"You are certain, Grell?" Aranya asked. Her whiskery black eyebrows were drawn down with... Worry...? Was that the word for it? She wasn't sure.
The gregarious little sprite had just returned from Paradise Bay, and the news he brought back with him only confirmed what Kurel had said to her. "Scarab queen missing!" Grell squeaked. "No trace! 'Vanished at sea,' says island people!”
“Vanished at sea...” echoed the Thalassian woman in a whisper, looking at nothing. “Vanished at sea,” she repeated. Silence reigned as the wheels of her mind turned, and finally she appeared to come to a decision.
“Inform Rose,” ordered Aranya. “Tell my Intel chief that I want it known to all our eyes and ears in every port town on the Great Sea: I want Rariv’sha Muerte found. Go, now.”
Grell nodded and disappeared with a bounce, off on his way by magic to Gadgetzan, to tell the Ebon Rose of what the arcanist required.
Aranya turned, pacing around her Dalaran rooms. Rooms that she had occupied before and during the Second War, during the war against the Lich King, and now once again. So much study and so much pain these rooms had seen. So many things that were forgotten when the she-elf wasn’t around to occupy them and remind everyone.
“Wherever you are, whatever’s happened to you,” murmured Aranya, as if the Tanari princess madame woman could really hear her. “I am not going to just forget about you.”
Peia
I need to meet with you, we must speak. You remember my very important client, the one who we’ve suspected could be a surviving Khepris? She’s gone missing. I may need your help.
~Aranya
{Title inspired by Aranya and Colpeia’s Eclipse associations, and Rariv’sha’s crescent moon mark, she’s like a hidden moon, a “lunar eclipse.”}
“The magical defenses of Sunspire have had to change,” said Aranya. “The runestones were removed, and there’s a temporary ethereal dome to reflect magic for now. But Kurel has asked for a Titan-origin arrangement, which would stand up to the Legion, the Old gods...” The arcanist tilted her head to one side. “Almost anything but dragons, given the creatures’ titan-imbued nature.”
Aranya nodded. “Learning about titan enchantments is no small undertaking. Their work was always very precise, and tends to rely on objects that serve as beacons, or locks and keys, or both.” The embers of her green eyes narrowed. “It was like they could encode their magic in such a way that the intuitive ways of mortals and demons could never touch.”
“I know this kind of magic could have very serious consequences,” admitted Aranya. Exactly the reason why she was so grateful when the illusionist agreed to help divide the focus of such power, share the burden. “If I tried to cast it alone, it could be the kind of lethal recklessness that even I couldn’t think of as even a wildly good idea.” The corner of her mouth pulled up “And... I’ve been guilty of some admittedly reckless and wild ideas.” She grinned lopsidedly.
Colpeia smirked, tilting he teacup against her lips to finish off its contents. The eclipse weaver set it aside on the arm of her chair. “It’s never wise to be reckless, but the best discoveries come from wild ideas,” she said. “I think if we take great care, we may be able to accomplish what you want.”
“I’m fairly certain we can,” said Aranya. “And I think with your background in math, the precision of titan magic would also make you a wiser choice as a partner in this than another.”
There was also the matter of Rariv’sha, the missing Tanari princess.
“There’s so much that I owe to her, and to her generosity, Peia,” said Aranya. “I can’t just let her go.”
Aranya pleaded with Colpeia to teach her any magic of Tanaris that the eclipse weaver knew. Khepris, Shafise, Mirage, anything that could be used to connect to the missing woman and allow the arcanist to find her faster. Simple scrying was obviously not enough, and Aranya had not been able to reach her by amplifying her reach across the ley-fabric of the world - as she had done with Kurel in the past.
“Then perhaps what you need,” suggested Colpeia. “Is the Gaze of the Stars.”
Aranya blinked, fascinated and intrigued.
Colpeia asked, “Do you remember the crystal that teleported us to my tribe’s location?”
The phoenix-mage smiled, recalling the beautiful and mystical charm. “I do,” she answered.
Colpeia explained that its enchantment, its make, was from silithyst crystals, and that its energy went above and below the world. “The energy feeds into the view of the stars. The ley lines are the colors that it sees,” said the desertborn. “This way, wherever its assigned source goes, it can find. It is how a separated Shafisian can rediscover the tribe before dying among the sands.”
Aranya looked amazed. “That... sounds like it would do it, yes.”
But what to use as a source to connect to the missing Khepris woman?
{Don’t worry, the enchanted bear and blanket that Ra gave Valéria won’t be harmed.}
@beamgully @rarivsha mentions to @kurel-andiel @sunspireport and tags to @halenvar since this was at his cottage in Valdisdal the day before we got the whole Stormheim band back together.
Aranya stood on an open balcony, and breathed deeply as a soft breeze carried the fragrances of different flowers and oasis plants, with the misty scent of water, weaving over her skin and through her raven hair like invisible ribbons caressing her. Rariv’sha Muerte’s island truly was a paradise, with it’s natural beauty, its marvelous architecture, and the hospitality of its queen leaving nothing to be desired. The night spent here had been restful and content, the morning dawned in breath-taking views of the rising sun and a delicious breakfast.
This was an exotic realm that Aranya would not dream of saying “no” to re-visiting.
The magical defenses that the madame had hired the arcanist for had been executed perfectly.
Aranya reached out to the enkindled core with her senses, getting a feel for the pulse and pattern of its power and raised one hand in a arcane gesture, keeping sync with it. She shifted her focus to the six rune marks that she had placed around the island, and extended her other arm fully, fingers spread like she was catching at individual strands of a spider’s web, and slowly drawing them together.
Madame Rariv’sha Muerte watched silently, keeping track of the other woman’s movements with a twitch of her index finger.
Lord Ebonsteele kept his gaze flickering between between the madame and the work of the arcanist, silent, keeping his words and his thoughts withheld.
Aranya began incanting unfamiliar words under her breath, as the power began to crackle around her slender fingers, weaving an fusing together. Then she made slow, smoothing gestures, keeping her awareness on the shift in power, until it all settled into a new rhythm.
The arcanist took a deep breath. “It is done,” she said.
She could feel the whisper of her own energy’s fingerprint in the distance when she closed her smoldering green eyes.
Unfortunately, that was not the only thing that the Thalassian sorceress could feel.
Very close to the madame’s abode, a grand, magnificent tree grew.
It reeked of dark magic.
Aranya was particularly sensitive to magic, even for an elf, and the tree was of such power that it left her feeling a little bit uncomfortable, physically. She said nothing about this to the madame, however. The arcanist had worked for clients and benefactors who were inclined to darker energies numerous times in the past. As long as everyone upheld their end of the arrangements, she didn’t make judgements or pose questions about what they did.
... So what left her feeling so uneasy about it this time?
A thought, repetitive and unwelcome, came to the forefront of Aranya’s mind. If a second personification of herself had been standing next to her, she would have smacked it and said, “Stop it, shut up.”
Kurel.
Thoughts of the horned elf seemed to constantly skitter around the edges of her mind like the scorpid he so embodied, darting into the light and then lurking away in the dark again. Ever since their last meeting. He’d given her a small ivory scarab token with its wings closed. On the underside of its flat belly was something akin to a map, without clear directions of where, and Tanari hieroglyphs etched into the bone edge.
"Don' ge' hung in the middle, bu' you do. You go lookin' where you ain' supposed to. Askin' wha' you ought no' an' ge' yourself in deeper than you should, you show this. You go compliantly where you taken, you tell'em everythin'. Where I am. What I'm doin'-- where to fin' me. I'll come ge' you out of it.”
What the fel did it all mean?
Aranya placed her palms together by her chin, her fingers interlacing and steepling in front of her mouth, her index fingers to her lips in ponderous thought, her fel-kissed gaze looking into infinity at nothing.
Rariv’sha had the scent of dark power around her. It was unmistakable. Interesting thing was, Kurel did, too. Yet, the scarab queen had every indication of having embraced the powers at her command, while the captain seemed... stupidly lucky. Aranya knew from personal experience, possessing power without taking responsibility for it was dangerous.
You had to either master it for yourself or someone else would step in and become master for you.
How was Kurel keeping things under control, given his obvious aversions to magic?
Mavas, came the immediate guess. It made sense. The warlock obviously cared about him, and had his trust. It wouldn’t be a stretch to believe that he had done something to allow Kurel to go day to day, walking around like a powder keg with no fuse yet attached to it. Aranya only hoped that however it was done, that it lasted.
Turning one palm up, the phoenix-mage breathed, “Felomin ashal...”
Fire appeared in her hand, and she uttered a name to it, “Grell...” Aranya thought of the gregarious sprite who belonged to Opheron, and now assisted her in her role as the new head of the Eclipse Syndicate with his master’s retirement. “Grell, do you hear me?”
“Miss Rainy!” Squeaked the voice of an unsurprisingly excited Grell, and Aranya smiled wryly, eyes a-twinkle. The little sprite never could get her name quite right. Rainy was the closest he could manage to Aranya, and so it stuck.
“Grell, I need you to get a message to Hawke,” ordered the arcanist. “Tell him I’m ready for a day, time, and place. He’ll understand once you tell him who sent you, and don’t let him intimidate you just because he’s a warlock.”
Aranya turned and leaned back against the balcony, one elbow resting on it lazily. “Then I need you to make an appearance to the Land’s End home of Colpeia Beamgully - the ‘math-mage’ friend of mine I told you about.”
Some very excited utterances of delight at finally getting to personally meet the Tanari illusionist filtered through the flames from Grell.
“And remember to use those impeccable manners Opheron and Althaea taught you,” said the arcanist. “You’re to finalize arrangements with Colpeia and her sultana for me to meet with them to discuss a formal trade arrangement between the Eclipse Syndicate and the Eclipse Weaver tribe as their international partner.” Pointedly, she added, “I want the best buyers from all the known worlds for them. Whatever loops we have to pull over any sanctions or tariffs that would normally get in the way, we’ll do it for them.”
“Grell see Captain Horns, too?” The sprite asked. Amazingly, Aranya succeeded at not laughing. He could only mean Kurel.
“Why? What about him?” Aranya asked.
“Business for Captain Horns!” Grell squeaked. “We be very good business, Miss Rainy,” he insisted.
Aranya thought, for a long, hard moment. “No,” she said.
All kinds of blustered, confused sounds fed back to her from the flame. Clearly such a decision made no sense to the sprite.
“You’re to make no approach to him yet,” said the arcanist firmly. “He’s already heard that I’m the Eclipse Syndicate’s new head. Whether or not he was paying attention at the time doesn’t matter, he was there - standing right across from me - at General Winters’ ball when I said it. He heard.” Aranya turned to lean forward over the balcony now, one hand resting on it. “And I mentioned Opheron’s name, among other things, the last time I saw him. He’s not a fool, Grell. You drop only the right few words in the right places, but no more than that; those words will get back to his ears and he’ll put the pieces together on his own.”
Her tone went a notch softer, “I just need to have more behind me by the time that he does.”
“Other business before Captain Horns’ business?” Grell asked, sounding like he wanted to be sure he had that straight and that it was what she really wanted.
“Yes, Grell,” answered Aranya with a smile.
A pause followed. Then the question, “What if Captain wants Miss Rainy to talk before other businesseseses?”
“Then you let that be my concern, whether he decides to be cross with me or decides he just wants to discuss,” answered Aranya. “As to other matters, don’t worry yourself about the prospects in Gadgetzan. I’ll be handling those myself, personally. I’ll be discussing deals in Silvermoon tomorrow that should get things in motion with that, and I also need to talk to Halenvar about an idea that could benefit the Scions in this as well. Shorel’aran.”
Aranya closed her fist, and the flame doused, along with its connection to the hearth-fire of Opheron and Althaea. She bent down, as if to scratch the inside of her ankle, but in truth she was brushing her fingertips over the ivory scarab that Kurel had given her, slipped just beside one of her boot-knives.
I swear, for once, it’s not because of how I lack trust in you, she thought, but didn’t say aloud. It’s because I’m suddenly afraid of how I may be starting to.
◈ ━ share some headcanons that you have for a muse of your choosing. 8)
l e t ‘ s g o
- if vinq was a canon drink in azeroth it would be her favourite- she's a cat person- she has a soft spot for people who need it, and a hard one for people who don’t- she doesn’t actually drink as much as people might assume, nor gamble- while business is something she prides herself on, comradery is her favourite thing about her guild
What event in Conjury's existence could be considered the most "life-changing?" Does she have any regrets? Does she have any fears?
the most life-changing event that happened to her was by an absolutely gigantic margin was the death of her father. it sparked a lot in her and confirmed all of her doubts of the alliance’s government and law. if you wanna get all deep ‘n shit you could say that’s when she really began to ~*be herself*~
her father was a big’un in the defias and she learned a lot about it & experienced it first-hand. her hatred of nobles and political figures was always just out of wanting to be like her father (when you’re a kid, your parents know everything). but when he was killed resisting arrest for what he’d done, she fully began to believe he (and edwin) was right;; the governing people are not to be trusted, neither is anyone who claims any sort of political authority.
her only regrets are really that she didn’t participate more in the brotherhood. she was a child mind you, but she still wished she could have been a part of it.
her fears are irrational a lot of the time, but her biggest most #deep ones are fear of tyranny. she barely knows anduin and hated (largely due to her father’s influence) varian with a passion. to her, anduin is the son of a man who ruined her family. that scares her deeply especially since she lives in his city now and would be more directly effected than if she had been off living in seclusion much like they did when her father was around.
she also has a constant gigantic fear of the sun and of the ocean. she can stand by the coast, but she has a very difficult time with boats and would have a very impossibly hard time flying over one if she ever had to.
🎁 = What sorts of gifts do the mun and muse like? What were the last gifts they gave and received?
ᴍᴜɴ ᴠs ᴍᴜsᴇ — sᴇɴᴅ ᴀ sʏᴍʙᴏʟ | accepting
🎁;; What sorts of gifts do the mun and muse like? What were the last gifts they gave and received?
mun;; mun likes sentimental things! tbqh i’m not that wild about receiving gifts. i’m perfectly happy with a well-wish. all in all, it makes me a little uncomfortable to receive insincere things. the only time i feel very happy/good to accept something is when it’s clearly a sentimental gesture. something they did because they wanted, not because it was an obligation tied to an event (christmas//birthday, etc). last gift mun got was from her best friend, a couple of shower bombs and some holland-made peach vodka! mun gave friend some old horror movies, 2 bath bombs, and cake-shaped soap. merry christmas hosers~
muse;; muse happily accepts just about anything. she like mun, is a sentimental hoarder. she keeps anything that won’t rot away. BUT her favourite gifts are ones that are super beautiful and well-made. crystals, embroidery, fine things. things that are just plain beautiful to look at. she might not even use them, but there are times when it’s just nice to pull out a beautiful item and admire it. the last gift she received was a brooch from rariv’sha muerte, blue and gold and very gorgeous, even if she doesn’t wear it. she LOVES to give things. she regularly picks up sweets for her mother to nibble on, almost every night.
