ran ahead to greet Madoc himself. He looked back toward Arshtat, and trotted between the two a few times as if to say he had found Madoc all on his own. Hanging back a little, Arshtat raised a hand in greeting to the Goblin in return.

She had expected Madoc to be alone, and now seemed unsure. He could probably tell there was something on her mind, but she did her very best to be polite. "I am sorry... I hope I did not i-interrupt." "Not interruptin'," Madoc was quick to assure. He glanced down at Khuu, his smirk tugged, and he looked back up to Arshtat again, fondly.

The Goblin shook his head. "Was just talking about the nightbeast, pshkoh." He looked between the two—the way Madoc fondly looked at Arshtat. Reading the room, he added, "But going back to gobbietown, take safetimes."

"Aye," Madoc replied with a small wave of his hand, and he began to tread toward Arshtat as the Goblin scampered back to the settlement. "What're you doin' out here, luv? Lookin' for me?" He grins. "Oh, yes... I hope the tracks we find w-will give us answers," Arshtat nodded, knowing the situation was a worry for everyone, most especially the Goblins who had allowed them what safety they could. When the Goblin excused himself, Arshtat gave a small nod of her head in goodbye.

The question instantly got a reaction from Arshtat. She looked like she had been caught, shoulders tensing and her cheeks coloring, "I... no---! I m-mean, yes... I was looking for you!" Taking a breath, and trying to settle herself back down, she looked up to him, "I mean... will you take a walk with me?" Madoc released a chuckle at her flustering. There was a curious gleam in his eyes at the request, but bit back any questions. “‘Course, it’s a nice evening for it.”

The tall Xaela stepped closer. His torch would provide ample light for them to walk as the night grew darker. He offered Khuu a friendly scritch, then put his hand at the small of Arshtat’s back and smirked to her. “So, which way?” Arshtat hesitated a moment, but Khuu helped to decide for her. Looking up to Madoc, and keeping close, she gestured with a small nod of her head after the tiger, "Just down the b-beach a bit?" Madoc was not wrong, the night was nice. There was a calm breeze, and Arshtat always appreciated the soft sounds of the gently rolling waves on the shoreline.

As they walked down toward the sand, Arshtat bit down on her lip. She still had not decided the best approach, or how to start. But Red's words echoed in her head, and she was determined to see it through, and be there for Madoc.

"Madoc...?" she tried, after walking in silence for several minutes. "Are... you doing all right?" Madoc peered down at her, one brow quirked. “Aye, ‘course I am.” The response came easy and with a smirk, born of innate confidence the Xaela carried. “Still a ways to go before we can get to the island proper. Gotta get the locals on our side first.” He jerked his head toward the town, where its faint lights glimmered in the distance.

Pausing, he turned the torch to get a better look at her face. Something seemed amiss, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Somethin’ on your mind, luv?” The easy, almost expected answer, made Arshtat frown. Perhaps before she foolishly would not have questioned it, and yet now she felt as though she must. What he spoke of, they were worries, yes, things they needed to do. But there had to be something else.

She looked up at the question, noting he was intently watching her face and quickly looked back down. Arshtat took a deep breath, still quite determined. She never had issues speaking with Madoc before, and quietly wondered why this time was so different.

"Is... something not on yours?" she finally asked, tilting her head to the side. "The... Archivist," it was the first time she had actually referred to it as something other than 'the pit.' "It... i-it knew your ring. B-But it said itself, it does not know th-things not from the island..." Madoc stopped walking. His features fell—not much, but just enough that Arshtat would know something had changed. “...So you saw that, mmh?” He smiled at her. Of course she did.

He looked down at his right hand, the crimson ring glistening in the torchlight. “Got some thoughts on it,” he said, once again avoiding the question. The hand clenched and released. “Need to know more.” When Madoc stopped, Arshtat stopped a step after and turned to look back at him with a worried frown. That pause alone was telling enough. "Thoughts?" she questioned, trying once more to get him to share them.

"W-When did you... see Wolf last...?" Arshtat also tried a more specific approach. She was still fidgeting, but she was at least attempting to catch Madoc's eye. "Are you... certain he never came here?" Madoc’s gaze flicked to meet hers, and he smirked. Finding a nearby rock, he leaned the torch against it so that it could burn while he sat. He eased onto the sand and motioned for her to join him.

“C’mere, luv,” he invited, offering no answer yet. _____________________

With @thrillofbattle

Arshtat was not quite sure what to make of that smirk, but when asked, she obediently moved to settle beside him on the sand. Khuu noticed they had stopped, and trotted back toward them. He circled a moment, then lay down half curled around them both, tail occasionally flicking back and forth. Madoc pulled Arshtat closer to him, so that nothing could be missed in each other’s eyes. He allowed his hands to wander, just a little, toward her hips and thighs. Even in these circumstances, he was insatiable for her. Khuu provided a little warmth, for as big and near as he was.

This was how he was most comfortable, and it was easier to speak matters closer to his heart. “Don’t think Wolf would lie to me...but can’t say I wouldn’t deserve it if he did.” When tugged closer, again Arshtat did not fight it. She welcomed the nearness with her own troubled thoughts. The hand at her hip was worrying, almost. She did not know if he was not taking such talk as serious as he should, or if it was something else.

But his following words led her to believe it was indeed something else. He was still not admitting much, giving answers that were vague. So, she pressed him further. "Why would you say that...? Was he u-upset with you?" Fora brief moment, a curious gleam flickered over his dark eyes. She was asking a lot of questions—more than she usually did. But if there was anyone who could get away with asking him anything, it was her.

“Nay. Wolf was firm but patient; think the only time I’d ever seen ‘im mad at me was when I’d run off as a young lad and nearly get myself killed. And even then, it’s just ‘cause he cared.”

He eyed her, curious once again, but continued. “His death, it—hit me hard,” he finally relented, the smirk fading. “I'd let my beast take over for cycles, did things that’d shame ‘im. Wouldn’t be surprised if he knew what I’m capable of becomin’...but don’t think he’d set me up into some sort of trap. ...Kind of infuriating.” Arshtat kept her eyes on his as he spoke, only dropping them down once he had stopped, and it was clear she was deep in thought. Her head leaned a little closer, offering nearness as a form of comfort. She knew loss, they both did. She understood.

"I think he'd be proud of you," she said firmly, turning back to look up at him again. "I do not know w-what you did, a-and I would listen, if you told me... but I also do not need to, to know that."

She shifted, small hand finding his larger one. Arshtat's fingers touched the red ring upon Madoc's hand. "We all hold shame. We... have done things we w-wish we did not. But it is how we choose to live after... yes? H-He would see you were strong enough to change." “I’d like to think so, aye.” His smirk appeared more easily, and the look of fondness returned as he studied her. Their talk seemed to ease him some, and he didn’t appear as burdened as he was before. His thumb played with the underside of his ring finger, nudging the crimson ring this way and that. His other hand shifted to the small of Arsh’s back.

“This ring’s got a history—one that Wolf never told me. Maybe it’s from ‘ere. Maybe that’s why Wolf’s so interested in this place. Or maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe it’s coincidence. Maybe I’m readin’ into the whole thing. I got a lot of maybes and more questions than answers, and I’m guessin’ that pit can answer at least one of ‘em.”

[a-memory-of]

It was a warm summer’s day on the Narrowlight Isles. With the sun high in the sky, the large island across the strait could be seen in the distance, unhindered by the nightly fog. It mostly consisted of thick trees and foliage, which didn’t grant much new information to Madoc and the rest.

During breakfast, Red had requested that Arshtat join her on the beach that afternoon. The sandy shores within Athra’s limits were deemed safe enough by the Goblins.

Red wore her traveling attire, with a turban wrapped about her head. Even in the midst of a rundown place with limited supplies, she managed to keep herself looking refined. Bangles clinked against her wrists as she knelt to pick up an interesting shell or stone, waiting for the Xaela to arrive. It was not long before Arshtat Ejinn made her way to the small, secluded beach just outside the village. Khuu was at her side, following along and occasionally bumping his head against her hand for a scritch or two as they walked. She was not quite sure what Red had wanted, but she had, of course, agreed to meet with her. It wasn't hard to slip away with Madoc occupied and so many plans to be made.

Once the other woman came into view, Arshtat bowed her head in greeting, "A-Ah, Miss Red... s-sorry, I hope you did not wait long." The little Xaela had to marvel at her for a moment, so refined and tall as she was.

Her own clothes suited the isles well enough, a simple tunic and cropped leggings. She had not bothered with shoes, the beach and the waves perhaps too tempting during the more quiet moments of the day. “Not long at all,” Red assured with a smile. She stepped over, took Arshtat’s hand, and gave it a squeeze. She always seemed quite comfortable with touch, as if everyone was her dearest friend. And Arshtat was certainly up there, despite not having known her long.

“Just long enough to find this.” In her opposite palm, she showed off the iridescent white shell, fully intact and glimmering the sunlight. “Isn’t it lovely?” she asked. Her green eyes brimmed with wonder and satisfaction. Arshtat herself was a tactile person. The touch to her hand was welcome, and she returned the hold. Khuu rubbed his large head against Red's leg in his own form of greeting. With a smile, she looked relieved.

"Oh?" she peered down at the shell, and giving an awed nod. "It is, yes. It reminds me of the kind my mother used to fashion into jewelry..." Arshtat blinked, lips parting slightly. It had been some time since she had thought of her tribe, or her family. Red released Arshtat’s hand to offer an enthusiastic scruff to the top of Khuu’s head and neck, looking down and smiling at the tiger before peeking back to the Xaela.

She noted her expression, and her eyes lit curiously. “Would you show me how she used to make them? Not now, of course, but perhaps when we return to the Broken Horn?” Eyes turning up to the other, Arshtat looked a little surprised at the request. But the look melted easily into something more fond, "I... would like that. My mother was not of the Ejinn originally... H-Haragin, seafarers. She was always adorned with such things."

As Khuu excused himself with a low chuff, heading toward the water, Arshtat looked a little embarrassed, "I am sorry. I d-did not mean to distract. You... asked me to come here, yes? I-Is something the matter?" Red’s brows rose. “Nothing is the matter. And that was hardly a distraction,” she dismissed with a smile. “I enjoy getting to know you. Come sit with me.”

She moved to the side, finding a rather large rock to sit upon. There was room enough for two. “I wish to know your thoughts. What do you make of all this?” She motioned to the island around them. "O-Oh," Arshtat bit on her lip, obediently following Red to the nearby rock and settling down beside her. There was something in the way the other woman held herself that made Arshtat incredibly nervous. She was so well-kept, almost regal.

She furrowed her brow at the question, glancing around while she thought. Her eyes eventually settled on Khuu in the distance as he played in the waves along the shoreline. "I... am not sure," Arshtat finally admitted quietly. "Others s-speak of odd feelings, and e-even I must guess that it is connected to the strange fog. Th-Then there is that creature in the pit..." Red seemed keenly aware of Arshtat’s nerves, and she offered the young woman a small nudge and a warm smile, then listened.

“Ah, I have heard of that pit. The Archivist. I would like to see for myself, when we become more acquainted with the mainland...” She hummed thoughtfully and set the shell in her lap, admiring it a moment before glancing back to Arshtat to ask, “and Madoc? How do you think he’s faring?” Arshtat tried to smile at the nudge, forcing herself to relax a bit. She knew Miss Red did not mean to be as intimidating as she was. She gave a small nod when the other spoke of the pit, though it was clear the topic made her uneasy.

"I... am worried for him," Arshtat admitted, fiddling with the bracelet Madoc had given her so long ago. "I know he would say I am being foolish and should not but, I do. I fear there is something more that h-he is not telling me, or perhaps more he did not know himself..."

______________________________

With @fatedflower

After a moment, she looked up to Red and confessed something that had been on her mind, "When we went to the p-pit... it said it did not know of things n-not of the island. But... it seemed to know Madoc's ring. The one from the man who r-raised him. M-Madoc said he never was able to f-find this place..." The news made Red’s brows furrow. She touched her bottom lip in thought and looked down, and she saw the bracelet. Her features softened, and she smiled at Arshtat.

“How much do you know about Wolf?” The question seemed sudden and unrelated, yet she seemed genuinely curious. “Madoc has never called him ‘father’—although he’s gotten close. But that is who Wolf is, in everything but name. Has he told you much?” The little Xaela gave a small nod, "H-He told me, yes, he was the man who raised him after his tribe was... attacked. The man who taught him to fight and h-how to be a mercenary. He was the man who left him the ring which controls his Karash."

Arshtat paused, looking down to her lap again and then shook her head, "That is all I know. M-Madoc has never shared much of his past with me. A-And I do not wish to pry." “Wish to pry?” Red did not even try to stifle the laugh that framed her words, and she turned more fully to clasp Arshtat’s hands again. “My dear Arshtat, if there is anyone who aught pry, it is you. You, who shares his bed each night. You, who has remained by his side for...cycles now. You, who Madoc says he loves.”

Her features were soft but clearly amused, and her kind eyes would try to meet Arshtat’s gaze. “You are a lovely woman with a gentle heart—but for stars’ sake, pry more.” As hands took hers again, Arshtat brought her wide eyes back to Red. "I..." she found she couldn't meet the other's gaze, no matter how kind it was, for very long. She suddenly felt ashamed. Should she have asked Madoc sooner? Had he been waiting for someone to share such things with?

Arshtat shook her head, "I... I have always been content with what h-he wishes to tell me. That if there w-was something that needed to be said... he t-trusted me enough to tell me. He must h-have his reasons, yes?" She seemed genuinely conflicted, worried. "But... if something troubles his thoughts, I do not w-wish for him to be alone with them..." Red gave Arshtat’s hands a gentle squeeze. “This is something you must decide yourself. Madoc does not share certain parts of himself easily—there are things he is ashamed to admit.”

She frowns then, mirth lost as she continues to look at Arshtat. “...Things he has never forgiven himself for. That is what worries me, and what I think you must know. For his sake, as well as yours.” "I... I understand," Arshtat said quietly, nodding her head slightly as locks of purple hair slid over her eyes. She finally brought her gaze back up to Red, and she could only mirror the concerned frown. To realize Madoc had been suffering without her knowing, for so long, made heat gather behind her eyes. "I will try to t-talk with him..." Red's brows rose as she noticed Arshtat's expression, and she gently brushed the hair from the Xaela's face. "I did not mean for tears," she says with a small, sympathetic smile, holding her face between her hands for a brief, comforting moment. "The more you know, the more you can help him when he needs it. 'Tis all I meant to say."

Her hands return to her lap, but she keeps her attention wholly on Arshtat. "I have known Madoc for a long time. He is no stranger to big choices—starting a mercenary company. Building a bar. Confessing his love." Her soft smile expanded at the last one as she peeked to Arshtat. "But this seems different, doesn't it? This seems...very personal for him. Something out of...obligation to Wolf, not solely out his own desire." Her words are slow and intentional, as if she's deciphering exactly what she's trying to say before she says it.

She waved her hand, swatting away the thoughts and the trying to shoo away the mood. "But look at me prattling on and filling the silence. I do that when I feel guilty, you know." Arshtat shook her head quietly, trying to offering Red a smile. She had managed to keep her tears at bay, though it was clear she had much to think on. "It is not you...," she leaned into the hands for that moment, a gentle and foreign touch. "I simply... r-regret not seeing it. All I have ever wanted... was to be there for him. To make him happy."

As Red pulled back, and Arshtat settled back as well, she listened and agreed with another small nod. "When we r-received the letter, something changed, yes. T-To bring everyone here... to organize all this," her hand gestured a bit, toward Athra and toward the airship. "I know it means m-much to him. We do things like this... for family."

Khuu, who was quite soaking wet by now, was stalking up the beach back toward them lazily. He flopped at the base of the rock, under their feet. Arshtat looked to him, then slowly pulled her eyes toward Red once more, "I believe... it was all n-needing to be said. But... why do you feel guilty?" Red offered a small smile toward the soggy tiger. "For worrying you, of course," she says, peering back to Arshtat. "You make Madoc quite happy, and do not doubt it for one moment." She was quite firm in that regard.

"He speaks your praises quite often, and I believe every one of them. 'She's the best thing to happen,' he says. 'Aye?'" A bit of amusement plays on her features at the familiar word of his. She couldn't hold back the quiet laugh at the familiar 'aye' in such a voice. Arshtat nodded, cheeks colored. She never really doubted he cared for her, but to hear that he spoke of it so openly to others was still something she was unused to.

"I do not tell him enough, what h-he means to me, as well," Arshtat looked out to the waves for a moment. She rose a hand up and tucked a lock of hair behind her horn. "We... all have things we are ashamed of. I am... not a stranger to it." “Regret is what makes us,” she mused aloud. “Anyone who can look back and think they’ve done nothing wrong, are lying to themselves. It is what we learn from those regrets that allow us to grow. For better or worse.”

She smiled toward Arshtat. “You ought to go tell him. He would like to hear it, I’m sure.” Slipping off the rock, she straightened her garments and tucked the seashell in a pouch. “You will still teach me how to make this jewelry, won’t you?” Khuu looked up as Red moved to stand, eyeing her lazily from the ground but making no other move besides a low chuffing sound. Arshtat slid off the rock herself, carefully stepping over the lounging tiger. "O-Of course," she nodded her head, "The first free moment we h-have back home."

"Thank you," she continued, her fingers lacing with each other and fidgeting slightly. She seemed less upset than before, perhaps even determined. "F-For your words. And for listening to my w-worries." “You need not thank me,” she replied with a soft smile, her green eyes bright. “But you are welcome all the same. Would you care to walk back with me, or will you be staying for a bit longer?” "I think... I will stay a moment more," Arshtat replied quietly. "Perhaps the some time in the sea will help my thoughts." A swim did often do wonders for the Ejinn, and time to think was needed. The little Xaela offered a wave in farewell. "I shall see you b-back at camp soon." “I look forward to it.” Red reciprocated in kind, lifting her hand in farewell. “Keep an eye on her, won’t you, Khuu?” She did not forget the tiger, smiling a bit, before waving again to Arshtat and heading back to the settlement.

[a-memory-of]

Inheritance: The Ancient One

Given the influx of magical artifacts being found on the island, the chief of Athra suggested that Madoc Parnell and his companions visit someone the Goblins call the Ancient One. While most of what is said about the being seem to be far-fetched rumors, one thing is clear: its knowledge of the isle would be a boon. Perhaps it is some sort of guardian of Narrowlight.

Taking a small group of fighters, Madoc led Arshtat Ejinn, Otte Dreamwalker, and T’iolo Tia to the mainland during the day in search of this Ancient One. Upon arrival to their destination, they were set upon by strange earth-crafted golems--the 'sentinels' they were warned about--and proceed to prove their might against them.

The Ancient One turned out to be a strange abyssal creature residing in a deep pit, or could very well be the pit itself. Either way, it preferred the name 'The Archivist' and claimed to be a pursuer of knowledge. It is capable of appraising all manner of relics that the explorers find. Howevever, the Archivist is only able to discern the items that have been residing on the island for some time.

The whole thing was a little strange, but having something like the Archivist on their side did not seem like a bad idea, for now.

With @thrillofbattle @ffxivaltstars @grumpy-limsan-customs-cat

[a-memory-of]

The sun had just set over the Thanalan mountains when a dusty wanderer finished his humble campsite. His timing was nearly perfect, striking a match from his matchbook to light the cigarette tucked lazily in his lips, then using the same match to set the campfire ablaze against the twilight sky. It was all routine.

He settled in, prepping a small pan against the flames to warm it up. The nameless courier never minded being alone. An endless starry sky, a chorus of crickets and frogs, and just him and his desert campfire. And occasionally, his guitar. He had grown to love the peace these evenings brought, and the simple things that came with it. Like cooking.

Puffs of smoke followed him as he pulled seasoning and a wrapped parcel from his trusty satchel. He had been waiting all afternoon for this. Carefully unwrapping the paper, he pulled out a large slab of preserved aldgoat steak. More than enough for one person. He would manage.

Soon, the mixed aroma of cigarette smoke and searing seasoned steak filled the air. As he waited patiently for it to finish, the stranger pulled out a book from his satchel and started to read. Life on the road was not so bad at all. The silence of the wanderer's little campsite was soon broken by the distant sound of shouts. They got nearer and nearer, until finally, the sound of heavy and quick footsteps could also be heard. Soon the shouts began to form more intelligible words.

"---op! You stupid bird, I s-said stop? No, no no, no--ah!"

Rounding the corner, and in sight of the campsite finally, came a chocobo, pale feathers tipped in speckled browns. It was saddled, had several supplies strapped to its back, and trailing behind it was a hyur girl with her foot caught in the stirrup.

Upon seeing the camp, the chocobo came to a sudden stop, and starred at the sole occupant. The girl, also seeming to notice that there was another person, gave a soft, embarrassed 'oh'. Her foot quietly slipped from the stirrup and fell to the floor with a muted clunk onto the dirt. She then stood up frantically, straightening her clothes and dusting as much as the dirt away as she could. It looked... like she had been dragged for a bit.

"Oh... um...hello? Sorry! For... intruding and all," she fidgeted, pressing her two index fingers together. She started to ramble, maybe because of her display, or maybe not. "Oh, that smells really good! Is it aldgoat? It smells like aldgoat. Wow, that reminds me I haven't eaten dinner--I should... do that. I wonder how far out I am?" The wanderer peeked up from his book, sat up, and narrowed his eyes toward the shouting. A wary hand reached for the revolver hidden beneath his coat. Thankfully, it was not necessary, as the almost comical approach of the woman eased his fears of actual trouble. The firearm was hidden away again as she dusted herself off.

As she rambled, he blinked, a single brow quirked in amusement on his otherwise neutral expression. Only a small glance was offered to the chocobo; they tended not to be fond of him, and truth be told, he wasn't a fan of them either. The traveler lifted both hands to motion for the woman to slow down.

To prevent too much confusion, he waited for her to watch him before he began to sign with his hands. A couple short gestures, one to himself, one toward his mouth, accompanied by a shake of his head. The context alone was likely enough to explain he was a mute, but if she understood the silent language, she would know he was simply signing 'I cannot speak'.

But he could hear, and he reached into his satchel to pull out a map of the Thanalans. Sprawling it open in the firelight, he pointed toward Ul'dah, and then draaaaaagged his finger across the desert plains and tapped at a spot. Their location. ...They were very far from Ul'dah. Or anywhere. The girl tilted her head as the other lifted his hands, short brown hair falling a bit to the side. At first, it did not look as if she understood at all, but her eyes followed his hands still, in an attempt. Then slowly, slowly her lips parted and formed another quiet 'oh' before she cupped her fist in her hand in a moment of realization.

"Not a talker, huh? Well, that's okay, I talk a lot. The quiet folks I work with say I talk enough for them, too, and maybe a little too much," it seemed rambling was a habit of hers. Again she curiously peeked as he pulled out a map. She moved to crouch down by him, giving a slight groan when she realized where she was.

"Oooh... bandersnatch," she sighed, and then turned when a noise behind her caught her attention. Her chocobo was poking around the poor man's things. She flew up to her feet again, "Ah, no! Beans, don't do that!" Using her whole body to shove the bird away, she gave an embarrassed laugh, "Well um, I'm Penny, by the way, er, Penelope Wright. But most think that's too long I think. So Penny is okay. It was... nice to meet you, thanks for letting me see your map." The courier’s brows furrowed at the bird’s rummaging through his belongings. The satchel contained all sorts of things, not to mention the guitar case and a couple more sacks. Chocobos. His face soured a bit, but it quickly relaxed back into an expression of impassivity.

At Penny’s introduction, he bowed his head in acknowledgement, but of course offered no name in return. He was used to monikers and names growing from the context of a situation, only offering suggestions when asked.

Then, with a sudden start, he bolted up and turned his attention to his pan. His steak! He took a knife and tested the steak’s wellness—a little overcooked than he preferred due to the interruption, but it was still in great condition. It smelled incredible. He might’ve just been picky...or at least critical of his cooking. Penny shuffled her feet a bit, seemingly stuck on the fact he hadn't really offered a name for her to call him. But if he couldn't speak, she probably should have expected that. Would it be rude to make up one for him? She quietly shook her head, to herself, maybe even muttering a bit.

But thoughts were halted as he stood up. Penny herself visibly jumped, not really expecting the suddenness of it all. Hopping back, she nearly tripped over her chocobo, which had now dropped to its belly, legs tucked under it as if it was settling down to sleep.

"Did I distract you? I'm sorry, I hope it isn't ruined," Penny bobbed her head this way and that, as if she could see the steak on the inside. "It sure still smells really good!" As if to prove her point, her stomach gave a rather audible growl. "Hah... um, well yeah..." She turned back to the bird, attempting to tug it back to its feet.

"Come on, Beans! This isn't our fire, or our camp, I'm---" another tug, "I'm sure he doesn't want your smelly feathers anywhere near that delicious food." The man watched as she tugged at her chocobo, while lifting the steak off the pan. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. Unless she had food stored away or had plans to forage off the land, she would be due for a miserable ride to her destination. Her grumbling stomach suggested she at least did not have the former.

Curse his bleeding heart. He looked up at the sky and silently sighed, then glanced back down toward Penny. Since she was distracted, he made a sound: a low whistle from his lips, to get her attention. Should she look his way, he would beckon her back with a small gesture of his hand. Both Penny and Beans gave a bit of a start, looking back toward the whistle. Blinking and a little wide-eyed, she tilted her head at his wave and looked over her shoulder. There was no one else there, of course, but she had to be sure. "A-Are you saying we can stay? Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose--"

Her chocobo, however, now fully content his owner was not tugging him, plopped right back down where he had been and curled up. Penny sighed, loudly. She supposed it was hopeless. Penny slinked back toward the fire, tucking her skirt under her knees and squatting down across from the man. "Th-Thanks. Once Beans gets some rest, I promise to be out of your hair." _____________________________

With @laying-the-odds

He offered a nod in response, not...entirely dismissing the inconvenience of it all. But even so, he began to rummage for a second utensil. Once found, he flipped out a serrated switchblade from his pocket and began to cut the steak in half. The cigarette, loosely hanging in the side of his mouth, was nearly finished.

Despite any objections, he would pass her the plate of cooked meat with utensils. If she was fond of steak, the aroma would be amazing. The taste would be even more so, carefully seasoned and practically melted in her mouth.

He would wait, his piercing blue eyes watching her expectantly. If she hadn't expected the offer to stay by his fire, Penny certainly hadn't expected him to offer his food, too. With a wide-eyed and slack-jawed stare, she carefully and gratefully accepted the plate. "W-Wow..."

Shifting to set the plate over her bent knees, she eagerly cut off a rather large piece of the steak and all but shoved the fork in her mouth. It was quite visible that she enjoyed it, the flavor making her hum in approval and close her eyes. Another piece was quick to follow after she cut it, "I don't know how you cooked this, mister, out here. This is better than the stuff the big cities sell! Are you a chef or something? Travelling the world to find ingredients and all that? Whachacallit... oh, pilgrimaging?"

Penny shoved another piece in her mouth, this time not bothering to swallow before she started jabbering again, "Did you work in Ishgard? For one of them fancy lord-types? Did they kick you out for some reason? 'Cause they're sure dumber than a dodo if they did." The courier seemed satisfied with hr reaction, a small smile hinting at the corners of his mouth. He left his steak in the skillet and used it as his own plate, carving a piece and idling chewing as she rambled. He was only half paying attention, too busy scrutinizing the taste of his own cooking.

The taste was good. Not great, but good. He could do better—he needed butter. By the time he left his thoughts, he tried to catch up with Penny’s train of thought. His brows furrowed, a and his lips pursed. When he found a pause, he lifted up his hand to attempt to cease her talking. He took a piece of parchment and a small stub of charcoal, and he wrote one, simple sentence.  He held it up for her to see. ‘I am a courier.’ He patted the heavy satchel at his side for emphasis. Penny certainly had no issues with the taste of his cooking, her half of shared steak already nearly gone. She took the hint as the other held up his hand, pausing mid-sentence and watching him curiously. Oh, so he had paper and charcoal. That was rather smart. Leaning a little closer, she read the scribbled words and nodded her head in understanding before taking another bite.

"That must be real neat, bet you get to see lots of places," she tapped the end of the fork on her nose as she spoke, a bit lost in thought again. "That's why I love what I do. Get to visit so many places. Sometimes I get lost though, or Beans acts up, like tonight. Which I guess is okay. I usually find my way back all right."

Wiping her hand on her skirt, she turned and reached into one of her chocobo saddlebags. Penny pulled out a well-worn journal and opened it up for him. The pages were covered in little doodles of beastkin with notes. "I get paid to study animals, n'such. See which ones need hunting, which ones need left alone. Stuff like that." The journal interested him, and his eyes skimmed over the pages of doodles and notes. He nearly lifted his hands in response, but quickly caught himself and picked up his charcoal instead. After nodded a bit in understanding, he wrote again. ‘Pays good?’

He was more interested in the money. Blinking, Penny tilted her head this way and that, thinking. She probably hadn't noticed the desire to see more of the pages, but she shut the cover and held it out to him anyway with a smile, "You can look if you want! If you do a lot of traveling, chances are you might meet one or more of 'em right?"

"And I suppose it does. Depends on who wants the information sometimes," she pursed her lips as if she was reliving an unpleasant memory. "Them mercenary folks sure try and knock you down a bit, you know?" A light smile tugged at his lips, and he nodded. He knew. He held the book on his lap and flipped through the pages. As pages turned, he found himself searching for one beast in particular. A chimera. Creatures of the Thanalans would catch his eye as well. The journal was near full of creatures from all over the world, from the Thanalans and all the way to the East. It seemed Penny, despite her young appearance, had done quite a bit of traveling. The last ten pages or so were blank, likely to be filled with future research. "But that's okay I guess. I mean they are the ones out their risking their skins, sometimes the least I can do is cut them a break on a tip."

There was a small entry on a chimera it seemed, though it was only accompanied by other small doodles in the margins. One seemed to be of Penny herself, hands against her cheeks in shock, and the other a small group of hooded individuals. Under the drawing of the chimera itself were three simple words scribbled in and underlined darkly in ink, 'Bad. No NO.' The courier’s scarred lips smirked at the note beside the chimera. ‘No’ indeed. However, the doodle of the hooded individuals caught his attention even more so , and he looked to her with his finger near the drawing.

“Who?” The question was given with a simple breath, no signs or charcoal needed. Penny blinked, looking to the stranger momentarily shocked. She had just gotten used to him not talking, after all. So it wasn't that he couldn't, she told herself, but maybe that he didn't like to. Shaking her head to clear scattered thoughts, she looked to where he was pointing.

"Oh, well, I am not sure?" she held her hands up near her face, wiggling her fingers. "I was in... Sagolli a while back? And there were these weirdos all dressed up like that. Out in the middle of nowhere, where no one should have really been, you know? Next I know out pops one of those, a chimera, from out of this spooky portal. I didn't really stay to figure out why. I know beastkin, but when it comes to that, I leave that stuff to someone else." He met her look of surprise with an indifferent one. The word had required no vocal chords, but any ‘spoken’ response from the courier was rare indeed.

The explanation gave him pause, and a slight pinch of his brows indicated a thought coming to his mind. He reached for his charcoal and parchment and wrote.

‘Did you tell anyone?’ She nodded at first, though her mouth soon caught up to her actions. "I told some Flames that I knew were patrolling around Little Ala Mhigo, and when I got back to the city I reported it, too. It was all very..." Penny pursed her lips together, struggling to find words, "Well, I'm not sure they believed me. But I never really saw those strange people or that chimera again."

"Maybe it was all the heat, you know? Hallucinations and stuff," she shrugged after another long pause of seemingly deep thought. He chewed on the side of his cheek, thinking for several moments, and then nodded in understanding. Whatever other thoughts he had on the matter, he didn’t share. They were on two opposite ends of the social spectrum.

He flipped through a few more of the pages filled with interesting creatures. He couldn’t deny that it was an impressive collection. The book shut, and he passed it back her way. For lack of words, he offered a thumbs up and a nod, still straight-faced. He liked it. Penny tilted her head, thinking she might have said too much, or said something wrong. She did that often enough. Of all the things for him to pick out of her book, but she did not push it. After all, she was still half convinced the whole thing never happened.

Taking her journal back, she returned the thumb's up. "Thanks! I really do love animals. I wish I could sneak some more into my apartment, but I don't think it's allowed. Beans is really neat though! And I have Pickles. Pickles is my really, really ugly fish." A slight half-smile lifted the corner of his mouth. Pickles the fish. Beans the chocobo. He scrawled a few more words on the parchment.

“Name all your pets after food?” Looking down to his writings, Penny gave a small snort, "I guess I do? Well, it wasn't on purpose, I think." She tilted her head, pursing lips almost comically in thought. "Beans was my pop's though. He raised him up. I guess when he was little he was scrawny and had more legs than he knew what to do with. Like a bean sprout!"

Penny rose a hand up to scratch her head, "And... well, if you saw him, I think you'd say Pickles looks like a Pickles." The courier watched her carefully as she spoke. His apathetic features cracked just a bit more, a small, single huff leaving him. He glanced up at the sky, a mixture of pinks and oranges that deepened into darker shades of purple. Night would soon arrive. He looked down at the parchment and wrote something else, then showed it to her.

‘Have a place to stay the night?’ Penny looked down at the parchment again, and her own gaze was drawn up to the darkening sky. "Oh... well. I guess I did, do but. I had a room in Ul'dah. I got lost, and found you here, and you know how far out I was off track." It didn't really seem to bother her.

"Not the first night I've camped out! Not the last either, I'd bet," she gestured vaguely to a pile of supplies still tied down across Beans' saddle. "Though I guess I should get out of your hair, huh? Ah, bandersnatch, was that a hint to scoot? We got talkin' and talkin' and I didn't even realize the time." His brows rose, and he held up a dismissive hand. Scrawling quickly, he held up the paper.

‘Too far. Stay until dawn. Camp’s big enough for two.’

He shrugged and gestured to Beans, tossing up three fingers with his free hand. It didn’t make much sense for her to leave at dusk; she’d likely just get a malm before needing to make her own camp. Blinking, she stared at the paper for a long moment before clapping her hands together. "Really? Oh, wow, you're super swell, Mister Steak! Ah... that sounds like I'm callin' you a mistake---which you totally aren't, but you made such good food and I ought to call you something. Hm. I'll sleep on it, Mister Steak, we'll see if it sticks."

"Thank you, really! Honestly, I probably would have needed 'til mornin' to make this stubborn dunderhead move," Penny stood, walking over to Beans and poking at his crested head. The chocobo responded in turn by snapping his beak and nearly catching that finger.

She pulled off a few things from his saddle, a bedroll and a blanket. "I don't snore or nothin', least I don't think I do. I promise it'll be like I was never here." A hand rose up and made a cross motion over her chest.

[a-memory-of]

The sun was high in the sky, a bright and clear day with an occasional light breeze. A breeze Ruran Vas was always thankful for, as rare as it was in the Thanalans. He stepped along in his weathered armor, a satchel slung over his shoulder. Tucked under his arm, he held a ragged leather-bound book. He seemed to be looking for something, scanning the area with a thoughtful hum. Occasionally, the golden light from the stone at his chest flickered.

The quiet peace of the forest was interrupted by the distant sound of a scream. A young girl suddenly appeared over the nearby ridge, catching herself at the edge but losing her balance with a flail of arms. She tumbled head over feet down the hill, landing on her bottom with a flurry of papers and a groan. Over the ridge behind her a creamy colored chocobo hopped down after her, and behind it a pack of raptors hissed and growled from the top.

Ruran's attention snapped toward the hillside, his soulstone glimmering once. "O-oh--" Without hesitation, he began to trot towards the scene. "A-are you all right?" He held out his hand, perhaps in line with his thoughts of wishing to help her up, even though he wasn't near enough to her yet.

The pack of raptors continued to hiss and spit above them as the girl rubbed at her head. "Ow, ow, ow ow..." Hearing a voice, she jumped, looking up with a good amount of twigs and leaves in her hair. "A-ah...? Oh... uh, hello. Um, am I all right," the question to herself had her looking down as if to check. "I think so. Yeah, I'm all right." The chocobo merely gave a glance the stranger's way before going back to looking rather bored.

He edged closer, gaze shifting between raptors and the woman. "G-good, yes, ah--" His free hand moved to the hilt of his blade, just in case. "Let us...get away from the dangers above, yes..? Slowly."

The girl blinked again, still rubbing her head and then turned to look behind her. "Oh..." She took his offered hand and patted herself down, missing a bit of the stuff caught in her hair. "Oh, bugger right off!" she shouted back at the raptors, pursing her lips and hands to her hips. "You made me drop my notes!" The raptors didn't seem to care either way. She bent to gather up some fallen papers.

Ruran blinked. How bold! He released his blade and bent to help retrieve her papers. "I--did not see any catch in the breeze. Are you certain you are all right? That was--quite a fall."

"Yeah, Pops says I have a thick head," she smiled, looking back over her shoulder at him. The pack of raptors, at the least, seemed to lose interest and began to leave the way they came. The papers were covered with various notes and sketches of animals, some not from the Shroud. As he helped, she continued, "Thanks Mister Wailer... that's a funny outfit for a Wailer. Did they get new uniforms?"

"Oh, I am--not a Wailer." His head shook, stacking the papers he had collected neatly in his hands. Even if they weren't in order, at least he could make them orderly. "Just a passerby. These notes..." His head tilts. "You research monsters?"

"You're not?" she blinked, tapping her cheek as if to gesture to his mask. But she was over it fairly quickly. It seemed she didn't linger on things, and had already accepted his answer. "Yeah! Behavior, migratory patterns, stuff to watch out for, stuff like that! Helps the Clan and companies out, you know, when they send hunters out. Doesn't do anyone good to go in blind."

"That--seems like dangerous work," he replied, a concerned air to his tone, the frown ever-present. He returned the papers to her. "But you seem to know what you are doing, or how to handle yourself." He idly motioned to the hissing raptors in question. "Ah--my name is Ruran, by the by. Ruran Vas."

"It can be!" she certainly did not deny it. Taking the papers from him, she tucked the stack into a well-worn journal and back into a pouch at her hip. "Oh... hi! I'm Penny. Well, Penelope. Penelope Wright. But Penny's easier, yeah?" She pointed to her chocobo, "And that's Beans. Don't mind him." As if understanding, the bird gave a low sounding kweh and turned his back on them.

Ruran dipped his head in greeting to the chocobo, polite even though his back had turned. "Penny. Beans." He echoed. "A pleasure to meet you both. Ah--I still do not like the way those raptors are looking at you. Perhaps we ought to move elsewhere?"

Penny glanced up at the lingering beasts, stuck out her tongue and then nodded. She reached over and grabbed Beans' reins to tug him along. "Thanks again, Mister Ruran. What are you doing out here besides passing by? You don't look like the normal type of people I see out about on the roads. Oh, ah---" she waved a hand frantically as they walked, "Not saying you're not normal of course!"

Ruran lifted a dismissive hand as he followed along. "It is alright. I am--well, I am attempting two things, truly." His voice was quiet, much of it lost behind the mask, though it was clear and loud enough to hear. "I am running an errand, trying to find a plant... I need samples, and...I wish to record it in my own book." He gently motioned to the book tucked under his arm.

"Samples? Of plants?" Penny hummed aloud, leading them away from the hillside and more into the open clearing. "Are you an alchemist? A botanist? Mm... most botanists I know don't wear armor though?" She eyed his book curiously. "Maybe I can help? I grew up in the Shroud, I know more about beastkin than plants but I know my way around!"

"I am n-neither," he mumbled sheepishly. "I am a voidhunter, this is just, uh...a hobby." He rubbed the side of his neck. "The errand I run is for a alchemist, however." Stopping, he opened the book and flipped through its pages. They were filled to the brim with information--flora and fauna alike. And geography. Landmarks. A bit of everything. "It is..ah, here." He pulled out a paper clipping, a small sketch of a flower with purple leaves. "This is what I seek."

Penny made a sound of amazement, lips parting a bit, "A voidhunter? Wow! Now that sounds like dangerous work. Are you a famous adventurer, Mister Ruran? A hero?!" Her hands clasped over either of her cheeks. It wasn't at all mocking, she was genuinely amazed. She took a moment to peek at the sketch, tilting her head. "I think I have seen that before."

"Oh, no--no, not at all." He waved his hand to dismiss the notion. "I am--not anyone important, truly. But you--have seen this?" He peeked up to her. "Is it near here..?"

She blew a raspberry with her lips, "Everyone is someone important, Mister Ruran. If you fight off those scary things, that's pretty special. Wow! I did not expect to meet a famous hero when I woke up today! Isn't that the bee's knees, Beans?" She jogged a few steps ahead, tugging the reluctant chocobo behind and waving Ruran along, "Yeah! I think I saw some down by the river."

Ruran's jaw shifted as if he was going to object, but he let out a sigh instead. However, his sheepish mood was quick to depart once they had a clear way to go. "The river," he said, brows rising. "It is fortunate you stumbled into my path--w-well, not fortunate that you stumbled, but...ah, you know what I mean..."

Penny laughed, ending it with a bit of a snort, "Oh, you mean 'cause I fell? That was a good one, Mister Ruran! I fall all the time honestly, but it's not often I fall and make a new friend out of it."

____________________

With @weepingknight​

[a-memory-of]

Ruran Vas was seated not too far from Ellere's home in the Mist. He had abandoned his armor, and one thin hand idly picked the other as he stared up at the sky. The fireworks had just begun, the fresh evening air breezing off the ocean ahead. A warm light occasionally flit at his chest, and a small glass bottle of mead rested beside him.

Ellere Valahan climbed the stairway near her home a few minutes into the nightly fireworks display. She had a book tucked under one arm, likely returning from reading down by the beach now that the sun had set. The figure did not catch her eye at first, and then she realized who it was. "Ruran? Goodness dear, what are you doing out here?" Ruran's head rose as the familiar voice reached his ears. He turned and looked over his shoulder, and his hand lifted in a small gesture of greeting. "I came to...see the fireworks," he murmured, glancing toward them. "And to think. And to...see you, afterwards." He peeked towards the book in her hand, then back up, but didn't say anything about it.

She rose a brow, but offered a smile, genuinely glad to see him despite her surprise. "Oh? In that order? Want me to head home and let you think first?" She teased, walking over to the railing where he was sitting.

"O-oh--n-no, of course not," he said while giving his head a small shake, ever serious, the tease going right over his head. He fidgeted in his spot. "Have you...been well..?"

Ellere laughed, shaking her head. Of course he would take her at her word. Moving closer, she leaned on the railing, setting the book down. "Well enough. Thankfully not too busy to catch up on some reading. Though the beach gets a little crowded this time of year, quite understandably." Ruran nodded. "That is why I am up here," he murmured in agreement, his brows furrowing. He then reached up to scritch at his shoulder, looking back to the fireworks. "I like to...use Moonfire Faire as a...day of remembrance, of sorts. ... A personal tradition of mine." Whether it was a healthy tradition or not, based on the alcohol beside him, who knew.

Ellere had likely noticed the alcohol, but she was not one to judge such things. "Ah," she hummed again, sliding up on the railing before swinging her legs around to the other side with him. "I suppose it does mark the nearing of... well. A time you would reflect on."

He extended a hand to help her up, but she had managed well enough on her own. He dared not mention the height. He nodded quietly. "It...it is, yes." His voice had lowered to a mumble, and he reached for the bottle beside him. He didn't take a swig of it yet, but it gave his hands something else to fidget with. "Each time I see the fireworks, I know another year has passed. I think of the past year and...how things have changed."

Ellere kept her eyes on him or the night sky and fireworks. She was well aware of the height, the pains of living on a hill as she did, but she was getting better ignoring it with a distraction and good conversation. "I would say they have changed for the better. Stumbling upon you up here rather than some lonely old lichyard like I did all those years ago is certainly an improvement." She paused, looking back at the lights in the sky, "Do you not think so?"

_____________________

With @weepingknight​

His brows knit as his gaze moved to the bottle. "An improvement, yes... I find myself thinking of my past less and less, and...more on present things." He side-glanced to her and back again. "Last year, you...hid messages for me. Surprised me with a picnic. You...helped me realize that there are better things than wallowing. ...Although I still do wallow, just a little." He gave the bottle a little wiggle for context.

She bumped her shoulder against his lightly, and clicked her tongue, "We all wallow a bit, dear. I certainly am not about to cast judgment on you for that. I might actually be more worried if you tried to tell me you were fine, considering." She reached up and rubbed his back for a moment, "And I am glad you remember that so fondly. We can always have more picnics."

Ruran let out a soft breath. "I would like that. While we--still have time." His shoulders subtly fell as the crestfallen thought washed over him. His eyes turned back to the bottle, then up at the fireworks. "To think that...this will likely be the last year I see this..."

Ellere felt her smile slip, and dropped her eyes to her lap. It was always a struggle to find words to say. Denying the fact it could be, or saying that it did not have to be were both risks to his already heavy heart. "...What would you do if if it was not?"

His eyes went distant as he thought. "... If not, then...my mission would not be complete. I would have to keep going..." It seemed he couldn't imagine a world where he wasn't duty-bound. "I cannot imagine that it would take me another year, though."

Her smile was sad, and she let out a breath through her nose. Hearing that he had no dreams left for himself was always difficult. "Would it be such a shame to keep going, I wonder...? I remember what you said in my kitchen that night, but I did not wish to believe you were so keen on embracing the end." Ruran swallowed thickly, and he tipped up his mask just enough for a sip from the bottle. He allowed the taste to linger on his tongue as he thought. "I am...not embracing it. Not exactly. I do not...think I ever was, no matter how much I tried to convince myself." His attention turned to the lights crackling in the sky. "But my mission is...much bigger than I am. My wants pale in comparison to the purpose I can offer the realm..."

Ellere hummed to herself, "It eases me to know that at least, perhaps, you are not tired of living. There was... a moment I thought I had lost you, already and too soon." She was wringing her fingers together. "When you talk like that, I do not have to wonder why such a purpose was given to you, and yet..."

"I apologize," his quiet voice began. "I was...so hurt, so bitter, that I...I allowed a darkness in my heart to fester." He frowned behind his mask. "You...helped me with that, too. I needed...time, and gentleness--you showed me both. I never...properly thanked you, before I disappeared again..." "You do not have to apologize, nor do you have to thank me. You know this," she sighed, glancing to him while fireworks reflected across her glasses. "I have asked you many times before to come to me when you are hurt, share it. I only wish I could shield you from it all."

He nodded solemnly. "I...--" He paused, uncertain which words to say. "There are none who...have done as much as you have, for me. Even when it is difficult, and I am...grateful for you." The stone flickered against his chest, and Ruran reached to put an arm around her. "You say I do not have to thank you, but I ought to. And I wish to."

Ellere's eyes widened a touch, and she dropped her eyes for a moment before braving to meet his again. "Just as you have. Though, I know you are far too stubborn to agree," she leaned against him in the half embrace. "You are a good man, Ruran Vas. I am... glad I was given the chance to know you."

"...A-and I you," was all he managed to speak before a touch of emotion caught the edge of his voice. He stifled it by clearing his throat. Ari'doram's light flit again. "You made my days lighter. N-no matter how far I wander, I...always find my way back here. We ought to...make the most of the days I have left..."

Ellere swallowed, then let her head slowly rest against his shoulder to watch the fireworks again. "A-Aye... I can agree to that. Any lingering wants? Places you want to see, or see again? I will do whatever I can to see it through."

"I want to...spend more time in the Shroud," he quietly considered, trying not to think of the future that lay too far ahead. "A-and I...would like to go to Ishgard again." He didn't say why. Hesitantly, he allowed his head to rest against hers.

"Ishgard? 'Tis been a long time since I have been so far north myself," she hummed, likely already making itineraries and arrangements in her head. "I am sure I can arrange that quaint cabin again. Though I shall not promise my fishing will have improved."

Ruran gently shook his head atop hers. "Your fishing was fine. You caught one, did you not?" His tone had lightened as he thought of it. "That cabin would...be very nice..."

"My face certainly did," she gave a light chuckle. Her hand turned, offering it to him. "Then you need only say when you are ready. I shall handle the rest. I promise that to you Ruran, whatever time the Twelve grace us with, I will strive to make it happy."

"...Thank you, Ellere," he murmured. His free hand took hers, and he laced their fingers together. "I shall let you know. For now, this...--sitting here, like this, with you... It is more than enough."

Ellere let her eyes close, despite the colorful show in the sky, and she merely took in the feeling. "'Tis more than enough for me, too..."

[a-memory-of]

Inheritance: Boiling the Bounty

With an over-abundance of crab meat, a small celebratory feast was held at the Broken Horn to keep group morale high. While cooking for customers was nothing new for Arshtat Ejinn, cooking for such a large group on such short notice was a bit different. Thankfully, Romimo Romi and Vieaux Valintaire were kind enough to help prepare the meal.

They say cooking brings people together, and it was proven to be true. The three ladies had a chance to get to know one another a little better while they prepared the meal for the hungry mercenaries. Various dishes with crab meat as the main ingredient were prepared, ranging from a spicy stir fry served over rice, to fried crab cakes, a hearty seafood stew. 

Romimo also brought a bit of Goblin cheese as a gift, and Arshtat, determined not to let the gift go to waste, later made a crab and cheese dip likely only really to be enjoyed by their new Goblin friends. That smell isn’t leaving the Horn’s kitchen any time soon.

With @romimoblr and @eggplant-xaela