Romani Montclaire - The night it all changed (CoI) (4/30)

[21:42] Asta returns the smile, almost completely mirroring Nebula's.

"I was not actually invited here, per say," she says, extending her finger up to the air so that a strange, butterfly-like spirit would land and rest upon it, wings flapping as fast as a hummingbird's.

"I just decided to stop by to pay my respects."

She directs her attention to the strange, misty-white, transparent being.

"It is a shame I was not at the Spire, yes? I would have single-handedly turned the tide of the battle... but at least you lot handled nicely without Myllenoran aid!"

She chuckles. There was a clear touch of spite in there, easily recognizable from one passive-aggressor to another.

"I have come baring a gift for yourself and Alexander."

She extends her left hand up toward the Queen. She held two strange seeds in her hand. In an instant, as if watching something grow in fast-forward, the seeds explode into perfectly-ripe, moist cabbage. Vines and leaves from the plant droop down from her hand.

The two heads of cabbage are stacked neatly atop one another in her grasp.

"Customary in Myllenoris," she says.

"The couple will feast upon a head of cabbage. This enhances virility and ensures a powerful heir-to-be shall be made."
(Asta Hargrave)
[21:47] "Ah. It looks like your leash on him has loosened up."

Who she was referring to should have been clear enough. "I am new to my role. Whereas some may ignore what he's saying... I might just find it to be enough of a reason to strip him of his privileges and titles," Funny how things turned grim all so quickly. "I have a lot I still need to learn, after all." What a great excuse.
And just as Asta's nature magic ripened the seeds, Nebula's own causes them to rot and decay within the Teraphim's hand. The natural course of plants, life-- and perhaps more. It leaves a sticky pile of messy goo in the hands of the High Lady.

"Perhaps it is best if you don't stay. You said it yourself. You were not invited."

The smile never once falters, its toxicity spreading within the room. "Go on now. You know the way, yes?"
(Nebula rei Petrakis)
[21:54] To deny the great gift of the Cabbage of Consummation...

It was not even disrespectful, though it certainly should have been. It was just sad. It's evident enough in the shocked look in Asta's face that she completely took her off guard!

She lets the goopy cabbage drop down to the floor and stares down at it sadly.

"Oh."

She then looks up at Nebula, smiling again. Though it is clearly uncomfortable.

It seems like something has either snapped or clicked in her mind, at this very moment.

Her eyes turn white, again. Glow with incredible spectral energy. The spirits mulling about the room all stop.

They turn, at once.

To stare upon the Queen. Completely still.

She begins to peer into Nebula's very body with her superhuman eyes. Attempt to probe the barrier of her raw soul with some form of unseeable magic that was unknown to humanity.

The High Lady is invading the Queen's mind and body to try to read her look a book. Perhaps, just to send a message that she could do this.

But an accomplished mage like Nebula could surely resist this.

"We'll..."

The spirits around the room disappear in a haze of spectral mana, one by one.

"Be going." She turns toward Regulus and shoots him a quick glare.
(Asta Hargrave)
[22:07] The nobleman's hearing was good enough to hear what was being said, naturally. He waited for his wife's response before rising to his feet from the chair. Rather than moving over to depart with her, however, he stepped past her to face Nebula. His expression was impassive, years of practice resulting in a masterful pokerface, although Asta would surely understand his current emotional state.

When he speaks, its soft, and calm.

"I would be very careful what you say. A King marrying a commoner is one thing. Said commoner threatening a Lord with revocation of titles is quite another. You don't have that power, and even if you did, imagine the public fallout. How the rest of the nobility who keep this Empire running smoothly would react to the Lord of one of the four great Houses of Esshar being stripped of rank for something that most of them would be saying themselves."

His eyes flickered over to Alexander.

"I've advised you for years, done my part in keeping your Kingdom from collapsing in the aftermath of a war, forged a peace between Osrona and Myllenoris with my willingness to sacrifice my personal happiness for duty. I gave you an out to this very situation months before your marriage. I've supported your reign as best I can. This is the gratitude I receive?"

Despite his placid, calm demeanour, it was clear he was anything but.
(Regulus ven Grimmore)
[22:12] Alexander had been preoccupied with the guests north but to say he missed the spirits was flat-out wrong. The way they hover around the room, causing ruckus.
.. However only when Asta's eyes glow a deep white and the spirits start to turn is when the King makes his presence known.

While Asta could control spirits, the Petrakis controlled time itself. It sat in his hand alone. And time knew no bounds. Now was no different.

The spirits freeze in spot, not even having the chance to face the newly wed Petrakis Queen.

And the High Lady would find her body stiff, slowing, decaying magics falling upon her. A sheen of magic explodes out from the King's blade, covering it within a thick, white cosmic glow that radiates something more than just magical potency.

He points it forward firmly. When the Crown of Aschea was used for evil and against someone close to him there was no other choice.

The Sword of the Stars.

Even now, everyone in the room would feel the time begin to freeze, even the Petrakis himself whose actions seem abnormally fast.

"Osrona."

Today they would not have the chance to slay a dragon. But to stop a tyrant.

"Capture High Lady Asta and remove the Crown of Aschea from her head."

That order alone spoke volumes of Alexander's character. Those close to him knew he was fiercely protective but the extent of which only becomes clear now. Lord Grimmore is ignored wholly.
(Alexander rei Petrakis)
[22:19] The High Lady could stare from dawn to dusk. The famed spectral sight of her kind could only see as much as Nebula allowed it to-- and at this moment? It was denied any sort of inner sight. The queen valued her privacy, blocking Asta off quite naturally.

She could stare, witness and admire Nebula for as long as she wanted. But today, that was all she'd be allowed to do.

"Farewell-"

Ah, but he had to speak up. A shame. But Nebula did warn his wife...
His leash should've been kept tighter.

"I am your Queen, Regulus. House Grimmore is loyal to the crown first."

He stepped forth, and so did she.
The difference between them?

She was born a commoner. The grace and tact most nobles possessed was not something Nebula was blessed with. Her arm is raised to slap him on his cheek, likely turning his head away and leaving a red mark then and there.

"If you'd like to test just how much this commoner can do, then by all means, do."

The declaration from the king comes next, Nebula momentarily turning to face him. ..Did he really just say that? She is likely as surprised as everyone else. The last thing she expected was...

Well.

This.
(Nebula rei Petrakis)
[22:21] Finley blinked,

and what had started as a case of bad manners turned into another issue entirely.

Orders were given by none other than the king himself to remove the crown from Asta's head, an act that the Mistseer knew the High Lady would be unlikely to react to willingly.

Eyes narrowed and from the side he had stepped off to in order to avoid whatever small spat he expected to occur Finley reemerged, hands held up as if to ease the tension that had suddenly snapped.

"Hold a moment, if you would, King Alexander." Finley turned in place, keeping his left hand toward the king and Nebula while his right turned toward Asta. The palm facing the High Lady was notably not made of flesh, but solid crystal, and though it held the same sort of pause as his other, frost had begun to collect along its surface.

"Lady Asta would remove her crown of her own volition. It carries no such power over her. For whatever doubts you hold in her, you know my counsel is true to a fault."

The Mistseer turned to the High Lady.

"..Lady Asta.. don't listen to the shades. Listen now only to me. And remove the crown slowly."
(Finley)
[22:23] The room grows dim in response to Alexander's words. Lights are, instantly, snuffed out.

Spectral energy begins to radiate from out the Crown of Aschea, the relic of solid arcanium. And seated on it, the physical, literal corpse of a Goddesss.

The Overseer. Crown of Aschea.

An incorporeal wind begins to pick up, shifting her robes and hair about.

"Any who touch me, or my husband, die today."

A shield of ruby crystals form all around her, bursting through the floor and earth of the castle.

Her eyes turn to Finley.

"I have come here a peaceful guest. I have done nothing violent against the Crown of Esshar. And I'm threatened-?" Her eyes narrow into a glare.

"Why would I comply with the King's outrageous orders? Besides. He did not order me to do anything. He ordered his people to remove my crown by force."

Thump.Thump.

Thump.

There's a strange sound emanating from Asta's body. Not a sound, but rather, some noise directly injecting itself into the minds of all those present.

The High Lady of Myllenoris.

Undefeated in battle.

Would anyone step forward and attempt to remove the Crown forcefully?

"We are leaving. Stop us, and you die. It is this simple."
(Asta Hargrave)
[22:25] It was far from anything that would be expected.

In fact, for a few moments, Romani is stunned to near freezing.

The eyes of the Priest, ever slightly watching what was going on, absolutely focused when Alexander spoke of capturing Asta. His gaze widens in seconds towards that, snapping to the king in that moment. A small swallow within his throat.

Time magic, used upon the High Lady of Myllesoris, the blade of the king pointed towards Asta, and time both seemed so slow and so fast that moment. A small breath inwards.

"I hope that you know what you are asking for."

And yet, he did not freeze. Holy magic would be used, coming to Romani's fist as, Under Alexander's orders, he would move forwards to engage, stopping only as Finley spoke. The Priest would not attack if there was any chance for a peaceful resolution, and since one had been slightly offered...

A last pause as Asta speaks her words. Instead of chasing her, Romani would stare towards Finley.

"She seems to refuse. Will you defend her then?"
(Romani cos Montclaire)
[22:30] "You would comply to show them you are not whatever they think you are. You would comply to show them what you've showed those in Myllenoris who held similar doubts. You would comply so that they may see what I saw."

Finley was tense. He had not expected such a situation to unfold, and yet here it was. A bad nightmare, something he felt collapsing at any second with any wrong move.

He frowned, looking around the room.

Marie, Romani, Seigfried,
fellow members of the Aegis that he himself was still a member of-
a bade he bore on his own cloak even now.

But only as an honorary member.

He had never been a knight, and even when inducted he had made his ultimate loyalty known; a loyalty to the Vale that superseded all others.

"Threatened after you've frightened them, my Lady. The humans don't understand. Don't give into the anger."

He didn't know what to say to Romani's question, an inquiry that echoed in his head for several moments after the Priest had spoken it. It felt like a dagger in the side, but Finley knew it wasn't a betrayal, even if it hurt as much as one. He could not fault any of those he called friends for staying loyal to their king.

"Alexander." he said without turning his eyes from Asta. "Please allow me this moment to speak with her. We don't need bloodshed. We don't need violence. She's a woman."

"Not a monster."
(Finley)
[22:31] He's struck by Nebula, too fixated on Alexander to even notice it, let alone dodge. Her words are heard, but in the absent, peripheral sense, as Alexander's declaration's weight settles on the room. His eyes widen, head turning from Asta to Alexander in turn. He seems to be trying to figure out who to speak to, but with Asta's words his mind is made up.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?!"

His voice is directed at Alexander, a instinctive reaction of illusion causing it to boom louder than it otherwise would have.

"The people have had enough war, and you seek to provoke another?! Alexander, see reason!"

Even as he said it, he'd begun inching back from the rest of them, closing the distance between him and his wife.

He'd hoped that the time where he'd never have to make a choice would not come, but here they'd forced his hand.

Naturally, as the rest of the situation had spiralled out of control, he'd not bothered to respond to Nebula.
(Regulus ven Grimmore)
[22:41] Where lights are snuffed out, Alexander's blade seems to glow that much brighter.

"This isn't war. You said it yourself, Lord Grimmore. The only thing stopping Asta from wrecking havoc on Osrona is you. And when she uses that crown against my own citizen? That proves even you can not stop her."

"Even now she results to violence and death like at her own wedding."

The Petrakis keeps his gaze forward on Asta. Perhaps Serea would have been better here because unlike her, Alexander acted. Just like against the dragon and now.

"The order is final. Del, Ophelia, carry the wounded aside. Romani, do not let anyone die. The First Light, capture her. Marie, you know what to do."

He orders around the battle positions, giving people space to group out. While a wedding was no place for this, this was the final straw, perhaps not something everyone else had seen but this had been a long time coming.

And finally, to the Teraphim.

"You have thirty seconds, Finley. But she is not leaving this room with that crown. It will go to another Teraphim," and, to punctuate his point. "Take off the crown, Asta Hargrave and you can leave here peacefully." His eyes need no special magic to pierce through Asta, they do it with sheer gaze alone.
(Alexander rei Petrakis)
[22:48] The order was final. A small nod would be given by Romani at that, not question what was said. If it was the right thing, if it was the wrong thing, that did not enter even slightly into his mind. Instead, holy magic would just begin to wrap around him, as he nodded.

"As you command, King Alexander. I will endeavor to do my best to ensure nobody dies."

Holy light would build up around him, surrounding his hands in those golden sacred fists. The sun and moon eyes closed as he took a deep breath in.

"Guardian of Ios, offer to me your assistance." It might be unneeded, but the massive statue of holy magic, an essence to protect, would form around the Priest.

"If any attempt to kill, I will interfere. If any First Light members are captured, I will interfere. Until the resolution of this situation, I will remain at the ready.
(Romani cos Montclaire)

[22:48] Thirty seconds.

Of all the thoughts in Finley's head at the moment, a prominent regret of being unable to turn around to thank the king floated by. The soft glow to his crystal right hand brightened some as Finley stared only toward his direct superior. An ebbing forth of some cold mana came nearer the High Lady, a magic that brought with it spirits that would quiet the others in her mind. Finley had yet to show much of his own mastery of the spirit realm's influence in the public eye of Myllenoris, but here he would ensure only his advice and his words would emanate with honesty and good will within the echoes the crown received.

"You promoted me for all I've done throughout the years, Lady Asta. You've listened to my advice on some occasions and rejected it on others. But you know-"

"You know-"

"That I will only ever speak the truth."

Finley's frown deepened, for he of all people knew how difficult it was to convince Asta while she was set down a path, especially one involving anger and pain. He wanted to plead with her not to force him to turn on all those present he had called friends. The Teraphim wanted enough time to explain to her why it was such a bad idea to harm anyone here.

But the clock ticked away.

"If there was ever a time to listen to my advice, it is now. Remove the crown from your head, please. My Lady."

Finley could only hope he spoke as true as Savael once did, as the spirits in her ears might. He could only hope she heard those spirits of truth that now resided at Finley's side.
(Finley)
[22:51] The nobleman's expression is a mixture of panic and incredulity. Surely Alexander realised what he was doing? Even so, he felt the need to reiterate it, in the desperate hope of avoiding this eventuality.

"The crown is the marker of the rightful ruler of Myllenoris, and you've ordered her capture. You're ordering the assault of the essential Queen of Myllenoris, Alexander. Make no mistake, if you go through with this it is a declaration of war!"

The treaty was collapsing around his ears.

"I told you while I served Osrona there was no risk of Asta beginning a war. I didn't say that was the only reason she wasn't! Stop this Alexander, whilst you still can!"

Finally, his head whipped towards Finley, voice softer.

"The Crown has no hold on her Finley, it hasn't for over a year. But much like me, she will not stand for her life, or mine, being threatened."

Attention returned to the rest, even as the shadows around the room began to warp towards him. Not much, barely perceptibly in fact, but just in anticipation. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but at this point...

He doubted it.


(Regulus ven Grimmore)
[22:55] It was a tad bit too late for Asta to warn Nebula about physical touch. She had touched Regulus already, and she had no plans to die today. Especially not here.

The queen cared not for the crown or petty insults, but rather, the fact that the lord of a house was willing to toss it all away for a foreign leader of a different kingdom. It was disrespectful. .. In ways she couldn't possibly explain. She was willing to allow them both to walk away, until Regulus opened his mouth.

Until Alexander decided for the both of them that this insolence will not tolerated. They've come into a foreign court, uninvited, to talk badly of the union between herself and Alexander. Why would anyone expect this to go any different?

Vines writhe bellow, burrowing beneath the castle to reach the person who had summoned them. It takes them only another moment before they rise and break through the tiles, making their presence known.
"You should listen to him, Asta. I would if I were you."

The hand of the Petrakis queen is raised, the vines standing guard. The spark of combat was bound to come should the Hargrave not comply with Alexander's demand, and all Nebula could do now... Was wait.

She waits as her thumb rubs against her index digit, anxious to see what the High Lady would decide.
(Nebula rei Petrakis)
[22:56] Asta's eyes squint into a narrow, focused glare. Her inhuman pupils constrict into impossibly-thin slits. Bothe eyes, focused on Finley. Largely ignoring everyone around her. If any were foolhardy enough to charge her, they'd be eviscerated by her field of ruby.

Thirty seconds.

"He doesn't understand that nobody but myself can wear this crown and live," she says. "It's not some fake, superficial bauble like his own crown."

She raises her left hand up to the air, and the Crown of Aschea atop her head fades away in a mist of mana.

It appears in Finley's grasp.

And instantly, his mind is invaded by a harsh cacophony of spirits, angered by the sudden exchange.

Words begin to spill out into the room. Dozens of voices, primal. Enraged.

WHY. WHY. WHY. HOW. WHERE. OUR MOTHER. WHY. WHY OUR MOTHER. WHY ASCHEA. WHY.

It's mostly nonsensical questions repeated again and again, but it is clear that some form of supernatural forces were greatly disturbed by what was happening.

And it was reflected in the death glare of the High Lady.

"I don't need the Crown, nor Aschea, to carve through all of your Knights."

She folds her arms.

"So go ahead. Betray your words, and order your people to attack. You know you want to. It is the human in you, the petty human, that yearns to."
(Asta Hargrave)
[23:04] The crown is suddenly within Finley's grasp, appearing there in the palm of his crystal hand, the solid gem fingers wrapping around its edge with speed and delicate motion. Almost immediately there was an obvious change, not only with the room being filled with the echoes, but in the young Teraphim who now held the sacred artifact.

The glow to his right forearm darkened to a grim violet, only to counteract itself into a brilliant blue. Finley grit his teeth, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead as he grappled over the weight the crown carried with it. His left hand came around, not to hold the relic, but to clutch the inner part of his opposing arm.

"Don't harm her." he called out, his voice louder and more firm than it had ever been within the walls of Osrona, perhaps even more than it had ever been on Esshar's soil.

"Let it end here."

He knew this was already the end to an era of neighborly peace between the kingdoms. The spirits that now coiled and hissed in his ears flashed a vision of those burning ships outside of Starfall, of bridges quite literally crumbling and burning away.

"Go."

he said to Asta, daring in this moment to command her, even if the word was an obvious plea.
(Finley)
[23:08] The gold and blue eyes would stare towards Finley, giving him a small nod as the Teraphim received the crown. There is a single swallow from the Priest, turning a small bit, if only to hold both Alexander and Asta in his gaze at once.

"She has given the crown to Finley. You asked for it to be removed from her head."

"What are our current orders, King Alexander?"
(Romani cos Montclaire)
[23:27] "When my people are put under foul magics and their lives not considered then I act." A short few words to Ophelia. References to the fake holy-wars, the pull-out of the Siege. The King could not imagine walking up to someone and shooting time magic in their face, yet time and time again Asta seemed to push her bounds.

"Even now, without the crown, you still talk of murder. I am starting to think the person that wants nothing more than murder and bloodshed is yourself. I still remember what you said. And now I have a reply. Do not corrupt your own crown," eyes on Asta - a callback to their previous conversation, the exchange of the crown not unnoticed. Nor Finley's pleas. Blue eyes catch it, but he has his blade trained, focused like a laser.

"Lord Grimmore. Your final act between Myllenoris and Osrona relations will be a peaceful transfer of power. Write it down now. And then once you are finished, you can join your wife who will be waiting outside the city. For I have no trust that she will not take her rage out on my citizens. After that, you can both retire peacefully with your daughter."

With that said, he spares a glance to Asta Hargrave, then his Knights. She had the chance to leave peacefully and it was the final order he would bark.

"Go, Asta Hargrave. And do not threaten my people again."
(Alexander rei Petrakis)
[23:31] While Finley and Kofe jointly struggle against the Crown's influence, Asta cracks a strange smile and waves her hand in the air dismissively.

She turns around, faces the three knights to the south.

"Well, Finley, I will see you back in Myllenoris," she says.


"You can hand me the crown when we're home."

She looks over her shoulder at Finley, a look of concern spared toward her Mistseer. She knew that he probably was not taking the relic very well.
(Asta Hargrave)
[23:32] Romani cos Montclaire asks, "Reese, would you do me a favor and retreive a piece of paper?"
[23:32] Reese Ambrose says, "--oh, sure! I'll be back."
[23:33] Reese forks over the paper.
(Reese Ambrose)
[23:34] Romani cos Montclaire says, "Thank you."
[23:34] {Item} You picked up Paper (Blank). Dropped by Reese Ambrose. .
[23:34] Reese Ambrose says, "I brought an extra piece, should y'end up needin' it too."
[23:34] Romani cos Montclaire says, "I appreciate that."
[23:41] The alternating glow within the Teraphim's crystal forearm continued, a visual example of the ever present swinging pendulum of light and darkness that existed within the arcanium circlet. The veins in Finley's organic arm were strained, his grasp shaking, as he continued to keep his hold as the only person within the room who could even likely touch Aschea's crown.

It was only by the touch on his shoulder that there came a change, and though the Mistseer could not take his eyes from his target, a very forced and almost growled smile appeared on his face, the kind of rare sight that only few had seen before. It was just as strange as any of Finley's smiles, and though it was meant to be comforting, it likely came across more as something else entirely, given the gritted teeth and light snarl on his face.

But Kofe's music filled his senses, and just as Finley's magic had done a small part in anchoring Asta'smotives away from those of the shadows, the bard's tune did its job. Finley's crystal arm's pattern slowed in its tempo, until it came to a stop and settled on a low indigo, a compromise between whatever phantoms and powers were not filtered away by the song.

"Th-thank. You. K-kofe." he hissed through his teeth, still battling with the crown, even if the fight was coming to something of a steady close. It's weight would not leave his mind, it's power was not so easily banished. And its curse was not so easily ignored.

Finley's left arm finally released his right, if only to bring his cloak over his front so that he could stow the crown within it and away from sight. He held it there, as if he was clutching some wound at his side, and somehow appeared paler than before. Asta's words were heard, but the Mistseer could do little to respond aside from a single nod.

No matter what Regulus said next, no matter what Osrona declared, both Teraphim present knew that no words or official papers could change the course of the Vale, for its decisions were not those to be made by men.

The High Lord would only ever be chosen by spirits.
(Finley)
[23:42] There's a moment of complete and utter silence from the Nobleman at Alexander's demand. And then, slowly, he shakes his head.

"The only person not considering the lives of their people is you. You have no authority to demand a Myllenoran succession, as it is an independent Kingdom. You act in a manner that demands conflict. I taught you better than that."

He reaches into his coat, produce a pin with the symbol of Osrona upon it. His badge of office as Royal Spymaster. Its tossed at the King's feet.

"I hope you understand what you're doing here Alexander. You've broken an alliance and cast out one of your closest supporters at the same time." His eyes briefly flickered over to Nebula. "For her. Destroyed the work of the past six years, over a woman. And to think I thought you a better king than your father."

He looked over at those assembled.

"This is what I warned against. What I have struggled against. Consider your choices carefully, all of you."

He glanced over to Ophelia.

"Good luck, Ms Soleis. With a King so determined to break a treaty, you're going to need it."

He stepped back to his wife, illusionary magic twisting around him to display a normal appearance whilst he began to silently shift his fingers in the correct tuts to begin preparing several magical circles. Nothing any runescribe would see as aggression, if they could see through the illusion. Glyphs shaped with his fingers that seemed to suggest some sort of safety for a journey, even if no mana shimmered forth. That would come at the end.

"Osrona has no right to decide Osrona suggestion, and I'll not insult the spirits by suggesting they do."


(Regulus ven Grimmore)
[23:50] "An alliance that was a farce."

"A treaty that was only respected when it was convenient for Myllenoris."

If he was going to mention it, then so will she.

Alexander allowed Asta to leave, and frankly-- Nebula cared not for if it was with the crown or without. She knew it wouldn't strip the woman of the title, not until the Teraphim were willing to do so themselves. "One of his closest supporters... Yes, yes. We've heard plenty of your self-absorbed praise."

"And yet here you are, ready to toss your home away. Your name. Everything for a woman. Isn't that funny?"

The hypocrisy in his words.
Nebula and Alexander's marriage came from love, whereas Asta and Regulus' was only an alliance.

"She belongs in Myllenoris, I'll give you that. But you are still a citizen of Osrona, Regulus. You are still a member of the Grimmore house."

His words, his crimes, his insolence.

His punishment.

"So you will be arrested."

"A fair and just trial will be held for all to see where you've gone wrong, where you've sold your morals..."

"Arrest him."
(Nebula rei Petrakis)
[23:57] So. It was going to be a fight, after all.

She couldn't take every single one of them. She could take a fair few of them, but eventually, she would be knocked down and beaten.

"So be it. The Treaty of 1733 is now forfeit."

The High Lady raises her hand up to the air, and in an instant, the Crown of Aschea disappears from Finley's hand. Back to her head.

Her handing it over was only ever a facade. It's clear that she could just summon it back to her head at any moment. No paper, no treaty, could transfer the title of High Lord away from her. Only Aschea could. Only the spirits could.

Her voice rings out, projected with magic. It screeches, high-pitched, into the minds of all present. Like an enraged primordial beast.

"The kingdom of Myllenoris officially declares war upon the Empire of Esshar."

Without warning, the High Lady grabs Regulus' arm violently, yanks him toward her. Even with Alexander's time magic weighing her down, she manages to unleash a swift flurry of crystal spires in every direction.

Shadowy figures begin to fade into being and attack every member of the First Light, dueling them. Distracting them.

All the while, the High Lady engages anyone that attempts to block their escape.



War.
(Asta Hargrave)
[23:58] Romani attempts to fight through the appearing shadowy figures.
(Romani cos Montclaire)
[00:06] Alexander rei Petrakis has no words for what follows. He knew Asta to be evil but to blatantly declare war? Anything he would or had said is drowned out.

"Finley, stay back," a firm order.

And then the King moves forth, hand clenching air and the entire area coming into a cut-scene due to the dilation of time magics as Knights rush forward. The shadowy figures and the crystal spires start to slow, and Alexander, second of his name moves across the battle field.

"Regulus Hargrave, you dishonor your ancestors but more than that the stars," he moves from foot to foot, stepping across crystal. "Your nobility is revoked, your lands and titles."

"Osrona. Stop them."
(Alexander rei Petrakis)
[00:08] Asta called for her crown back, but before it could vanish entirely from Finley's grasp, the Mistseer's crystal hand tightened. With her words spoken aloud, another call for war that his heart very much opposed, his head began to shake in a panicked back and forth, a silent yet screamed,

NO.

Nebula called for Regulus' arrest. The knights that could moved to action did so. The people of Osrona moved to defend their people. Finley scowled, his distaste more evident with his efforts expended on maintaining his keep on the crown.

With his free hand he clutched Kofe's cloak and tugged backward, the two apparently about to collide with the floor-

only for a flash of blue light to disappear them both away.

Runic patterns of bright light encircled where the duo had fallen away, leaving nothing more than their ethereal whisper on the wind.

The crown did not appear on Asta's head.
(Finley)
[00:19] {NARRATION} Vs Asta Hargrave: Hrist, Romani, Nebula

Vs Regulus Grimmore: Andrew

Cap 3 dangerous

[00:23] Asta begins bursting through the room while her spectral allies attack and distract all the other Knights. But there stands Regulus' new Retainer...

IN HER WAY.

Without a care in the world, she waves a hand at Hrist and begins pelting her with a flurry of ruby crystals. As each whizzes by her and explodes through the stone walls, she feels a strange sensation in her body.

Like the crystal was stealing her mana.

Using the hole blown into the wall, she flees out of the castle and begins attacking her pursuer while navigating her way out of the city.
(Asta Hargrave)
[00:26] And then, she breaks. Still wordless, there's an explosion of magical energy in the young Knight. Totally untrained in magical theory, there's a burst of powerful gravitational energy from the knight. Though she was covered in flowers, it wasn't something she used in battle. Instead, it was a curse she had to endure.

She unsheaths her boar-slayer, and points it at the leader of the teraphims. This fight would be the hardest one she had ever experienced. The Lion pendant around her neck is roaring.
(Hrist)
[00:35] He was not the first one. He just hoped to be the last.

Holy magic would rapidly consume the ground, striking against those shadowy figures that Asta controlled. At the same time, he watched as the Hargrave would collide with Hrist, the Knight being beaten through her gravitation forces as he grunted. A shake of his head as the holy magic he commanded would glow brighter then it was.

"Asta Hargrave; The order was for me to ensure that no one here was killed. You were given the choice to walk out of that castle with no problem. Instead, you decided to harm the people of Orsona. My people."

"You will be allowed fair trial. But you will not be allowed to harm people endlessly unwarranted. Guardian of Ios."

The holy manifest above him floated, extending its arms to be his weapon as the fist of bravery glowed. Swaths of the shadowy figures would meet his fists, being collided with.

"I will not allow more innocent people to come to harm because of you. Not if I can help it."

"But I do give you one last offer; Stand down. There is no more need to be further violence or lives at risk through these assaults. This 'war' of yours can end in the castle, right here and now."

A moment would be taken, for her to respond. But likely? If she would not stand down, he would engage.
(Romani cos Montclaire)
[00:41] With terrifying precision and ferocity Asta just cleaves straight through Hrist without a care in the world. She conjures a giant shard of crystal and tosses it straight into Hrist's torso. It's mostly absorbed by the armor she wore, but still a nasty defeat.

Not enough to kill or maim her.

She grits her teeth. More obstacles.

"You spineless COWARD-!" the High Lady calls out. Rage in her voice.

"Your King ordered my arrest because I stared at his BRIDE the WRONG way! Your King is no King at all, attacking his guest like a coward. Twenty of you against two of us."

She bares a cruel smile.

"I'd say it was unfair... if I couldn't cleave through the lot of you with ease."

This time, she draws the greatbow at her back. As opposed to when she dispatched Hrist without a weapon.

"This is only self defense. You attack me. I attack you."

"Balanced."
(Asta Hargrave)
[00:46] {Lost Dangerous RPB against Asta Hargrave}
[00:46] ** Asta Hargrave has inflicted an injury upon Romani cos Montclaire. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **
[00:48] Outmatched, of course. Vines swarmed the walls and monuments of the ballroom, whereas Hrist could only do so much as shift about some of the stones. She plunged into the brush, slashing her sword and heaving tables, cutlery, and expensive decorations with her magical power. Death screams became her music, the odor of blood a perfume. Her sword capered like a living thing, shimmering magically as the two fought.

"I heard you'd gone mad," she huffs between blows. "But nothing like this. The Lion of Leonaus proves my victory; your own blessings are nothing in comparison."

Reversing her grip, she looped her blade in an outside swoop, as if to cut off Asta's hand. She rolled back and forth, parrying every vine in a wild frenzy of movement. Suddenly, one of Asta's arrows ducked through her guard. Torn from her grip, her katana arcs into the air. Crystal shoots up around her and Hrist looks around panicked. She ends up cornered but uninjured, surrounded by a crystalline prison of the Hargrave's making.
(Hrist)
[00:51] "I have to say... It's quite fitting."

Despite how tense the situation is, despite the fact that Nebula is chasing after the Teraphim who bested her Knights, worry does not sneak to her expression nor does it stain her features. Calm, like a sea before a storm.

"Us fighting each other, I mean. Don't you think?"

The vines aren't late to arrive, following the woman with each of her steps, regardless of the pace they took. A rose is plucked from the Queen's crown, its thorn used to make an incision on both of the Petrakis' wrists. Blood begins to flow from her wounds then and there.

"War is pointless. But if it is what you desire, Asta Hargrave, then it what you shall have."

She sucked a breath through her teeth before dashing forward, engaging the Teraphim finally.
(Nebula rei Petrakis)
[00:55] The High Lady had just finished dispatching Romani, firing an arrow directly into his leg, when the next person catches up to her. Another obstacle...

But this was no mere obstacle.

This was the CAUSE of all of this madness.

Asta ceases her fleeing to momentarily circle Nebula, an intense, almost insane look in her eyes.

"I'm going to destroy you..." she growls.

"You did this. It was you. YOU caused this!" Asta points a finger at the Queen.

"I merely attempted to see the secrets of your flesh-- your man-bride saw fit to have me assailed. Me. A guest to his own home... highest of shame."

"He may as well have declared was himself when he violated our treaty."

No more words. Asta leaps back and begins unleashing a frenzy of arrows down upon Nebula.
(Asta Hargrave)
[00:55] A coward?

"Hardly."

Ios' guardian spread it's arms, ever healing, ever protecting. He did manage to have luck, to make the leader of Myllenoris sweat, even with no weapon. Was he the strongest in Orsona? Not by far. But..

"It is not for looking at his bride the wrong way that I fight. It is because you attacked people and pit us into war." The Cruel smile is responded to with gritted teeth, fighting to the best of his capabilities. But as much as he fought?

It was never his strong suit. In fact, he was far better at things that did not require it. The great bow on her back finds purchase, or perhaps an opening.

Into his leg. A solid crystal would strike his femur, shattering it within. His mana would be drunk from like wine as he kneeled onto the ground. Not strong enough, but the wounds he lasted made him hope that others would be able to pull through. A final exhale, watching as the recently arisen queen would be the last to arrive. Digging into the ground for a few moments, he would launch himself back towards the rest of those in the throne room.

He was far too weakened to engage again, so instead he went to fall back.
(Romani cos Montclaire)
[01:41] The High Lady's crystal shrapnel does its work.

It knocks Mikael off his feet, sending painful fragments digging deep into his skin. But nothing a little bit of self first-aid couldn't handle.

"Hrist..." she exhales, hissing through her teeth.

With her every step, the world seemed to contort with the sheer magnitude of her spiritual presence. Strange shadows danced all around her. Everyone that may have been nearby would feel like they were being watched by dozens, if not hundreds, of eyes.

She reaches down to Hrist.

Grabs her by the scruff of her collar.

"WHY!" she shouts.
(Asta Hargrave)
[01:46] Nebula had the utmost confidence she could match Asta in battle.

However, fate didn't seem to share the same sentiment. The Queen was wrong. The vines that writhe about and circle the woman are barely a distraction, instead, only effective for halting Asta every now and then with her approach. Blood is shot at the woman in many different variations, spheres of it, daggers-- anything the woman could muster at the moment.

She thinks less, and does more.

For the first time in her life, she's pushed to an edge in a battle that progressively becomes only harder. Until she realizes that defeating the High Lady of Myllenoris was out of the question.

Today, she was the prey of the sleeping demon.

And lastly, the ex-bearer of Aschea's crown casts a spell on the downed, nature-magi. Its nature is unknown to her-- and of course, she has no experience tackling anything of the sort. She screams.

It hurts.

Shecan see herself dying, she can see Asta murdering every single person she cared for - a constant nightmare.

It's a miracle that Nebula can even force herself to escape, but not before shooting one last glare at the Hargrave and murmuring something under her breath. A promise that this isn't the end, and they will meet again.
(Nebula rei Petrakis)

[01:51] With the total route of the First Light against Asta Hargrave, Hrist finds herself suddenly alone, captured by the enraged servant of Aschea. She forces her eyes shut and clutches weakly at the wrought iron pendant of Leonaus she wore around her neck. Only the stars could deliver her. So fervent are her prayers, and so desperate, that the small thing starts to crumple into a single point.

As she's lifted up, beset upon by shadows and spirits, she's met with a force more foreign and more terrifying than any occultist she had yet faced. Unable to concentrate fully lest she explode, Asta is left to contend with incomprehensible religious babble instead of anything coherent. She had attacked Asta with complete clarity of purpose, and a glimmer of it was still there, but fear of her immortal soul and the imminent judgment of the stars had left her paralyzed from doing anything except recite the Codex Cosmos.


"The commands of the Divine are radiant,
giving light to the eyes.
The fear of the Divine is pure,
enduring for ever.
The ordinances of the Divine are sure,
and all of them are righteous..."
(Hrist)
[01:54] Alexander rei Petrakis finds himself watching something un-describable in the halls of the Petrakis ballroom. The last wedding could not even be considered a red wedding compared to this. Thankfully the King had enough gumption and sense to not cause this on his actual wedding day. That had taken placed on another day.

His expression rarely shows little, but now it becomes tense with rage and grief. Marie paralyzed, Ophelia and Del wishing the night had gone different and magi all estrange. Romani had even struggled and Alexander's wife laid on the ground, suffering.

Still. There was one Knight left, that had not escaped.

And that was enough reason for the Petrakis to move. Out of the way of the wraiths and all that were summoned. There would be no time to engage Asta in combat it seems with Regulus Grimmore fast approaching and the runes lighting up for a quick get-a-away.

And war could not be stopped.

But, still the King moves and his frame accelerates in a burst of time magic as the wound in his chest burns. Faster. Faster. Faster.

"Hrist!"
(Alexander rei Petrakis)
[01:59] Asta stares wide-eyed at Hrist as she recites scripture upon her.

Tears still freely rolled down her eyes. She didn't know Hrist, truly. She couldn't empathize with her human suffering. But she wept, all the same. She wept because she violently defeated Marie. Someone she could have considered... a friend.

She wept because she had to put down her own son.

She wept...

Because the images of carnage and bloodshed invaded her mind. The spirits, even without the Crown of Aschea, spoke to her. They gave her visions of death. Visions of her murdering this Cadet. Doom.

"Humans..." she says, her voice low. Pained. Whiny.

"... Are so tragic, Hrist. I'm sorry you were born a human."

Before Alexander is able to respond, Asta lays a hand on Hrist's forehead.

"Maybe... you'll be reborn as a Teraphim..."

It's over.

Hrist can feel her literal soul being coerced out of her body. It's a comforting feeling. Asta pulls Hrist close. Intimately-close. Their eyes locked together. Asta's piercing, ghost-like irises fixed on hers.

It feels like a mother's hand reaching out to help her up.

It's a hard feeling to resist.

Everyone present can see something beginning to exit Hrist's head. A wispy mist of mana.

A soul. A person.

Alexander is too late. As he approaches, slowing time down with his magic, the wisp of mana begins to float off to the sky. Off to the stars. As it ascends higher, it fades from existence...

Hrist feels comfort, warmth, as she ascends back up to the stars.

"If you weren't a human, you wouldn't have betrayed Regulus."

She closes her eyes. The last tears fall. And she begins to disappear into the breeze, leaving only particles of mana in her wake.

Gone, with some strange magic only known to Teraphim.

Like this whole time they were fighting some incorporeal being. A ghost.

Aschea herself.
(Asta Hargrave)
[02:04] Falling back, needing to catch his breath. It was hard enough to do with an arrow lodged in his femur, and the bone shattering, but it was even worse when he had to watch what happened. The soul leaving Hrist, actions of Asta.

The same way that the King was too late? The Priest failed to do his duty. At once, a feeling is gone, just sitting on his knees in the numbness. It was hard to say it was anything but the holy magic that could even help keep him breathing. Teeth grit.

War was declared. The first life was lost. His hand curls up, before slamming into the ground.

Failure, again.

One that was worse then last time.

And then, as Asta escapes, he collapses, just breathing through grit teeth.

"Not again."
(Romani cos Montclaire)
[02:15] Alexander is too late.

He sees the hand find it's way to Hrist's forehead, the words that leave Asta's lips. He can barely make them out, eyes squinting. His body shifting, jumping through the air. The wound from the Wraith causes him to jump several steps forward as if several frames in a movie fly by. But even that is not enough. Even with his time magic he could not stop time.

A hand outstretches but he is too slow when it matters. The only time it matters.

He sees it fade, that wisp of mana, Hrist's soul ascend to the stars but it does not register as real.

Asta vanishes into the breeze, leaving mere particles of mana in her wake. But if she were there, the King would have bulldozed her through. Completely. His only goal is Hrist.

Her body is gripped in a heartbeat, caught as the Petrakis flies all the way into the other side of the castle wall with a frightening crack.

The body of his Knight is cradled in his arms, held close, even despite her eyes being closed.

"Hrist," he stares at her furiously. "Hrist, wake up."
(Alexander rei Petrakis)
[02:29] Death took her unawares and Hrist's body, armor and all, falls into the arms of the King. Tall and athletic and armed in full plate, the Knight is heavy in death. Hrist is quiet now, unstirring, unmoving, as her soul separates from her body. Uninjured from the fight, and in the bloom of her youth, she makes a rather comely corpse.

With her death, the parasitic flower stuck in her bodies stirs. The color shifts, first to a pink, and then to a deep red.

Sinka is said to grow when two mages battle for their lives. The lilies, feasting on the mana of the dead Knight, now look to be red roses.
(Hrist)
[02:36] Heavy. The Knight lays cradled within the King's own armored arms for quite some time. He is so quiet that it is almost like he is not there. Her body stays still and Alexander rei Petrakis is in disbelief.

Waiting. Praying. His eyes are closed soon and no words leave his lips but prayers are thought. What had Nox said before about reaching the stars? Reaching out to them?

The flower, a small lily from the lily Knight starts to bloom, first to a pink and then a deep red. And that is around when the Petrakis' eyes open, hard but clouded and his eyebrows knit together.

"Leonaus! Do not forsake her!"

Alexander rarely lashed out as loudly as this, he kept his temperance and would not ever dare doubt the stars but now? In this moment of weakness, in seeing Hrist, someone blessed by Leonaus herself die in such a way? When Alexander should have been punished?

And then he goes silent, no response. Not even from the stars above. And then a whisper. Could he even hear it? It only comes once.

The Petrakis King sinks his head and mourns in silence.

"Hrist. I am sorry."
(Alexander rei Petrakis)
[02:46] Alexander's yell was what set her over the edge - as he yelled, to Leonaus, her voice stifled in a sob as her body heaved; tears starting to run, heavy and thick, as that ghost of failure lingered in her, so apparent and clear at the yells of her beloved cousin. Across the room, she stared, and then tried to rise - moving forward as if she was going to try to climb to her feet, and as she seemed to stand? The Princess collapsed, laying before them, with the failure of her legs becoming painfully more apparent as she tried to move.

Unable too, with useless numb legs. So instead she dragged - elbow onto the wood floor, with the arm doing its best to drag her across, pants torn to show the blue discoloration beneath. Each movement brought her closer, as she seemed determined.

It was her fault. He wailed, the faint mumble unheard but she knew the gist of it - Marie would ruin his mourning, but the agonizing dragging motion got here there, slowly but surely.

Until she stopped at the side of Alexander, struggling to roll herself, bringing her to a sitting position.

The Princess couldn't stand, she couldn't grab his shoulder, couldn't hug him to make it better; yet her hand grabbed at the flow of his cloak, tugging it down just a bit; though she didn't want his attention, she just wanted him to know she was there, feeling every bit of hurt that he was.

Tears rolling down her face at the defeat - the defeat of her, then Mikael. They were the only ones that stepped to save Hrist in that moment.

And they failed.

"I'm sorry, Alexander.. I'm so sorry.."
(Marie ras Petrakis)
[02:57] Slowly but surely, her mind is healed from the effects of the spell the Teraphim inflicted upon her mind. Del's glowing magic begins to numb the pain and slowly reverse the effects of the nightmares that took place repeatedly in front of Nebula.

They aren't real, she reminds herself.

None of this is.

And yet the pain is, and yet she sees Alexander hurt and her own heart breaks a little.

Despite the fact that the Queen isn't sure if the illusion persists or not, she can't lift her eyes from the lifeless body of Hrist and Alexander. ..It wasn't a lie. It was no longer a dream.

She is silent as tears begin to slowly stream down her cheeks.

She couldn't even say she was sorry.
She felt responsible.
(Nebula rei Petrakis)
[03:04] It is unsure how long time passes, between peoples regrets and the silence. And it is not certain if Alexander is even crying, the way his body is hunched and his face solemn, faced away from everyone there. Eventually Marie crawls forward and her hand tugs at his cape.

It reaches him. And soon, he responds.

The King's body stands, glowing a bright golden light that radiates off of his form. Cosmic magic stuck to his frame. Hrist's body, while heavy once before looks effortlessly light in Alexander's arms now.

A hand extends down to his cousin Marie and then, the poison in her legs starts to fade, decaying into mere nothingness and reversing all of the same. Time spun back abruptly and when it finishes, the majority of the poison ailment had been reversed or decayed.

His face sat stern with no tears but some sort of residue and dust on his cheeks. The Petrakis turns to address everyone else, whoever remained. Romani, Mikael, Ophelia, Cerise, Del, Marie, there was many left.

"Everyone. There are rooms in the Petrakis Castle if you need to use them. Get some rest. I will address this tomorrow. For now, mourn Hrist... Thank you for your efforts."

Perhaps he should have said more, had a better way with words but fury sat on his face and nothing else seemed relevant.

Footsteps lead him out, lest anyone had anything to say, and he takes Hrist's body to where it belonged in the Tomb of Heroes. Wordless.
(Alexander rei Petrakis)
[03:09] There's relief that washes over her face as Nebula seems better - though the tears certainly didn't help. They were all crying, in that moment, to mourn Hrist.

She died doing precisely what she had always done and it was commendable.

There's a pause however, Ophelia silently wondering if perhaps that could have been Elesius instead. Near instantly does she banish the very thought, slowly rising to her feet as she offered Nebula a hand to help her stand back up.

She felt skittish, unsure of herself. Her gaze moves about in search of Romani as well. She knew he was uninjured but... He had still lost, unfortunate as it was. There would be plenty to do tomorrow, she realized.

"... Just let me know if you have need of me," She said softly. It was the only thing she could truly do.
(Ophelia Soleis)
[03:13] Romani remains on the ground. Fists clench and unclench, teeth ever bared. He had been given one objective, and one objective only. Make sure that no one died. If he had not been so quick to fight Asta, if he had waited then maybe..

But a pipe dream, honestly. It was true, if he had waited, he might have had a chance. But at the same time, if he waited there was no guarantee. And that frustrated him, agonized him far more then the broken shards of bone that was his femur.

A last sigh breathed past his lips as he remained collapsed on the floor. Eyes were downcast, but he was still, using just the remants of holy magic to ignore what he could of the pain.

Easily enough found by Ophe, but too trapped by the torments of the mind to really speak, and torments of the body to really get up and move.
(Romani cos Montclaire)
[03:17] Perhaps it had been some sort of magic Asta cast over her, to make her think Romani hadn't been injured while she tended to the Queen. Whereas this entire time, the noble had been on the ground with a broken leg, ruminating and stewing in could haves and what ifs.

Cerulean gaze widened and instantly she found herself slipping to Romani's side, unsure of what to say. Nothing would make it seem alright in the slightest, would it? If she admitted she had earnestly thought he was okay she'd probably sound crazy.

"... Sorry I-... I didn't realize your leg," She began before just stopping. She felt atrocious.
(Ophelia Soleis)
[03:21] He was a medic, but he could not operate on himself. But he could at least use that holy magic for something. Almost rhythmically now, his hand would slam against the pavement, until knuckles were bloody, before using holy magic to negate parts of the damage, then once more slam his fist downwards, in a cycle.

Physical pain, wincing, at least it could draw him away from the momentary agony that filled his mind, or from the pain that shot through his leg.

It is only the presence of Ophelia as she crossed near him that drew him out of the endless repetition, glancing upwards towards her.

"It is fine. Are the others alright?"

It wasn't fine but... He almost preferred not being seen battered anyways.
(Romani cos Montclaire)
[03:25] Alexander spares a glance to Romani and frowns hard. There is a short whisper, a few words that only reach the priest's ears. Unfortunately he had no energy to heal the man, so as pathetic as it was, words would be the only thing he could give to the Montclaire.

There is another glance to Mikael, "As am I." His tone was harsh.

As the Petrakis nears his exit, he lowers himself slightly and brings a thumb to wipe at Nebula's tears. And then the King starts moving off. Again to put Hrist's body to rest where it belonged.
(Alexander rei Petrakis)
[03:25] Alexander rei Petrakis whispers to Romani cos Montclaire: I am sorry, Romani.
[03:28] "Um..." There's a brief pause. The others were alright - to a certain point. There's a glance to Alexander's leaving form as he carried Hrist's body off, and then back to Romani. Ophelia reaches down, in an effort to try and help Romani up, to where he could support himself on her shoulder rather easily.

"... To a point, I suppose..." She answered honestly. "As alright as they'll be able to be." Because of war. "Here - I can make a potion just, hang onto me and I'll make one. It won't take any time at all, pro--" There's a stop.

Did she have any fairy powder? Oh no.

"I.... I need to see if I have the right ingredients first..." Oh dear.
(Ophelia Soleis)
[03:31] "I am glad they are." Romani said, letting out a sigh, before a small gritting of teeth as Ophelia would help him get to his feet. A small inhale as his arm would be put around her shoulder.

"I think I could go for a healing potion, yeah." Romani let out a small laugh. "An arrow. It went through my leg. Broke bone. I think it's bleeding my mana as much as it is my blood." He said, explaining the wound quickly as he let out a sigh.

"Well, if you do not have them, I suppose I will just have to make myself a wheelchair for a while. It is not the worst of situations."
(Romani cos Montclaire)
[03:35] Money wasn't an object that Ophelia much cared about; she had thankfully remembered she had no fairy powder back home in order to a craft a potion - so the next best thing? Search the market for one, or even better, for a potion itself!

Once she finds one, it's quickly handed to Romani.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry - I really thought you were alright please forgive me!" She pleaded, the Soleis chewing on her bottom lip. Worry carried her through the market, and now that a potion was on hand she felt... Better, but not all that much better.
(Ophelia Soleis)
[03:35] {ITEM} Traded item with Ophelia Soleis: Elixir Of Healing
[03:38] It seemed that they were lucky this time. A jaunt into the marketplace of Orsona, helped by Ophelia and Romani's eyes would fall upon that potion that he was becoming more familiar with. A small nod was given towards Ophelia.

"Hey." He would lean in towards the Diplomat, placing a simple lingering kiss upon her lips, before reaching down. His teeth grit and there was a pained grunt as he would rip the arrow straight out of his leg. Gasps of pain escaped him, before downing the potion and slowly letting the flesh regenerate.

"It is fine. You acted like a noble should, making sure that the King was ok. It is fine."

"I am not mad."

Not at her, at least.
(Romani cos Montclaire)