Reflections from a Shattered Mirror

Giadriana's writing journal... or something like that.

[indikos]

burned my hand curling my hair today

worth it

[dirtybxnigga-deactivated2020052]

Man listen….

[loreweaver]

Wow, you are INCREDIBLY beautiful.  I am stunned.

[roachpatrol]

You look like one of those Sky Dancer dolls. Oh my gosh. 

[silverkiiri]

oh my god i found a picture of Avariel just as i had imagined her! This lady is so beautiful!

[silverkiiri]

hey zoe hey

these are references for the color of blue i was talking about. (the dresses themselves are not right, but the color is close enough. She can wear darker blues, but not super bright ones. does that make sense? think vintage) http://www.etsy.com/listing/83374286/vintage-1950s-dress-soft-blue-rk http://www.dhgate.com/product/2012-hot-retro-vintage-light-blue-sexy-v/139214886.html http://www.etsy.com/listing/96734579/prom-dress-1950s-emma-domb-vintage-prom http://www.uwdress.com/p/vintage-scoop-sleeveless-chiffon-floor-length-paillette-wedding-guest-dresses-20030/light-blue.html i hope that helps. i'm so bad at this.

[silverkiiri]

A drabble between my favorite mages

(for ease of reading, I've bolded Morrigan's lines) cass.

Morrigan?

are you busy?

Yes, actually.

good. listen. i am on my way to your current residence.

What?! Morrigan, are you okay?

i am fine. i want to have a sleepover.

...I'm sorry, but somehow I think I misheard. You want to what?

have a sleepover. specifically, a movie marathon. it's traditional for young girls to have nights where they trade gossip and watch films.

Morrigan, who exactly are we going to gossip about? We are literally mindlinked, and have been for thirty years. 

i believe the traditional topic is boys.

...Is this about Billy again? I think you have an obsession.

what no. this is about our bonding. we haven't seen one another in months. i wish to rectify this.

Well. Alright. I guess. I should be available for the next few days. Marco is busy here in town. Do you have a specific movie you want to watch?

yes. i want to marathon the hunger games movies.

Marathon? There's only one out.

i wish to watch all of them.

...I'm starting to see why you asked me to have a movie marathon Morrigan.

they should all be out in a boxed set by 2016.

...Thanks Morrigan.

you are welcome. i'll be there in two days. i'll be hungry.

Are you running the whole way? You know you could just fly, right? You don't have to run through five states.

i like to run. i also like beef. a lot of beef.

...I'll pick that up with the popcorn I guess.

[silverkiiri]

VtM

[silverkiiri]

for VtM game

[silverkiiri]

Remember when you told me you wanted me to make chibis of all my babies? 

No? 

Well you have a bad memory; have some chibis. 

Kari, Tsore, Adi, Avariel, Gigi, and Jenivyr in their most adorable appearances yet. 

[giadriana]

The girls, gone Dark Princess style

[silverkiiri]

Click the pictures for explanations

[silverkiiri]

Tsore and Alythar all dressed up for a fancy party. Probably as a disguise, since neither of them would ever do this on purpose. 

[silverkiiri]

I love this fucking comic.

[silverkiiri]

Shut up. I love dolls. So here are the girls. 

[silverkiiri]

Skinny Love

A sad drabble. Adi/tsore au. Sorry? I was having a bad day. (Also sorry for no "read more" cut. I can't do one on my phone) ------ By the second month, you can barely get out of bed. You spend most of the time in a place between sleep and wakefulness, a dreaming drifting world where you can barely sense his hand on yours. He never leaves, as far as you can tell. When you manage to struggle back toward consciousness, he's always there, sitting slumped by your side, one hand curled in yours, long fingers like ice compared to your feverish heat. You try to tell him to go, to get out and stop lingering here, but he ignores your whispered pleas, just strokes your brittle hair away from your face and gently calms you until you sink back into fevered dreams. His black eyes are the only steady thing left in your world. He's not always so patient, so strong. Sometimes you wake in the night to find him on his knees beside your bed, face buried against your side, frantic pleas spilling from lips unused to speaking with such desperation. He begs for another year, another month, just a little longer. He whispers confessions he never found the strength to say when you could respond, about wanting to be with you forever, to grow old by your side. His tears, rare and treasured things in the time before this crushing purgatory of illness, burn trails down your skin with the same fire as the silver in your veins. Exhausted and weak, you struggle to hold him on those nights, to curl around him like a mother around her cub, to protect him from this pain. You pull him close enough that your shivering breaths mix and you feel, for a time, as if your spirits mingle where your bodies cannot. His lips tremble so close to your own that they almost brush, spilling prayers and promises into your mouth as if words could be enough to make this all go away, as if he hadn't already filled oceans with his whispers. Even knowing their futility, you swallow them gratefully, thirsty for the assurance of his love now that there is nothing else. Sometimes, you can't take it any more. You muster up what energy you have left to get out of this awful nest that smells of death and pain, of loss and futility, and manage to sit up, to stand, maybe even to walk toward the elusive doorway, but he is always there, catching you, holding you, struggling to get you back into bed without hurting your newly-frail body, or letting you hurt it. His arms are gentle but as strong as the bars of a cage, and you thrash against him weakly as he whispers and pleads with you to relax, to lie down, to save your strength. On those days, you cry and scream - as much as you're able - for him to get out, to leave you alone. You tell him you never want to see him again, that you would rather die alone than have him always hovering over you. He never argues. He never lets you go either. His hands never tense against your bruised limbs even while you beat on him with what little strength remains. He holds you, sinking down to the floor to cradle you while you tell him you hate him, you don't want him here anymore, you just want to be alone. He curls over you when you stop struggling, and his sobbing breaths curl against your skin, words lost in your fury coming clear: "please love just calm down please don't do this to yourself you have to save your strength you have to hold on a little longer you can't leave me yet please oh please gods just don't leave me yet i can't do this without you please love shh just relax please i need you to hold on just a little while longer please for me just relax that's right shhh it's okay i've got you just let me help let me do it please let me do something for you" an endless litany of despair. Once you lose the breath to struggle, you slump limply against his chest, your ears still sharp enough that you can hear every crack and splinter of his heart breaking. You're trying, you are, but there are times when you resent the hold this boy from the slums has on your heart. It would so much easier to go if you knew you weren't leaving anyone behind. Your heart doesn't have anything left to break. In the last week, you are barely cognizant of your surroundings, but you know he is there, always there, and when you are awake enough to feel, the fear eats at you, bringing burning tears to your dry eyes. You don't know what to do, but this is killing him as surely as you. Cool fingers wipe slick trails from your gaunt cheeks, but you don't think it matters when more are dripping on your forehead and chin than are being cleaned away. You don't bother to struggle anymore, too weak to be strong for him, to try to save him from this pain, to try to push him away. The last think you see is black eyes, dark as the darkest night, looking into yours. The last thing you feel is warm, sweet breath on your lips. The last think you hear is him begging you not to go.

[silverkiiri]

Gigi story - part 1.5

This is the part between "The Beginning" and the introduction of the companions. More Avariel being confused and overwhelmed, and Alythar being a mysterious coolkid. 

Avariel managed to swim groggily back to consciousness to find that she was stretched out on a long, low couch. The room was lit by only a single candle, which seemed to make more shadow than light. She sat up slowly, confused. This was not her personal chamber, nor any other room she was familiar with from her father's home. Aside from the couch and the small table, there was nothing else in the room at all, not even a window to shed light.  She put a hand to her throbbing head and looked around curiously, trying to ignore the tingle of fear in her gut. This was no place she knew. The stones of the walls were irregular shapes and sizes, and a black she had never seen before, almost like glass, not like the rows of identical gray bricks and smooth plaster that made up the Baron's fortress... and she had never been outside that fortress for more than a quick outing at her father' side, certainly not to sleep.   From the back of her mind, in the same place where she had closed and locked away most of her childhood memories, a thought kept trying to intrude, but she pushed it away savagely. There was something, some memory or realization, that wanted her attention, but she was determined to get somewhere she recognized before she stopped to think. This place was... maybe not evil, but not safe. Her rolling stomach and shaking hands were being very clear about that.  Avariel stood, finding that her feet had been divested of shoes while she slept, though her ripped stockings still clung half-heartedly to bruised and bloody legs. With a wince, she bent to straighten them as best as she could, trying not to look too hard at the state of her skin in the dim light. With a quick adjustment of skirts and a smoothing pat to her braided hair, she straightened her shoulders, put on the carefully blank expression she normally wore around her father and other dangerous strangers, and pulled open the heavy door.  The hallway outside wasn't much of an improvement on lighting, but after a long moment of lip-biting hesitation she remembered her pendant. It was still around her neck and unbroken, though it had acquired some scratches and scrapes in her mad scramble for freedom. Relieved, she traced the symbol and whispered, "In the dark be my guide, fill me with your sight." Her words, lost as they were in the enveloping darkness, seemed to stir something in the air, and whispers filled the corridor like a gust of cool wind. They swept by her after a confusing moment where it seemed the shadows all around her were reaching out to touch, to feel. She stumbled back from them, a strangled little whimper coming from her throat, and began to walk in the opposite direction the voices moved in, trying too keep her eyes straight ahead.  Her stocking feet made little noise on the rough stone of the floor as she moved, strangely muffled along with everything else, and she stayed in the middle of the hall, as much in the light as possible. The hall was lined with doors much like the one that she had been sleeping behind, and those she ignored. You never knew who was behind them.  She continued through the twisting, arching tunnel of a hallway until she came to a set of massive stone doors. they were twice as tall as she, and looked like they would have to be too heavy for her to open. She swayed, looking up at them with frustration. No one else was near, and she didn't know where else to go. Oh screw it. There had to be a way through. She sighed and then lifted a hand to the worn notches to try and pull them. To her surprise, her outstretched hand went right through the stone, revealing that it was actually made of thousands of strings of heavy beads. She knew her mouth was open like a fool, but the door had looked so real! She'd have sworn it was ancient and hewn out of a single piece of stone, but the beads gently clicking against one another told her that her first impression was an illusion, though an expertly crafted one. Hesitantly, she pushed her way through the curtain of beads, feeling them slither over her body like cool fingers, and moved into the large room beyond.  This must be the chapel.  Around the outside wall of the circular room were more doors that looked like the one Avariel was still standing in, three in total, with low stone benches sitting spaced out along the walls. There was no one else in the chapel as far as she could see, but the whispers from the hallway were had somehow followed her there, low murmurings, sobs, and chuckles just on the edge of hearing. It made the hair on her arms stand and she shivered before walking into the room. In the center was a statue, one that Avariel has seen before in miniature in her own small family chapel. She walked around it slowly until she was at the front, then stepped back so she could see the entire thing.  It was a woman, her body covered by a flowing black cloak, with both gloved arms spread before her in a gesture of invitation, or supplication. Hair tumbled down her back and around her face as if in a strong wind, obscuring much of her appearance, except for two gleaming red eyes that shone in the shadowed room. Her face was expressionless, and she was carved of dark marble, but Avariel felt as thought that statue was studying her in return.  She dropped to one knee, bending her head as she reached out and touched one of the statues cold gloved hands. "Dark Lady," she murmured respectfully, beginning one of the many prayers she had learned in her home chapel. "Thank you for your blessing-" From behind her, someone cleared their throat, and it was the politest sound she had ever heard, as if the speaker had found the perfect sound to convey "Oh, I'm so sorry to interrupt, don't mind me, please do go on... but if you have second of free time I can just wait right here until you're ready." If a sound could wear a cute little tophat and twiddle its thumbs, this one did.  Amused, Avariel turned to face the speaker, and recognized the priest from the night before. (At the sight of his thin face a part of her tried to chip in, to remember why she was there, to tell her exactly what had happened the night before, but she pushed it back as ruthlessly as she had the others, intent on ignoring that line of thought as long as possible.) He pushed pack the hood of his long coat with thin, graceful fingers and smiled at her.  "I don't mean to interrupt," he said cautiously, and Avariel couldn't help but smile back.  "No, it's fine! I'm glad you're here. I was kinda of starting to wonder if maybe I wasn't dreaming. This place is a little... different." She smiled weakly back, trying to ignore the urge to latch on to his arm and babble about the voices she could still just barely hear over the quiet rustle of the wind (and if the wind was what she hear, why did none of the candle flames flicker?). She didn't want to seem crazy as a first (second, technically) impression.  The priest cocked his head to the side, then smiled gently, eyes crinkling in understanding. "Ah, the voices." He ignored her flinch. Was he a mind-reader? "They do get a little overwhelming sometimes when they are new. I'm afraid the only thing you can do is get used to them though. They are always present in Giadriana's temples. Some say it is the voices of her followers in prayer. Others say they are all her voices." He stepped closer to the statue and gestured toward it. "I personally think it is both." He turned back toward Avariel. She couldn't help but admire the way he moved, almost predatory, in the flickering light. His voice was obviously masculine, but his appearance, thanks to the shadows dancing across every surface, was enticingly androgynous, with dark golden hair to his collar and high cheekbones.  "Ah, but I'm sure you have other things to wonder about right now. I'm being rude." He bowed slightly from the waist. "My name is Alythar, cleric of Giadriana. And yours is..?" "Avariel," she replied, matching his bow with one of her own, perfectly crafted over a lifetime to convey just the right amount of respect. The importance of getting the depth perfect had been... beaten into her by the time she was presented to the public in her twelfth birthday. "Daughter of the Baron." (And there was that voice again, edging in, trying to tell her something. She physically shivered as she pushed it away.) "Thank you for your help last night, if that was last night." "It was," Alythar replied, his dark eyes studying her calmly. "You have slept for ten hours, give or take. Do you remember why you came here, Avariel, Baron's Daughter?" She stood. "To seek Sanctuary in the name of Giadriana." He nodded. "Good. Your mind is sound. We worried, after the blow to the head your friend said you took. We were not able to heal you beyond some common medicines. Such gifts are my Lady's to give." With a rustle of black fabric, he sat on one of the stone benches and patted the spot next to him in invitation. "So, you remember what was," he said once she had sat down. "Now what of what will be?" She looked at him for a long moment, then arched an eyebrow slowly when he didn't say anything. "Um, sorry?" His smile was a bit more genuinely amused. "What I mean, child, is this: What will you do next? Do you have a plan?" Avariel bit her lip and looked back at the statue, eyes tracing the details while she thought. "I'm not sure. I mean, I can hardly go home. Everyone is-" There is was again, that damn voice. She tried to shake it off, and the effort made her grimace. After moment, when her thoughts were back on track, she continued. "The Right of Annulment failed. I'm still alive. I have a duty to my people to go and prove it." She twisted her hands together and tried to imagine going through with what she was about to say, but she couldn't. She'd never been out of the city. She hadn't even been out of the Keep in over a year.  Alythar nudged her shoulder gently when she took too long to continue. "And how will you do that?" She laughed, short and bitter. "Oh, that part's easy. I just have to go to Thaliara Gwyndilon, which is so far from here it's almost comical to think about, and give testimony in front of representatives of every faith." She sighed, exhausted by the thought. "The hard part is going to be making myself leave." "Mmm, I think that the temple can help some, with your journey. You asked Sanctuary of us, and you wear our Lady's symbol. She is kind to her followers, Child. She will aid you in your quest, in her own way." "Quest..." Avariel stared at the scrapes and tears marring her stockings, rubbing one finger absently over a stain where blood had soaked through. "That word makes it seem so noble, like something out of a storybook." "Some stories are real," he companion replied amiably, standing and stretching gracefully. "After all, where do you think we got the idea of stories in the first place? Each has a nugget or truth at its core: a man or woman desperate enough that they take risks so great that other's speak of them for years to come." She looked up at him - he had to be at least six feet tall - and swallowed back tears that clung to her throat (she would not cry, no matter how kind he was; she had not cried in front of a stranger since she was six years old). "Aren't those people heroes?" He turned back around to face her, and the light illuminated his face clearly for the first time. He was... quite handsome, she noticed with something like shock. And not very old, either. From the way he talked, she would have added at least ten years to his age, but he seemed not much older than her, certainly nowhere near her father's age. He held out a hand to held her rise, his eyes meeting hers, and she felt like he could see right through her, see all her doubts and fears and shame. He touched her cheek gently, fingers light as a feather, and his eyes smiled kindly, flickering crimson for a moment so short she thought she had imagined it. "Not at first, my child. Never at first." 

[silverkiiri]

happyturd answered your question: So.... Hi?

I FUCKING LOVE YOU WOMAN.

Aaaahhh I LOVE YOU TOOOOOOO!

[silverkiiri]

Since no one was asking

Here are Serendipity and Alecion's Chosen. You're welcome. 

Laurana is Serendipity's. She's an elf (obvs).

And here's Vaelyn. She lives at the temple in Calimport. 

[silverkiiri]

A drabble...

you know what, call it part 3. That's where it goes chronologically. so far. until i write an actual developed plot.  

This is near the beginning of their trip. 

"Seriously? That's the only way?" Karira eyed the path in front of her warily. "There's not, like, I dunno... a cave system that cuts directly through it?" Tsippore shrugged and glanced back at the wolf that was their guide. It sighed and sat down with a put-upon look in its eyes. The group waited patiently as the wolf's form molded and shifted until Adi could speak. "There is no other way past Frostback than the Deadwish pass," she said in a voice that was half-growl. "If there were, do you not think we would have mentioned it?" "It's probably not as bad as it looks," Alythar said reasonably.  "I'm not worried about how it *looks* so much," Karira muttered, "as how it sounds. I mean, Deadwish? Were they trying to be cute? You don't have to name things so dramatically." She shaded her eyes and leaned back, peering at the mountain, which was all sharp edges and abrupt drops.  Avariel shivered. "Do you think there's a reason for the name?" Karira snorted. "You think it's more likely that they drew it out of a hat?" Tsippore stepped forward, the dagger he had been toying with vanishing as quickliy as it had appeared. "Too late to turn back now. Let's get moving. We don't have time to ponder our options when they are clearly limited." He motioned to Adilinaria. "Lead, matya mou. We follow." --- That night, they set up camp in a shallow cave about halfway up the side of the mountain. Avariel ached in every bone, and even Tsippore looked tired. Karira had fallen asleep hours ago, and Adi, tireless in her wolf form, had carried her the rest of the way. When Avariel had made a comment about wishing she could be carried, the wolf had snarled at her and trotted off.

Alythar explained tot he confused princess that the reason Karira was exhausted was the same reason Avariel could still feel her fingers. The little mage had been casting heat spells on the party since the morning, along with her normal spells of stealth. Even asleep, she held the spells in place. Avariel walked quietly after that, trying to ignore the way Adi snorted every time their eyes met.  Now, even with the warmth spells, Avariel was miserable. The day had been one vertical climb after another, and her body trembled with fatigue. She dropped to the ground by the fire and laid back, not caring if her clothes were in the dirt. It's not as if they could get much worse after today.  She laid there for a while, drifting vaguely into almost-sleep, before someone plopped down at her side. She cracked one eye open and saw Karira sitting there, rubbing sleepily at her eyes like a child. "Feel better now that you've rested?" Avariel asked. Kari yawned. "Not really. I'm still holding all the spells. But I'll feel better after Alythar takes over for a few hours while I sleep deeply." "How can he take over?" Avariel wondered aloud. "I thought your magic was different." "It is. But he has some spell that his goddess gives him that can do to an area of land the same thing mine can, but I can focus mine on me instead of a place, so it can move with us." She reached out and grabbed a piece of sizzling meat from the spit, ignoring the crackling flames as if her hand didn't go right through them. Avariel blinked and decided not to think about it too hard.  "Huh. Okay." She accepted the piece of meat Karira tore off for her and sat up, looking around. Alythar was sitting on his bedroll, deep in meditation or prayer. Tsippore was crouched on the cliff twenty feet above them, watching their trail. Adilinaria was up there with him, but Avariel couldn't make out her dark coat against the colorless skies. She nibbled her food absently. "Karira?" "Mmm?" "How long have you traveled with Tsippore and Adilinaria?" The mage glanced up at her companions. "Hm. It's probably been about four years now." "How did you meet?" Avariel asked.  Karira grinned. "I was traveling between settlements one day when I got bored. I do that a lot." Avariel had noticed. "On the path, a fairly well-traveled path might I add, one of Tsore's little cronies tried to rob me. After I was done with the brat, he needed a priest. The priest knew Tsippore and contacted him about the event. I expected him to be upset about the fireball I had tossed at his friend, but he wasn't. Said the kid had it coming for thinking I'd be an easy mark just cause I'm tiny." She giggled. "After that, he asked me if I was interested in a job. I was, so we partnered up. Not long after, Adi came along too, and we've been a happy little group since then. More or less." Avariel glanced back at the cliff thoughtfully. "You all get along? You seem very different."

Karira nodded, happily tearing into her food. "Adi says that too. Something about balancing and power and other Pack talk. I just know that they make me happy." Tsippore glanced down at the camp and nodded acknowledgement when he saw her looking at him, and Avariel blushed, looking back at the fire quickly. "So, you all are pretty close? Are he and Adi pretty good friends as well?" Karira nodded, mouth too full to speak, then stopped abruptly. She swallowed and turned to face Avariel. "You, uh. You like Tsippore, donthca?" "What? No! Of course not!" Avariel hoped her blush wasn't showing in the firelight. Karira sighed. "Yeah ya do." She put down her dinner and sighed. "Listen, princess. I know he's easy on the eyes, and the whole 'silent and deadly' thing really gets humans going, but you should just forget all about that. He don't think about you that way, and never will."

She waved a small hand, cutting off the younger girl's protests. "I'm serious." And Avariel saw that, for the first time since she had met her, the Fae was. Her face was set in solemn lines, wide eyes still and deep as the evening sky. "His heart is taken, girl. Has been since long before he realized." "Who- oh. Adi?" "Yes. And it is a new thing for him, this vulnerability. He doesn't think he's meant to love so deeply, and I think it scares him. I'm not even sure she knows." She shook her head sadly. "But it's true. You know what he called her, at the bottom of the mountain?"  Avariel thought back. "Something mou?" "Matya mou," Karira agreed. "Adi has no idea what it means. She only speaks the common tongue and that of the beasts. But I know. My people remember the old things better than most." "What does it mean?" Avariel couldn't help but be curious "My eyes," the fae whispered, eyes on the dancing fire. "It means something you cannot go a day without, something that is a part of you."  They sat for a long moment in silence broken only by the wind, before Karira shook her head as if shaking away serious thoughts. "Seriously though," she said with a grin, leaning forward to pull off another peice of smoking meat, "the shifter would rip your throat out. So best start mooning over the priest instead."

[silverkiiri]

I know what you want

You want pictures of the girls as sailor scouts. 

It's cool. I support you. I love you. that's why I did this: for you. 

The goddesses are from before I learned to crop. Shut up. 

Giadriana

Serendipity:

Evea:

Adi:

Karira:

Avariel:

Gigi: 

[silverkiiri]

Part 2ish of the Gigi story

Yeah, this skips a bit, but it's the intro of the other companions. So here. 

"Allow me to introduce you to your guardians on your journey," Alythar said quietly, his voice muffled by the dense shadows of the hall.  Avariel blinked. "Guardians?"  The priest smiled slightly, eyes dark. "You didn't think we would just let you wander off to Thaliara Gwyndylon with no one to keep you safe, did you?"  "Honestly? Yeah, I kinda did," Avariel murmured, trying not to appear ungrateful.   "Here." Alythar opened one of the unmarked stone doors that lined the corridor. The room was dim, like most of the temple, lit only by a few candles. In the flickering light, Avariel could make out several figures gathered around a table. They had been conversing quietly, but stopped as she walked through the door.  "What's this?" asked the smallest figure from her place on the edge of the table. A flickering ball of light, pulsing and oddly colored, appeared in her hand and lit her features as it cast more light on the scene.  She was tiny, no more than four feet tall, and petite as well. Her eyes were slanted and large in her small face, and her mass of hair was braided tightly to her head and held back in a large bun with two braids trailing down out of it. Her ears were faintly pointed. She grinned when she saw Avariel start at the sight. "Not familiar with my kind, girl? Lucky you." Her eyes flickered to Alythar. "Who's the brat, priest? A sacrifice for that goddess of yours?"  "She doesn't smell like a sacrifice to me," said a husky female voice from the corner. The form that had been lounging there rose languidly and sauntered into the light from the tiny girl's spell. She was tall, almost six feet, and had chin-length hair that had apparently been chopped off with a dagger. It was the exact color of fresh blood. Avariel stared at it in fascination until the woman smiled. Instantly, her attention focused on the sharp teeth that filled her inviting mouth.  Shifter.  Only then did Avariel notice the way the light reflected from her wolf-gold eyes. She stepped back, unsure, and the woman chuckled. "No, no sacrifice is this one," she told the tiny girl. "She is scared, and smells of blood and death. She smells of betrayal."  The mage blinked and scrunched her nose skeptically. "...She smells of betrayal? That makes no sense, Adi. How can you even smell that?"  The taller woman, who was apparently Adi, snorted. "It is a mixture of smells and impressions that would be lost upon your dead senses." She sounded contemptuous, and maybe a tiny bit defensive.  The mage returned the snort mockingly. "Careful, dog. I'll set you on fire again if -"  "Enough, both of you." Alythar made an abrupt motion, and both girls stopped talking immediately. "This is Avariel."  "The princess of the Baron's household?" The new voice was male, but the speaker stayed in the shadows, a glint of light on his hooded eyes as he turned the only way Avariel knew where he was looking. "What is she doing here?"  Avariel took a deep breath, trying to fight back her confusion and dislike of strangers to speak like an adult. "My father's House is no more. I have sought Sanctuary in Giadriana's temple."  The ball of light pulsed brightly as the mage holding it started. "No more?! But that means she-"  "Yes, Karira," Alythar interrupted. "But that is for later."  "So," the hidden man remarked, "the bastard finally got taken out?" He leaned forward, and Avariel got a glimpse of dark hair falling into narrow eyes. "The Unspoken Right was enacted? But... not well, it seems."  Avariel's stomach tightened. The Unspoken Right, the Right of Annulment, was centuries old now. After the Reckoning that had destroyed the Old World, the land had been split too far asunder for the empires of the past to thrive. Instead, the world was divided into smaller communities that were usually centered around a defensive structure or a town that had partially withstood the destruction. The land between these small points of civilization was filled with chaos, darkness, and monsters that were the warped and rabid remains of the past.  There was no inter-community organization. For years after the  Reckoning , there wasn't even any communication at all between them. If it hadn't been for the temples, there might not have been for decades longer. But once settlements became more permanent and the remaining populations began to trade and aid one another, the inevitable greed arose as well.  Eventually, according to the books she had read, one man tried to seize power for himself. Known only as The Betrayer in legend, he attempted to kill the leader of a nearby community. He managed, but only because the man he killed had also been the one who had raised him from childhood, and refused to raise a hand against his own son. When he tried to take his adopted sister as his new wife, she ran to the gods for Sanctuary.  In the center of Thaliara Gwyndilon, the one place in the world that was sacred to every god, the girl told her story to the representatives of the gods, and they ruled swiftly and harshly in her favor. The Betrayer, and any who had supported him, were brought before the gods and executed.  After that day, there was a law that any who tried to take power through murder would be judged thusly if any witness would come to Thaliara Gwyndilon and present their case. So the Right of Annulment was created: to rule, every member of a household must die. Every man, woman, and child who might one day go before the Chosen and witness. Every servant and soldier who could attest to what had happened.  The Unpoken Right had been attempted few times, and not often with success.  "No," Avariel answered his unspoken question. "Not very well. And I will make sure that all my friends and family do not go unavenged."  "Ohh, a journey of vengeance and danger." Karira grinned brightly. "Sounds like a fun time!"  Adi smacked her on the back of the head. "A little sympathy might be in order, my bloodthirsty friend." She nodded more formally. "I regret the loss you must have felt this night, princess. May you be brought peace, by light or darkness."  Avariel nodded back, unsure of what to say. She was saved by the other man. "Well, I'm guessing you want us to be her guardians to the temple?"  "Right." Alythar motioned, and the walls flared with blood-red script for an instant before it faded back into invisibility. He shut the door behind him, and he and Avariel took two of the empty chairs at the table. "You three will accompany the princess to the temple, where she will witness against the man who did this."  "Why us?" The shifter sat in one of the padded chairs, crossing her long legs in front of her. Her eyes gleamed. "Why should we trek halfway across the known world to help anyone from the Baron's house?"  Karira nodded, yawning. "Adi's right. I don't remember signing up as a babysitter."  Avariel snarled. "I don't remember being so helpless that I need one, either!"  "Oh?" The shadowed man chuckled. "And how would you take care of yourself, princess?"  "Tsippore - "  "No, he has a good point," Adi purred. "Let him speak."  Alythar sat back with a resigned sigh. Tsippore continued. "You are the only known survivor of the attack on the Baron, a man with few friends and rather a lot of enemies. You are a girl who is untrained in the magic I see within her, and who has no idea how to use her body as a weapon. You have been kept within the fortress all your life, and your father kept you purposely ignorant on all matters of politics, geography, and the outside world. You have never had any close companion who might shelter you."  Avariel fought to control her expression, even as tears fell down her cheeks. The man continued, his voice still even and reasonable. "Tell me, princess: how do you plan on getting to the temple? You have a powerful enemy who wants you and knows exactly where you are. You don't know the way. You don't have any supplies, or money with which to take it. The attackers left a girl dead a the scene who was almost identical to you and dressed in your clothing. They are claiming it is you. That means they don't necessarily want to kill you, girl. They may want something more. And you think you can evade them alone?"  "How do you know all this?" Avariel whispered hoarsely.  Karira looked up from where she was playing with her ball of light, mouth twisted into something between a grin and a smirk. "Honestly, hon, it's just better not to ask some things."  Tsippore ignored the Fae's interruption. "I know what is known on the streets already. Words spreads quickly of happenings so dire and forces so disciplined. The reports say no one made it out alive. You are the secret that the attackers must take care of." He sat back, hands behind his head.  The long silence was broken by Avariel clearing her throat. "These things you know: is one of them the identity of he attackers?"  "Do you now know this yourself?"  "I would not ask if I did," she snapped.  Adi shifted in her seat, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. she spoke slowly, her eyes slitted. "A moon ago, I was approached by a very secretive human. He said he was putting together a force of shifters and mages, but that he was keeping it quiet. He stressed that the reward would be immense, and that the danger would be minimal. I declined of course, for Tsippore decides where we go and why, but I was curious enough to trail him back to his den." She paused, cocking her head , then shook her head. "His den was a public place, so I was unable to follow him further."  "But I could," Karira chirped, her hands busily sketching something in the air before her. "I was able to catch a glimpse of him talking the man he worked for before their mages could find me. Here." She motioned, and the rune she had drawn flared to life, then was replaced by the image of two men bent together over a table. One was carefully hooded and nothing of his face was visible, but the other...  Avariel gasped, jumping to her feet. "The seneschal!"  Tsippore nodded. "Yes. He was the leak that allowed your attackers to gain entry to your fortress without a fight."  Karira shrugged impatiently. "Yeah. The other guy is way more interesting though." Avariel sat back down, feeling nauseous. She wasn't sure she agreed. The seneschal's betrayal cut more deeply than any knife. He had been her father in all but name, praising her and helping her when the Baron forgot about his only child, which was often.