Ro'ell

Order of Vyldi Headquarters: Restoration Branch

The lecture room was full of new and returning students, as there was little else to do on such a quiet early morning. At the front of the room stood a young, dark haired man with an unassuming disposition and an air of tranquility about him. The students had come to listen to the man speak on restoration magic, as well as several seasoned mages looking to hone their skills. With the focus on protection outside of their walls, the need for knowledge of restoration magic was becoming more and more prevalent. Alistair Fenix, the man leading the lecture, was Head of The Restoration Branch of the Order. Though, as the order still put a heavy focus on destruction magic, his actual power within the order was limited. He wore a dark brown suit, offering little protection and mobility should he encounter danger, but to those in the order he didn't seem like someone who would start a fight nor engage in one easily.

"We live in a dark time for mages, some would say," said Alistair, clearing his throat before continuing the lecture. "Limitations have been imposed on you all, limitations I'm sure many of you feel are unjust. This brings a larger question to bear fruit, what is the greatest hindrance to us? The fear of the outside world? Is it fear, or is it the inability for us to control our own fear of what we can do? Many have embraced that fear, turning them into monsters far worse than those that stalk the woods after dark." Alistair removed his tie and his jacket, forcing a little bit of patience upon the listeners. "Restoration magic is often seen as the weaker of the two primary focuses here within the Order. However, it is the magic that will help you most when faced with such zealots and rogues. The Order does not ask you to master 'healing' magic nor does it expect you to. It only asks that you familiarize yourself with it in order to better defend yourself, both in battle and within the public. Now, restoration magic was first applied to healing..."

The lecture lasted a few hours, ending just before noon. Alistair dismissed those that had attended and thanked them for listening to what he had to say. The idea of the lectures was to get mages within the Order to focus more on protection based magic so to appease the public. They were only held once every few months, but Alistair saw them as an opportunity to get out of his office and his usual duties. He left the lecture hall and entered into the main hall within the training wing. Only those within the Order of Vyldi were allowed so deep within the Headquarters. Though his rank held little meaning within the politics of the Order, he was allowed unhindered access to the Order's headquarters. Many higher ranking members had left for a meeting, leaving a few behind to see to day-to-day operations. Alistair cared little for such tasks, so many saw him as someone who would usually just go with the flow.

He arrived back in his office putting his jacket and tie over the chair and sitting down with a heavy sigh. Alistair began looking through today's paperwork, trying to find any ledger or document worth making a note of. "I wonder if I should get a drink tonight? 'The Drunken Dragon' might finally ask me to pay my tab if I go there," Alistair said with a disappointed expression. Things in the world were moving too fast for him, too many battles trying to be waged at one time. His only hope was that the Order of Vyldi would live to see the end of the strife. Alistair tried to remember his old self, prior to losing his team to the Necromages in the mountains. He doesn't remember all of what transpired during that expedition, only waking up a few hundred feet away from the collapsed fortress. His drive to master destruction magic was gone, and with it his desire to lead the order. Alistair leaned back in his chair, staring blankly into the open hall beyond his door. Thinking back to that day had given him a headache, as it always does.

Khrae's gaze drifted back and forth across the city. All around him, throngs of people moved, bustling with whatever activity was currently occupying them and tending to whatever task was in need of completion. Lining either side of the narrow road, stands were setup alongside shops of various products, congregations of people obscuring the view to any of them and making it impossible to buy anything, unless of course you were audacious enough to try to push one of the bargainers out of the way. Nevertheless, Khrae wasn't in the market to purchase frivolous trinkets or otherwise useless chickens, one of the many things that was currently being passed around. No, instead the man was here to try to ascertain where in the world his counter-part had escaped to in his absence.

Glancing around, the man sighed. He'd expected as much, and he regretted now the moment where he allowed himself to drift, to get comfortable and become lax, momentarily letting slip his attentiveness to the task bestowed upon him whilst in the meeting with the Council and Order of the Vyldi.

The sounds of the people around him were almost overwhelming, with random people yelling this or that, trying to get the best deal for whatever they found it worthwhile enough to spend their time on, though usually in vain as far as the seller goes, always being the one with the better deal in the end. Shaking his head, the swordsman proceeded on, forcing his way through the relentless mass of people, maintaining a stoic expression as his eyes darted here and there, trying to pick out any sign of his young student's presence.

It took only a moment for the man to locate the boy, not finding it at all surprising that he was the epicenter of the chaos that suddenly broke out, an uproar of screams coinciding with a conglomeration of other sounds, ranging from what Khrae only assumed was a goat, to then a series of clanks and clattering of metallic objects tumbling to the ground.

Moving suddenly with a renewed purpose, Khrae dove further into the sea of people, all attention suddenly shifting in the direction of the commotion. Weaving his way towards the source, the man broke out into the clearing that had formed around an old blacksmith's shop, locating his prey on the ground, sprawled out beneath an avalanche of shiny armor pieces, and a cascade of weapons and wooden racks. How the goat played in, the man wasn't sure, but he didn't question it's presence over the boy.

With a heavy sigh, the clansman stepped forward to confront the bellowing oaf of a man who he only assumed was the blacksmith himself, or at least the shop owner. Clad in heavy leathers, gloves and an orange-stained smock, the heavy-set brute seemed unstoppable in his rants of incoherent curses and otherwise nasty language. With the appearance of Khrae and a new source upon which to unleash his unholy innuendos, the man proceeded to do just that, throwing at him a mess of, "Is he yours? Look at this mess! What kind of bumbling idiot is this child?!" until such times when the swordsman simply held up a hand.

"Please, friend," he said calmly, pulling down his cowl. All eyes were on the scene and the three men, but over a matter such as this, it was hardly anything to become so flustered about. In fact, if Khrae was correct in his learning about how most others interacted in public, this entire display was deliberately just that, brought on simply because the public was indeed watching, a sort of natural reaction to the sudden gathering of the people's attention, and then not wishing to lose it. The man had much to learn about a polite modesty, inventory on the ground or not. Still, Khrae didn't feel as though things were entirely against the fellow, or at all. Courteously he nodded before proceeding.

"My apologies for my young apprentice. Dante here tends to be a bit... irrational at times, does not think through his actions and their consequences, yet to fully understand fully exactly how he can affect a situation," the man explained, his expression or tone never changing.

"Khr--" Dante began, only to be silenced with one glance of his mentor. Although no expression was evident in the man's face, Dante respected the authority he still held. In fact, currently it was very much palpable, somehow the calm reactions of the man assimilating into the crowd. Normally they'd of expected much more shouting, yelling and debating, and perhaps they'd of cheered or continued on, but this sudden change in pace was almost intriguing, everyone wanting to see exactly how things would play out. A similar effect had overtaken the shop owner too, and with his outbursts quelled, he now held only a rather unfriendly glare towards the boy.

"I'll pay kindly for whatever may be damaged or broken," continued Khrae. "Again, I do apologize." That said, the man produced a handful of assorted coins, dropped them at the other's feet and turned on his heels, moving through the crowd that now decided to part in his wake. The boy was quickly to follow, standing and bowing his head to hide the sudden shame. At first he seeming to sulk with heavy steps behind his mentor, until such times when they'd made their way onto the path into the forests, when once more he became his usual, care-free, bouncy and bubbly self.

Outside the borders of the small community, and into the trees with the entire ordeal left behind, Khrae suddenly stopped, shutting his eyes and causing his apprentice to impact his back.

"Wha--" was all Dante could manage before suddenly Khrae had whipped entirely around, his eyes suddenly taking on a glowing purple hue as his fist moved with his body, the punch directed into the boy's lower abdomen. The young man was cut off before he could even finish his first word, and suddenly found himself propelled backwards with a force that was sent with more blunt, possessive attributes than actual power, simply knocking the wind from his lungs and sending him hurling back several meters, instead of breaking ribs or otherwise seriously damaging internal organs.

For a moment while the boy regathered himself and his pride, Khrae simply stood, his power having dwindled just a moment after his initial strike. With his face hidden in the shadows beneath the hood, and then further obscured by the cowl of his cloak, he looked truly menacing, but Dante knew better. After a long pause, and once the boy had reclaimed his ground, he spoke. "Explain yourself."

"What?" replied the young man, almost defensively, yet at the same time quizzically.

"Explain." repeated the swordsman.

"It wasn't my fault. That man was being rather unfriendly from the get go! I--"

"No, explain to me why you insist on causing trouble instead of sticking to your studies and meditation. Explain why I cannot take my eyes off you for a moment without something ending up broken, dismantled, demolished or otherwise not the way it should be." Again, the man's tone remained a steady neutral, but it was evident that he was displeased nonetheless.

"Because that stuff is boring!" proclaimed Dante, his shoulder sagging momentarily. "It's more fun to adventure, that's why we're out here!" With this he perked, waving to the forests now surrounding the two men. "I mean, I get that whole enlightenment stuff, but why can't we have fun in the process?"

"Fun can be had, but with the proper amount of discipline to ensure that it doesn't turn to destruction of property." Retorted Khrae, the statement having become tedious to repeat over the years. "Moderation... I only just managed to convince the council that our presence will be of no harm, that we are a peaceful group reliant on our studies rather than whatever else, and here you are collapsing a someone's shop, their entire inventory. Your ancestors would be ashamed of you. This is why no powers are granted to you..."

"I'm proficient enough without them," said Dante, as if trying to at the same time convince himself of the hollow statement. "Really!"

"Hmmph. Nevertheless, you are to remain where I can see you. I'd expected you could at least stay out of trouble while I was at the meeting, but apparently not. No matter how much I detest having to bring you into anything further, I suppose I'll have to. Now then." With that, the man turned again, proceeding down the road.

"Where are we going?"

"Lethandrill," Khrae said simply, then he elaborated. "We just barely got accepted, and now we're dispatched to alert the other orders of our presence. The Order of the Vyldi will be keeping a close eye on us, and frankly the only reason I'm afraid of that is because of a certain blacksheep. Now, you'll be on your best behavior for the remainder of this trip, yes?"

The question was rhetorical, Dante knew, so he simply remained silent as he followed the older swordsman down the road that would take them to their destination. He said nothing else for the duration of their walk, but in his mind he was working out plans already of how to exact a vengeance on Khrea, and of course cause more trouble. Smiling to himself, the boy was content his plans.

The wind that had been rustling through his hair during his flight had finally ceased as the large dragon known as Zephyr came to a halt some feet from the balcony. The dragon's rider got up slowly, calmly, each move clearly calculated and analyzed before it was taken. The blond-haired man had his hands in his pockets, gracefully walking from his previous position at the dragons neck and down the long snout of the creature. The distance from the window did not bother him in the slightest and he easily made the jump, landing silently on the ledge, still keeping his hands in his pockets.

He looked over his shoulder and a brief smile touched his lips. "You may go now, Zephyr. I have business to attend to." The dragon only nodded silently at him before turning itself over in the air and flying away from the building. Isaehn's smile reduced itself to the faintly amused expression he usually took when at the Order. He let himself into his room quietly, closing the doors that led out the balcony carefully before observing the dimly lit space. His eyes swept over the organized stacks of papers and books, casting a fleeting glimpse at his bed. A definite temptation but he had matters to attend to first.

As if on cue, there was a timid knock at his door, the softness of the sounds telling him that whoever was knocking clearly had never come to see him before. Not even bothering to fix up his hair, which was always in a state of perpetual messiness anyway, he approached the door and opened it casually. His eyes met with the form of a smaller boy, ah, a messenger. The boy was shivering as he held out an envelope, the ends sealed with wax.

"I... I was told to give this to y-you." He ended on a stuttering note as he met Isaehn's stare and immediately looked back down at his feet. Unimpressed, the man took the envelope and gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Delivered. Be on your way, you're wasting my time enough as it is." He closed his door before the boy could get a word in edgewise and frowned down at the envelope. Now whatever could this be? He walked over to his desk, a blunted metal knife he had made into his letter opener waiting for him on it's surface. He took the object and carefully worked the seal open, making sure not to damage the envelope or it's contents in the process. Flipping the paper over, his eyes skimmed over it's contents. As they did so, the frown disappeared and was replaced by a growing smirk of amusement.

So things were already in the works after all. "It would appear," He mused aloud to himself, purely for his own entertainment. "That Lethandrill has fallen... how very interesting." Yes, interesting and intriguing. So the gauntlet was serving it's purpose rather well after all. He glanced back down at the letter, reviewing the contents. There had been a few sightings of Talon V'lyn and that mage of his, Jennifer Live, at the palace of the steward. And... he narrowed his eyes, had he just read that correctly? He read it one more time to make sure--no, that was definitely there. To be more specific, she was definitely there. He grinned, this was turning out to be quite a game after all.

He laid the letter down on the desk, there were only scant few sentences regarding the prisoner and the Navile girl that had been trying to plead her case. Sleep now forgotten, the man turned on his heel and opened his door, heading out into the hallway. The pieces were all aligned so perfectly, now it was just a matter of getting them on to the same chess board. And he knew precisely how it was going to be done. After all, as concerned citizens of Ro'ell, why wouldn't the Order of Vyldi be worried about the sudden fall of Lethandrill or the actions of the steward? His report was already fresh in his mind as he made his way down the hallway to the leaders of the Order.

Alistair looked out from the balcony, watching the people go about their daily business on the city streets below. News had reached of what transpired in Lethandrill and, while Alistair cared little for what had happened, it gave the commoners something to talk about on what would usually be a normal, boring day. He yawned heavily, deciding to back to his office to go through his work of the day, something he had purposefully been putting off by being on the balcony in the first place. He entered into the adjacent hallway from the balcony, ignoring passerby's who, at this time of the day, were mostly students returning to their quarters after class. Alistair made his way down the hall, humming a gentle tune to himself listlessly while running his hand along the wall next to him. It wasn't that he was lazy, in fact most would say far from it. It was more so that he really didn't have a care in the world. His lack of drive landed him in a division of the Order that could basically do whatever it wanted so long as it operated within the Order regulations. Apart from the occasional disease or curse that needed a treatment, his days were mostly just signing documents and giving the occasional lecture on magic and history. Which, in his current form, was all he needed out of life.

Alistair opened the door to his office, his eyes immediately focusing on a sealed letter left on his desk. The letter had the Seal of The Assassins on it, a mark a member of the Order would know all too well. Scratching the back of his head and taking a heavy sigh, Alistair closed the door behind him and walked over to his desk, sitting down in his chair and grabbing hold of the letter. He broke the seal and opened the letter, his eyes skimming down its contents. A small smile curled on his lips and he folded the letter back into its original form. It disappeared into ash in his hands, its contents lost forever, save for those who know what was written. "Domieen's Gauntlet, huh?" He scratched his chin and shrugged. "If I received a letter, he probably did as well. I'll leave it to Raxieyl then. No reason for me to get involved in something outrageous." Alistair yawned heavily before resting his head on his desk, his eyes slowly closing for a quick nap before heading home.

A few minutes later, Alistair awoke, his eyes lacking any gleam of life or consciousness. He removed a piece of paper from his desk and began writing:
Is your interest in the Gauntlet scholarly, or something more practical? No matter, I will honor your request and meet with you. Due to my position I cannot leave Ro'ell but if you come here I will gladly tell you whatever you need to know. I will be at whatever location you deem best when the time is right.

The letter was short and to the point, something he usually wasn't. He then folded the letter and placed an Order of Vyldi seal on the front of it, with the name 'Jennifer Live' directly above the seal. Putting the letter in his right jacket pocket, he left his office and quickly made his way down to the hall and into the Research lab of the Restoration Division. "Simon!" Alistair called out. A young man with dark red hair and freckles appeared from a small group of mages across the room, rushing to Alistair and politely bowing to his leader. "See that this makes it to Skyfall with the utmost hast. It is to be delivered to the Order of Assassin's directly. You understand me?" The young man nodded and took the letter. "S-sir, are you feeling ill? You seem... odd." Alistair simply turned back toward his office and returned there just as quick as he had left. Simon was still curious about the whole situation, but he wasn't going to dare question a direct order.

Alistair opened the door to his office and went right back to his chair, putting his head back down on the desk and drifting off. "It is done Gri-..." Before he could finish muttering he was back to sleep, almost as if he had never gotten up in the first place.

Isaehn pushed his glasses further up his nose, letting his hands fall to fit comfortably in his pockets as he walked from the meeting hall. Tch, what a bore. His eyes were slightly narrowed more than usual, the charming albeit calculative smirk that usually fell upon his lips was replaced by a slight frown. The man was unamused, to say the least, over what had just transpired. He didn't even bother to pay attention to the hesitant and wide-eyed stares of the mages that caught sight of him as he turned down the hallway. His mind was racing as he slid into his quarters, eyebrows knit together faintly and causing light wrinkles on his forehead.

As always, he could tell when something was out of place and the letter on his desk stood out to him. However, he had no wish to read it here. He grabbed the letter and the opener he had previously used, walking over to the large paned windows that led out to the balcony. He was little surprised to find Zephyr reclining some meters from the balcony. The dragon always could tell when the man was annoyed preemptively. At his appearance, the dragon shifted, lifting it's large head and meeting his gaze. Isaehn said nothing, just closing the window doors behind him as he walked to the edge of the balcony. Zephyr took his hint and spread his wings, flapping his wings to gain a bit of altitude before gliding over near the balcony.

He took a practiced jump, landing on the snout of his dragon before taking his usual place at his dragon's neck. "Will we be flying for long, youngling?" The voice of Zephyr was quiet yet crisp. Isaehn shook his head, already playing with the opener and wedging it in between the seal and the paper.

"No, I just need some air from that place. The old fools get suffocating pretty quickly." He was already reclining on to his back as his dragon turned gracefully in the air and began to fly at a relaxed pace. The cool breeze against his cheeks and the rush of the wind through his air brought with it an amount of familiar comfort. Isaehn sighed, finally able to break the seal and lifting the letter in front of his eyes. This was the second one today. He read it over, eyebrows raising as he did so. He shifted on to his stomach, flicking Zephyr on the dragon's neck. His creature gave a low, guttural noise at this, signalling to the man that his attentions were gained.

"We've gotten a letter. That woman wants information on Domieen's Gauntlet." A pause in the wing movement encouraged him to continue divulging it's contents to his companion. "The mage, Jennifer Live. She also seems to be requesting a meeting." Zephyr nodded, his long neck swaying his charge a bit. The movement brought a whisper of a smile to Isaehn's lips--he always felt better when it was just the two of them.

"Will you explain, then, why it was necessary to take this flight without permission?" The man rolled his eyes, folding the letter and sliding it into his inner jacket pocket in the process.

"Like I said, it gets suffocating. Besides," He stretched a little, leaning down against his dragon's neck. "You'd roll over of boredom if I didn't take you for walks every now and again." The sarcastic joke earned an amused snort from Zephyr, a small blue flame coming from the right nostril of the creature. They carried on in silence, Isaehn straightening after a time with a yawn. Yes, this was exactly what he had needed. Being outside of that Order always cleared his mind and gave him a small sense of freedom that was always suppressed when inside the facility.

He sighed a bit. When he got back, he would have to write a brief letter of acceptance back to the Order of Riena to confirm that he would agree to the meeting. Though he'd have to be sure to note in a polite fashion that he had no intentions of leaving and if she wished to meet, she would have to come to Ro'ell herself. The thought brought with it an upturned twist of his lips. Yes, and if she came, there was a chance she would bring her as well. And indeed, that would be more fun than simply answering questions based on the mage's whims. It would also provide him a nice chance to deviate from the boorish orders that he had just been given earlier. Following rules straight down to the letter had never really been that fun anyway.

Zephyr sensed the cunning entertainment of his charge but did not voice any thoughts of it. The dragon had been around for quite some time and had long since noted the odd behavior of his companion. The youngling had much growing to do before he would realize that his plans and game pieces would not always be a reliable. Still, for the moment, he would not burst the child's bubble. After all, there was nothing wrong with letting him play his game--if but a little longer.

Astrid didn't mean to break it. Really. She never planned on these things actually happening. It was just...she couldn't help not doing it! The vase just looked so shiny and it was just begging to be prodded. So she prodded it.

And it fell.

Oops.

The assassin made a face as she felt Sebatian's gaze fall on her and burn holes in the back of her head.

"I can fix that." Astrid said quickly to no one in particular, just out of habit. Well, she did break things often. Most of the ancient magical artefacts (the ones she was definitely was not-allowed-to-touch-under-pain-of-death) in Skyfall were actually broken. Astrid had just acquired a great deal of superglue over the years and was getting rather good at repairing that kind of stuff.

Hey, practise made perfect.

The assassin's attention was taken off the currently broken vase (really, she would fix it. Maybe. Probably. Not a chance in hell) and turned to the man speaking to him and his companion. Stephano cocked his head and the general feeling of "wait...what?" shot through the bond. Astrid scowled as Stephano projected his confusion. Loudly.

"OK! You're confused! I get it! Now would you shut the feck up?!" Astrid whispered harshly, gaining a smack upside the head from Sebastian. Wow, he was not in a good mood today. At all. Astrid shook her head and made her way down with the rest of the group and arrived in a room full of books. The assassin felt her gaze drift towards Fukayna and Armen and sniggered. Ah, the art of insinutating. T'was a marvellous sport. Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, Astrid and Stephano browsed the library with very little interest. Or, Stephano browsed while Astrid looked at mythology books with pictures. The little dragon found great enjoyment with the books as Astrid did not have much literature (as you could imagine) and information was something he loved to learn.

Therefore, that opened up a huge area for Astrid to exploit.

"Wow, I'm pretty sure that's not legal. What do you think, nerd extrodinare?" The red head shoved an ancient (very likely priceless) mythology book carelessly towards her dragon.

"First, I am not a nerd. Second, be careful, that book costs more that it does to keep you out of prison. And three, that is a mythology book. You must have to take everything with a pinch of salt. Now, copy that text down for me." The dragon ordered from his perch on the table, his tail flicking to one of the many books he had open around him. His assassin grumbled but dutifully copied down the section he pointed out.

"So, what is this I'm writing anyways?"

"You'll like this. It's a sort of ancient "fairytale" telling the story of the dragon Gods."

"Like the ones who went apeshit and started tearing things to fuck?"

"Yes, those ones but before they went a little..."

"Absolutely fucking mental?"

"Emotionally imbalanced."

"That's one way to put it I guess." The assassin grumbled, writing the last phrase in her elegant script. "So what about that book?" Stephano calmly explained each book's contents, ranging from different species of plants, medical cures and defensive symbols against dark magic. Every now and then, Stephano asked Astrid to copy out some section of text to add to his little notebook. The assassin grinned as her dragon was in his element. Say what you will about him but he was very intelligent and was a well of information.

"And what about that one?" Astrid asked. Stephano blinked and looked down, embarrassed.

"It's a book of different dragon breeds..." The red head stopped, not having anything to say to that. Her dragon, despite their love-hate relationship, was very precious to her and she knew of his sore spot. He didn't match his typical breeding. Technically, he should be snow white, at least 20 times bigger and be able to breathe ice cold biting flames. Stephano was very small, large wings, a deserty brown and could breathe fire. The assassin pulled the book over to her and looked at the page. The words "Ice Dragon" was emblazed on the top in a fancy gold font. She looked up at Stephano, a rare true smile lighting up her features.

"You know it doesn't matter to me what you are, doll."

"Yes...but I would still like to know..." Stephano trailed off but before Astrid could reply she felt a jolt from the pit of her stomach and the light library disappeared, replaced with a dark stone room. The assassin dropped to her knees and coughed heavily, chest not used to the sudden relocation of her organs. Stephano shushed her, clawslightly rubbing against her back, wincing at each cough. When Astrid had recovered, she sighed heavily.

"I fucking hate mages." Stephano only offered a sneaky little grin.

"Except Jennifer."

"Except Jennifer. Cos she would have me dissected if I told her that." Astrid let her head rest against the wall, eyes darting around the room. No windows. One door. Well, shit. She eased herself up to her feet, still feeling a little weak. The assassin groaned at the sudden influx of head rush.

"Urgh, remind me not to travel by shitey magic again, cheers." The brown dragon that wrapped himself round her shoulders chuckled softly.

"I'll try, dear." Stephano replied, curling his long tail around his little notebook.

"Wait, the hell did that get here?" The dragon turned to look at his companion, a distinct look of "are you actually that dumb?" in his eyes.

"It was in your hand when we were put in here. Now, are you going to try the door or just complain at me the whole time?" Stephano asked, tail swishing impatiently. Astrid sighed heavily and made her way over to the door. She felt steadier on her feet now but still felt a little off. The assassin pushed the door and jiggled the handle to no avail.

"It's locked."

"Well, no. Someone would put us in an unlocked cell." Astrid didn't even acknowledge that with a comment, plumping for sending her dragon lovely ideas of him being served to the Nine at a feast.

"Lovely. Now are you going to pick that lock or what?"

"No time. If we're here then who knows where everyone else is."

"So what do you intend to do?"

"Torch it." And with a shared cheeky grin, the duo worked in sync with the dragon leaping up to set the door on fire and the assassin drawing her bow, ready for anyone who tried to stop them. The door was no match for the blazing dragon flame and was quickly reduced to cinders. The assassin stepped over the threshold, bow drawn and mind focused. However within a few seconds, the young woman frowned.

"No one's here..."

"Indeed. How odd." The dragon also expressed his confusion while he got back into his prefered position. However he also felt a little worry. If no one was here...then where were they?

"Hmm. let's go down here then." Astrid shrugged, gesturing towards the stairs, that and the door they had just come through being only fixtures in the empty room. The dragon offered no complaint and so the duo slowly crept down the stairs, the only noise being that of their breathing. Mentally however, the two reassured each other and offered comfort.

The assassin reached the bottom of the stone stairs and pressed her back (well, her dragon's back) against the stone wall. She slowly slunk against the wall and moved towards the door. The possible freedom. It was so close, she could taste it. Once they got out of here, the two could get back to the main part of Ro'ell, throttle the person who had the bright idea of stuffing them in a freaking cell and get the hell back to Skyfall. Astrid huffed heavily.

There was a reason why she hated mages so much.

Their stupid pride and ability to hold grudges in particular.

Just as Astrid's fingers brushed the latch on the door, she was flung backwards through the air, the wind whistling through her ears. The young woman gasped as her body smashed against the stone wall. Stephano groaned as her flexed his tail in pain.

"The hell was that?"

"I wondered when I would be seeing you again. You monster." Astrid blinked and then let out a loud sigh.

"You've got to be freaking kidding me." The assassin picked herself up off the floor, dragon still wrapped around her, feeling more and more like a comfrot blanket than a companion. She stood up and faced a mage she really wished not to see again. Ever again really. Now, the other mages may have disliked her for her troublesome nature and mischief but this chick? She hated the young assassin.

"I think not. Tis I. Lain had informed me you would be here but I did not know he meant right here. It saves me the trouble of finding you, I suppose." The mage spoke quietly, her voice sounding light as if discussing the weather. You didn't have to be too bright to hear the undercurrent of malice and dripping hate.

"Come on, Ariatyla, surely we can get past such a misunderstanding-" The assassin was cut off as the mage's face darkened and she extended a hand, throwing the young woman bodily against the wall. Astrid hissed as her back was pressed into the stone wall. Ariatyla quickly moved forward until she was nose to nose with Astrid.

"Misunderstanding?! You killed my sister, you insolent evil wretch!" Ariatyla flicked her hand away and Astrid flew into the wall opposite.

"Urgh, I feel like a pinball."

"Don't know why you are complaining. I'm taking most of the impact." Stephano grumbled, letting a little warning flit into his voice. They were in danger here. Real tangiable danger.

"You killed her!" Ariatyla screeched, hand flying to Astrid's chest pinning her to the wall yet again. The assassin hissed. She felt as if her bruises had bruises.

"Well, she was trying to take over Lastra...you can sort of understand why I was did it."

"She was merely trying to bring freedom and peace to our world once again!"

"Peace?! She wanted to subjugcate everyone who didn't have magic and kill off most of the other races!" Astrid spluttered, eyes wide. Did this psycho really fall for her mad sister's vision of "peace" that much? Aristyla threw back her head and laughed hysterically.

"Peace? You call this peace?! Magic is being repressed and contained. It is being made into a thing of disgust. We are not allowed to practise our magecraft outside these walls! This is no peace. This is a prison." The madwoman hissed, her eye dancing with madness and face pulled into a snarl.

Astrid made a face in return and let her mouth run. She was stressed, she was hurt and she had this madwoman shouting in her face. And she had noticed the madwoman's not so friendly friends skulking around the corners and coming slowly closer.

"This is why the High Nine are there. To make sure whackjobs like you and your fucking psychopants friends don't get on your fucking high horse and decide 'Hey! Who needs fucking humans/dark elves/Navile anymore?!'" The young woman snarled in response. Ariatyla stood back and her group of minions (who all looked nasty and beautiful at the same time. Of course. What other kind of mystic mage girl minion was there?) came closer.

"You are a obstruction. You are a killer. Your death will be your punishment." She turned to the others. "Kill her. And the dragon." With that, an army of mages descended upon the duo. Stephano lashed out with his claws as Astrid moved with her knives, slicing into limbs and muscle. A sudden scream sounded and Astrid grinned in satisfaction as she felt a muscle pop. That wasn't going to slow down a mage who could heal herself very much but damn, it was satisfying. Then the constant reassuring weight on her back was ripped away. The assassin turned around, eyes wide.

"NO!" Astrid screamed as a mage gripped Stephano's wings and pressed a knife against his throat. Another mage held his mouth shut tight and another had energy ties around his limbs. The small dragon bucked wildly as he tried to get back to his Astrid. Two mages grabbed the young assassin's arms and pulled them around her back. She carried on struggling as the knife wavered against Stephano's neck. She knew an ordinary knife would not make much difference to Stephano but she wasn't dumb enough to think this was an ordinary knife. Who knows what fucked up shit was on in that blade?

"So. I see you want to look after the dragon, hmm?" She flicked her hand and the knife slashed at Stephano's left wing, leaving a trail of red behind. Astrid snarled in response. Ariatyla grinned in response. She went to move the hand again but a flash of a knife becoming imbedded in her hand ceased the moment instantly with a screech. Astrid panted heavily, the mages who had let her arm free struggling to pull the wriggling woman back. That knife wouldn't kill her or even hurt that much but the satisfaction it gave the assassin was overwhelming.

Ariatyla moved over to Astrid and grabbed her face in her hands. The assassin stared up at the mage before her red eyes rolled into the back of her head. The young woman slumped boneless in the grip of the two mages. Ariatyla grinned to herself before looking back at the dragon and cocking her head.

"Now that wouldn't do. We can't have you around as well." The mage lifted her hand and Stephano was surrounded in a bright light. Then he found himself back in the lobby area they had first come from, standing beside the broken vase. The dragon stood for a few seconds before throwing himself forward to find Sebastian. Sebastian, a figure of authority. Of safety. He could get Astrid back.

The dragon;s thoughts were disjointed. His companion couldn't be heard. She just wasn't there. Stephano bit his lip and took off to find Sebastian or anyone else who could help. They had to help. They just had to.

Fukayna Muidrehd

Fukayna trembled very delicately as Isaehn removed his fingers from her chin, trying to fight down the flustered blush that came to her cheeks. Even now, he still knew exactly what to do to make her lose her calm even if, as she was aware of, he did not mean it. She watched him walk away with a crest-fallen expression, feeling a bit let down. Was that really all he had to say to her? After how long it had been? Was she only worth a few seconds of his time? No... she had been foolish to expect anything different. This was Isaehn and the man never changed. A warm hand on her shoulder made her look up, her eyes finding Armen smiling down at her slightly. She was unsure why he was smiling--perhaps to make fun of her? Armen defied her fear, however, as he uttered his next words.

"Would you like to come with me while I look around? I have a few things I'd like to research while we're here," A timid smile fell upon her lips as he offered his hand to her and she shyly took it. It was odd to feel his hand against hers--she had no memory of every holding hands with anyone, to be honest. Yet she felt a sense of relief wash over her. At least Armen wasn't pestering her, at least he seemed to understand... As he led her away, she didn't bother looking behind her at the others as they walked to the other bookshelf. Whatever they were thinking, she didn't want to ponder over it, sure that the thoughts were anything but positive.

He did not let go of her hand, even when they reached the library. She found comfort in this fact, though the smaller girl was apt to hide it behind a small smile. However, they did not spend long perusing through the literature when Armen tensed, letting her hand fall from his grip. There was something amiss in the atmosphere, something rather... off. She also tensed, the grip on her halberd tightening as she peering around to see where the unsettling presence was coming from. As if in answer to her private inquiries, a figure threw himself over the railing, landing gracefully in front of the duo. His eyes swept over the Elf and the woman, the former pushing Fukayna behind him. This motion was familiar, he had done this at Lethandrill too. Except this time, she was grateful, she could sense that whatever this other man was, he was powerful.

The man smirked at Armen, not even bothering with Fukayna. "Too damned nosy for your own good I see, Armen Sorien." The Elf's eyes narrowed as he observed the other carefully.

"And you are?" She gazed between the two, her lips thinning as she watched the events unfold.

"Lain Gareev. Not that my name matters much," The man who had identified himself as Lain flitted his eyes over to her, as if calculating, thinking. She did not know how to interpret him and took another step behind Armen, feeling antsy and hesitant. Armen spoke slowly, also getting the same sense that pleasantries were not going to last forever.

"What happened to everyone else?"

"Nothing that concerns you right now. I think you should be more worried about what I'm going to do to you now." It happened faster than she could process but she felt Armen's rough push against her body as she was shoved in another direction, Lain tackling Armen to the ground. Fukayna went sprawling on to the ground, her halberd clattering out of her hands and falling a few meters away. She rubbed at her side, catching sight of the horrid sight of Lain raising his fist and pounding it into Armen's chest. She heard the shattering of one of his ribs and the Elf gasped, blood spurting out from between his lips.

Fukayna silently panicked, grabbing at her furs and quickly getting to her feet. Her mind was racing as she saw Lain grab Armen by the front of his shirt, smirking crudely. "I don't much like making a racket so lets make this quick shall we?" She shivered, thoughts running rampantly inside of her. She was no match for him, not physically. Even if she used her furs, or somehow made it to her halberd in time, she would not be able to push him off of the Elf or do any amount of impressive damage. Her eyebrows furrowed together.

'Think, Fukayna, think!' She urged herself, trying desperately to come up with a plan. But she was out of options, she was running out of time! If she didn't somehow interfere with Lain, then Armen would... Armen would...

"Use your magic, little one."

Her breath hitched. She heard it. Clear as day. She was not sleeping, was not barely conscious. The strong, female voice reverberated through her brain with incredible force. She shivered--she had taken the oath of silence, she couldn't break it--she couldn't... Another punch from Lain broke yet another rib of Armen's, who let out a strangled yell of pain. The man was literally shaking from the force of the blow and Lain was showing no intention of letting up. No, this was not the time to be selfish. She would have to break it, it was the only way to save her companion.

She straightened her back and forced the words through her teeth. The words that left her lips were fuzzy, even she did not specifically remember what she said. The hum of magic once again running through her body, making her fingertips tingle, was enough to drown out all other noise. Lain looked up, eyes widened, now actually paying attention to her. The magic spiraled out from her fingers as it weaved a web around the other man, casting an illusionary cloud about his mind.

"What the hell...?" She faintly heard him swear, but it was like a murmuring in her mind. She narrowed her eyes, forcing herself to focus. It had been so long since she had preformed a spell, she already felt so weak from doing such a simple exercise. She made herself continue the conjure, the spell mimicking the appearance of the woman she respected the most in the field of magic. The fake Miss Jennifer smiled coyly, much like the real copy would've done and she saw Lain retract in hesitation, perhaps even fear.

"W-What are you doing here...?" The man faltered, staring at the woman as if she were really there. "You can't possibly be here, you are supposed to be with..." Fukayna withdrew her breath--this was the fatal flaw with illusionary magic. Once the person effected began to focus too deeply into real elements, the illusion could start to shatter. Already, the image of Miss Jennifer started to grow a little fuzzy and she tried to force it back to clarity. But it was too late, Lain had seen the tremor and he turned his eyes slowly back to her, clearly displeased. She let the grips of her magic go, feeling zapped and much weakened and her legs trembled as she attempted to remain upright. Her mind was slowly blanking out as their gazes met, the girl not knowing what to do next or how to properly defend herself with her energy this low.

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Isaehn Raxieyl
Isaehn was partially paying attention to the assassin, having grown bored within the first few seconds of idle chitchat. Fortunately, Zephyr had sensed the impeding boredom and had also trailed into the office behind him. Ah, at times, his dragon knew him a bit too well... Oh, that older man was blabbing something or other. Isaehn drew his gaze away from his dragon and stared back at Sebastian.

"Lord V'lyn wants to know about the gauntlets power. When he saw it in Lethandrill there was something strange about it. That gauntlet shouldn't have the power it has right now. Where would it get something like that? In my opinion, most importantly, why does the Steward Torak have it on his hand as of right now?" So many questions--what a bloody bother. Isaehn didn't even attempt to hide his yawn as he reclined back in his seat, lazily propping his feet upon the desk. Sebastian's nose wrinkled in discontent at this; it was clear it had been expecting for the mage to exhibit respect. Well, unfortunately, Isaehn was naturally rude and rarely if ever thought someone was worth that much time and effort to actually be respectful of.

Brushing a bit of his hair from in front of his eyes, the man answered in a flat, uninterested tone. "There are always nooks and crannies for objects to be found, Sebastian, surely you are aware of that? Many odd sorts of... places for things to just pop up..." He trailed off vaguely, aware he had not even addressed or answered the question properly. "As for why he has it, perhaps--" Before Isaehn could speak another silken word, a pulse of magical energy shot out through his room. He knew this feeling very well and it was one he had not felt in quite some time. He shot a look at Zephyr, who immediately straightened and Isaehn stood up quickly. He did not even bother with the other man, not skipping a beat as he maneuvered around the office and pulled the door open.

He moved out into the lobby, narrowed eyes instantly taking in the rather empty looking lobby. Damn those fools, already moving so fast? Sebastian ran out behind him, the older assassin exclaiming in surprise. "What the--where is everyone?" The tone turned harsh and Isaehn frowned as Sebastian spoke to him tersely. "You would not have had anything to do with this, now would you, Isaehn? Perhaps guiding me to the office to--" Irritating, irritating. Annoying, stupid assumptions. He cut the other off curtly.

"If you'd shut your mouth for a moment, then may..." He came to a halt, choosing not to speak. He was wasting time if he stood here talking and that magic burst had Fukayna written all over it. He looked around, no trace of the smirk left on his face whatsoever. The most logical location to have gone would be the libraries more towards the other end of the building. Few would venture there this time of day and it was a nice enough distance away from the lobby to not be overheard. He motioned to Zephyr to keep Sebastian busy as he paced himself quickly through the hallways, making himself keep composure.

If Lain had strayed too far from orders...

Isaehn strode a bit faster, coming upon the libraries in a hasty manner. The scene that met his eyes made his hand curl into a tight fist. The Elf could matter less to him, the fact that he was bloodied and bruised was a non-issue. But. The sight of Fukayna being threatened, when he had very specifically stated... Isaehn took a very deep breath and let out his voice in a low hiss.

"Data Manipulation," And at his words, the air that had been hanging stagnant in the room combined with the cooler air fluctuating in from the outside via the window. The air sped up enough to create a controlled torrent of wind, which blew Lain backwards and away from the smaller girl. Fukayna fell forwards and Isaehn was there, just as he was many years before to catch her before she met with the ground. He glared over at Lain, who was rubbing his chest with an amused grin.

"Ah, Isaehn... didn't expect you to come out to greet the events." The man spoke sarcastically, as if entertained by the attack rather than dazed by it. The mage's look darkened and he felt Fukayna shiver in his arms. She always did grow a bit fearful when he was angry.

"Just as I did not expect you to take things so far, Lain. To exaggerate your orders this much is pushing the boundaries." Lain gave a sharp laugh.

"Exaggerate? I was following them perfectly. The others are separated and in different parts of Ro'ell. I did precisely what I was asked." Isaehn narrowed his eyes, still not willing to take the others' word for it. There was definitely a part of the puzzle not present. Nowhere in the orders had it been stated that the Elf was too be harmed in any fashion, in fact, by the state of things, harming did not seem to be Lain's intentions. But he knew better than to let the man see that he was ruffled. Lain would exploit that.

"Not as perfectly as you project. And to involve Fukayna in this? If you honestly think--" For the third time that day, Isaehn found himself cut off, but this time around was by far the most unpleasant. His harsh words had been brought to a halt by a small patch of fur that was working it's way up his arm, having snuck out of his pocket during the verbal exchange. Lain watched the animal before smirking, chuckling and giving a shake of his head.

"Still not rid of that thing, I see? Well, as fun as this has been, I do have other matters to attend to." Isaehn knew his objections would be futile; Lain using the bear as a distraction to retreat away from the scene. Fukayna fidgeted in his arms the instant the other was gone and fought out of them, crawling over to where the Elf was sprawled on the ground. Sebastian came running into the library at that point, Zephyr right at the assassin's side. Isaehn nodded to his dragon to signal that the timing couldn't have been more perfect but his mind was already elsewhere. Just whose orders had Lain been working on? And why had he been attacking Armen? Suspicion clawed at his insides but he was going to have to ignore it for now. He needed to be level-headed and not let his attentions wander.

The mage straightened, dusting off his suit jacket and discreetly also brushing the infernal bear off of his arm. He cared not where it fell as, unfortunately, the wretched thing was surely to be back in his company before long. He spoke in a firm voice as calmly as he could manage. "Zephyr, go look for where the others were taken to. It seems things have... partially strayed off course and it would do best to make sure they are not being maimed in some horrific fashion." Zephyr nodded quietly and bowed, turning on his heel and leaving the room silently. Isaehn looked down at Fukayna, who was laying her hands gently against Armen's chest in concern. It seemed she had an interest, well... that was good to see. At least the girl was finally growing up, if but a little. He slid his hands in his pockets, already prepared for the line of questioning that was sure to come for the older assassin.

Mikeal sighed as he stepped into the city, a guard still glaring at him. The security had really been jumped recently, and no one said anything other then that some law-breakers were rumored to be roaming the city. Which was fine, but he rather preferred being to move without any suspicious looks. Still, it didn't really matter. As long as he kept calm, no one could really arrest him. He carried no weapons anyways. He wore a simple leather coat that went up to his knees, pale brown just like his wool pants, and a black shirt, which meant he was obviously no warrior, considering the lack of armor. Still it showed the paranoia that circulated the city that he'd been stopped anyways. And it didn't matter anyways. He was here now.

Ro'ell. The City of Mages. The city where he was born.

Mikeal had to grin as he felt nostalgia fill him, the old city welcoming him once more. He walked through the streets with old familiarity, able to feel his way through the city as he walked. Old alleyways turned into shops, familiar faces replaced with new, younger ones, none of it mattered. Home was home, and he to fight not to jump to the top of the rooftops and begin to leap across the city as he had in his youth. Instead, he focused, walking towards a store he'd frequented in his youth.

As a child, Mikeal had been a street rat, homeless and poor his entire life. The owner of a small store had taken a shine to his little gang of rascals, protecting and feeding them whenever he could. To this day, Mikeal couldn't think of anything more delicious then the simple meals given to him from the kindness of that old mans heart. Which was why the first thing he was doing was going to be visiting the old shopkeeper, seeing how he was doing.

Mikeal stepped past a group of gossiping young woman and entered the store. The old place, with simple marble floors and wooden tables, hadn't changed at all. It was empty now, except for a man about his age, large and burly wearing a white shirt and red bandana, wiping down the counter.

"If ye be needing anything ay'll be wit ya. Just give us momen' to finish." The man said in the dialect of the street folk.

Mikeal nodded, responding in kind. "I undastand. I jus' need to speak to the owner."

The man looked up, startled, than frowned. "Yer lookin at 'im."

He blinked, and frowned. "Well, whit happened to the ol one?"

"Died."

Mikeal froze, than sighed. In all honesty, he shouldn't have expected any different. The man had been old long ago, and Mikeal had left the city when he was rather young.

"I'm sorry to trouble ya. Jus, he was a ol mate o'mine, and I wanted to thank him for treatin me right."

The man blinks. "You use to live 'ere?"

Mikeal laughs. "Gods no! Not if ye be countin the streets!"

The man grinned, and walked around the counter. "I knew it! Mikeal!"

Mikeal smiled, knowing the jig was up. "How ye been Artan?"

The young men hug, thumping each other happily. "Gods its been tae long! Where've ya been lad!?"

Mikeal grins, clasping the mans arm in the handshake of the streets. "Traveling. I had ta take some time from the city afore the guard clasped me irons. Got intae some trouble out in the world, but I came back. But what aboot you! Owner of yer own store?"

Artan laughed. "The ol' coot got soft-hearted. He got me some wirk when I came of age. Gave me the place in his will."

Mikeal shook his head, smiling sadly. "He were a good man."

"Ya. Ya he was." He slapped Mikeal's arm. "Here, I'll get you a drink." Artan went behind the counter and handed Mikeal some water. Artan watched as Mikeal drank, before speaking. "Wey are you back Mikeal? You seemed well outside." Mikeal didn't answer. Artan and he sat in silence before Mikeal finally answered.

"Aboot a week ago, some assassins came after me. Freelance, not Talon's group."

"Talon?"

"Talon V'yln. Leader o' the Order of Reina. Good man, or so 'm told." Artan nodded in understanding. "It was Bosack 'dat put a bounty on my head."

Artan sighed. "Ya. Ya, he hasn't changed."

Mikeal had been just a boy when he first tangled with Bosack, the then and current gang leader of the group that roamed his old neighborhood. Bosack was a large powerful man, handsome in a dangerous manner, with a large jaw and wicked blue eyes, hair black as sin. Mikeal had always been a thorn in his side. Mikeal had once stopped a group of his men from raping some prostitutes that had refused them. Since then, Mikeal had made it a point to take on his thugs wherever he could. It was Bosack that had informed on him to the city officials, and it was Bosack who had been smiling as Mikeal was forced to escape the only home he'd ever known.

"Whet are ya planning on doing?"

Mikeal took a sip of water. Than he put down his cup and wiped his lips. When he spoke, it was hard and clear, no notice of his gutter-speak accent. "Well, what does anyone do when a man threatens his life? I'm going to find him. I'm going to destroy everything he owns in that pathetic castle of his. And then, I'm going to give him a chance to apologize, and turn himself in." Mikeal stood up. "And when he refuses... I'll kill him."

Artan shook his head. "Its madness. His army has only grown since you left. He's never been stronger, and now he some mages in his employ. Aeir's new mages. Those who were in the dark places of the world. You can't fight him without taking them down."

Mikeal smiled. "Well, now that yer done. Ya going ta help? Or continue ta pretend ya don' trust mae?"

Artan smiled back. Moments later the doors to the little store were locked, and Artan began to equip Mikeal with what he'd need for the nights assault.

"My name is Isaehn Raxieyl and you may address my companion as Zephyr. I am sure you've all got your own sets of questions and all will be answered to the best of my ability in due course. No doubt the most pressing of these issues is Domieen's Gauntlet, I wager. I will speak with Sebastian first, the rest of you may busy yourselves among the literature until our return. It would be best for you to ready your questions so this visit goes smoothly. Zephyr, do entertain our guests in case they get bored."

Khrae looked up as two men entered the room, one of which quickly took charge. His introduction was short and to the point, though rather blunt, and then he was gone again with Sebastian in-toe. The older swordsman merely watched the pair disappear with the older assassin before redirecting his attention else where, towards the vast expanses of the library around him. Despite having spent hours upon hours upon days simply reading as a child and up to his age now, he was never one to not take advantage of learning more if he possibly could, and he knew he could. Ancestors were only useful for so much information, and that was something that was always changing and adapting with new times, and while Khrae valued what he'd gathered from meditation, he knew sometimes he shouldn't rely on them entirely. Thus the man found himself navigating the shelves, eyes scanning for anything of even the slightest intrigue and yet still somehow managing to maintain lock on Dante. The boy seemed to be more absorbed in being as discreet as he could about turning books upside down in their places, or simply making it so they faced entirely around, leaving one only open to see their pages on the shelf instead of the spine.

Shaking his head and folding the book in his hands shut with a soft thud, Khrae looked to his student whom had just finished with rearranging the meticulously organized books into a manner that more suited his rather childish manner. In this case, apparently draconic history and herbal alchemy were of the same genre and thus should be next to one another.

Sighing, the man knew at least this meant that Dante was once more back to his old self. During their traveling is when Khrae had confronted the boy further, only to find that it was as he suspected which occupied and clouded his young mind. Seeing though as Dante would never confess to something so embarrassing as being attracted to the woman, and because all clan members were linked spiritually, Khrae found it easy enough to infiltrate the boy's mind through meditation and ascertain exactly what was hindering him. A conversation which bordered somewhat on 'the talk' was the following exchange, and after reassuring guidance from his master is when the boy seemed to ease a bit, if only enough to stop staring at the girl while they were riding to their destination.

Games back and and Dante returned to his normal demeanor however meant that Khrae's duties were to once more be upheld, and thus with silent steps he appeared by the boy, his sudden and sharp tone catching him entirely off guard.

"Dante! Just what do you think you're doing with these books?" The man nodded to the stack the boy held, or at least what remained from after he'd jumped and lost about a quarter of his initial load.

"Oh, ah. K-Khrae," the boy dropped the books and used his foot to nudge them beneath a nearby chair, as if that would hide evidence against his crimes. "Er-r.." he scratched the back of his head and looked around. "Well, these books looked... uhm.. old.. sooo I was gooing to... clean... them... Uh, yeah..."

"You were replacing them on the shelf and then just dropped them. Any mending you intended to administer was just literally thrown onto the ground and dispensed of."

"Right... Well.. you se-"

Khrae had sensed it. Imminent danger. Where it came from, what it was exactly he wasn't sure, but immediately he was turned entirely around, Dante forced behind him while he faced whatever it was that came for them. His left hand clasped tightly around the hilt of the sword on the opposite side of his person while his right hand took steady hold of the boy. It happened too quickly though, and even if the spell couldn't been slowed, Khrae had no defenses against any kind of magic, nor was he even a user of it despite what the Order of Vyldi said. His power came from a purer energy, but that was hardly important.

Empty. Well, not entirely. One wooden door outlined in steel and rivets was positioned to his left while there were a few tables elsewhere, pushed up against the far walls. They were barren, though not dust covered. Rather useless, but very well. The air seemed heavier, either a clue or simply some sort of odd effect attributed to magic having just been used, and as Khrae looked around, the fact that Capella had been relocated with himself and Dante as well triggered several more questions, but he didn't voice them. Standing now from the stance he'd taken previously, the man glanced around warily.

"Er.. Khrae," Dante said, stepping forward. "What just happened?"

Khrae had no answer, but remained silent. They were here under jurisdiction of the Order of Reina for this mission, and he himself along with Dante were part of the Order of Vyldi. Whoever had just committed this act was either drowning in audacity, or someone of great power. At least politically speaking. Though then again, this meant either he or Dante had done something wrong and perhaps this was the Order of Vyldi detaining them, because they said they would be watching, or this same fate was enacted on the other members of the party as well, thus meaning that someone else entirely was the culprit, and the information they were seeking was something someone didn't want anyone to know of. Of course the Order of Vyldi's mages probably would've just dragged he and Dante back into the meeting room, so he dismissed that idea for now. The next question was figuring out where they were and how they'd get back to where they needed to be.

Unfortunately for him though, Dante had thought of that before he did, and so the boy had moved to investigate the door. Wherever they were was probably still in Ro'ell, because not many other places have traps setup that included enchanted door handles.

The shift from the room to a brighter, even more empty place was sudden and unexpected as the boy's fingers made contact with the bewitched metal. Though this time it seemed to only affect Dante.

A cool mist flooded the area, and a brilliant light which seemed to come from everywhere overwhelmed the expanses of the fog, making everything seem to glow. Whether or not he'd of noticed that however, was irrelevant, because the spell dug straight into his subconscious and fabricated the single most powerful thought which occupied his mind. Something that would keep him trapped within the clutches of the illusion-type magic, usually a fear to drive him insane, or a happy memory to ensure he'd never escape.

What the boy was looking at as the fog gave way in front of him seemed to materialize bit by bit. Creeping forward, the air tugged at him, dragged him towards the figure of the woman, her elegant, sleek black hair let down, collapsing around and framing the delicate features of her face, her perfect complexion and flawless, soft skin. The tips of her ears protruded just slightly from the gentle rolls of her silky hair which halted, curled around and caressed the base of her neck and shoulders. Her usual leather attire seemed tighter, seemed less, lacking entirely except for the straps which clung greedily to her perfect shape, the lithe form which taunted him through thick clouds of white. Dante simply watched, completely entranced at the figure whose deep eyes sparkled at him, whose warm smile invited him.. He reached forward to hold her, to find out what she felt like in his arms, what she felt like should she wear his embrace...

Khrae simply slapped him.

"Whatever you're intending I do suggest you cease," he said dryly, . He knew exactly what was happening, and he didn't even need to try to imagine what the boy was thinking and see due to the potent magic, because frankly it was probably the same thing he'd found when he had first entered his head. The hard back-hand however seemed to do the trick in stopping the boy's advance as Dante sat up abruptly, shaking his head, his features shifted back to their normal, oblivious state of confusion. The boy rubbed the red mark on his cheek tenderly, entirely flustered and lost as to what had just happened.

"W-Wha.. The hell?" he stammered, standing quickly, trying to hide that anything had happened. He wasn't sure exactly what he was doing on the outside, but he knew what he'd been seeing in his head. At least he understood enough to realize he'd just been captured within the grasp of some sort of spell, again.

"Don't touch the doorknob." Khrae replied, stepping forward past the boy and towards the heavy wooden object which stood in their way.

"Yeah, right.." Dante said sheepishly, looking to Capella to see if perhaps she'd witnessed anything. He knew she probably did, and so he turned to hide his red cheeks, hoping only that whatever had happened wasn't anything too embarrassing. It was bad enough having Khrae walk into his mind and then give him the talk... now.. Well.. Dante decided it was best to just pretend nothing happened, and so he looked to the man who now stood with his eyes closed, arm outstretched towards the obstruction, palm flat and hovering just over it.

Khrae didn't want to use it again, but he didn't trust touching the door physically, not when he knew the wood itself could very well be enchanted too. Thus, he simply took in a calm, slow, deep breath before releasing it, detaching himself and allowing the embodiment of the ancestors, using their power. Directing the sudden surge through his shoulder, down his arm and out his palm, he opened his eyes just after the door gave way, cracking and exploding outwards under his palm, splintering away and continuing out into whatever was behind it in chunks of varying sizes of wood.

That complete, the man let out a sigh as the power drained from him before continuing out the now open doorway, the metal frame which had covered its edges being the only thing left.

Of course though there were guards on the other side. There's always guards. Lovely.

The Dragoness' eyes snapped wide open. She'd been sitting in the corner of the library, doing little in particular. Actually, it had taken her quite some effort to resist the urge to either fly out the nearest window, or torch the entire place to the ground. Possibly both. Mages were one of the types of Humans she loathed above all else, and mage guilds were possibly her least favorite place next to a cage. She'd had far too many run-ins with similar establishments and their high-and-mighty members to trust the place around them or the people in it. And so, it came as very little surprise to her when she perceived a spell being cast with herself as the target. She supposed she could have tried to move herself out of the way or otherwise protect herself, but, she realized, that was not an option. The same power, whatever it was, was about to take affect on both Khrae, and, more importantly, Dante.

Who is it who dares raise their hand against Capella and her hoard? She thought, but alas, there was no one to challenge with these words, nor was there any time in which to do so. Bracing herself for the inevitable, she instead was abruptly moved from one location to another.

When she came to herself a moment later, her surroundings had abruptly changed. A blank, dark room, devoid of any furnishings save some unused tables near the corners, its air heavy with magic, was what now met Capella's eyes. She narrowed her amber eyes, glancing warily about herself and quickly moving closer to Dante, who was, thankfully, still in her presence. Khrae was there as well, and seemed to have noticed what she had perceived - some kind of enchantment on the doorknob - but her hoard wasn't so aware of his surroundings, it seemed. Touching the knob, he slowly turned around as the room filled with a radiant mist, and then, to the Dragoness' perplexity, he began to walk towards her as though bewitched, spreading his arms as though to embrace her. The spell... it must have been some kind of an illusion of somebody he cared for greatly. Well, although it was rather amusing seeing him act this way, Capella was torn between this feeling of enjoyment and an emotion of simmering, irritable rage. Whatever Dante was seeing couldn't have been an image of her. Even when she'd tempted him upon first meeting her, the most he'd done was try to impress her, then drop any sort of advance entirely. Yet now, he was seeing someone who could inspire such a reaction...? Capella was a jealous dragon, and realizing that she was second best to an inferior creature in the mind of the boy she wanted to claim for her own was enough to fill her with anger. Who was it who had done this? Under whose enchantment did the boy's mind wander? It must have been a member of their group, doubtless someone they'd been traveling with. Hmm... Could it be the white-haired girl? No, doubtful. She and Dante had hardly interacted, and Capella had kept a close eye on the boy. It couldn't have been that red-headed idiot, either. Then, the only person that left was-

The Dragoness scowled. That damned Naville, she thought. So, not only does she want to insult my pride, but now she's trying to take my treasure?! Insolence. Unforgivable, humiliating insolence! I'll beat her within an inch of her life and see how fun she thinks it is to try and disgrace me then! But... Damnit! I can't. I entered into a contract with these two, and were I to do that, whatever she's done to Dante will only make him hate me for it. Upon my honor and my advantage, I can't even lay a finger on her...! Damnit, damnit, damnit, DAMNIT! That cunning, conniving witch! She knows I can't touch her, and so she's just rubbing that in my face? I... I'll end her! The first chance I get, I'll kill her for this! I don't care how long I have to wait or how far I have to go, I'll end that worthless elf's life! And yet, promise that to herself though she might, Capella began to realize something. This situation... nothing about it was normal at all. Granted, if she were to betray the group by slaying one of its members, she'd lose her best shot at the power she so craved, but it wasn't that she was worried about. Rather, she was more worried about what the strange Human boy standing in front of her thought of her actions. She was worried that she'd lose the chance to claim him and his company. Why was that? She was lonely, to be sure, but risking so much, swallowing her pride and letting her dignity be torn apart before her eyes, being bound in a contract of equals to Humans... Why was she doing so much, just for the sake of one mere Human? The way things were now, she was beginning to act much more like a member of the species she detested than she cared to admit. She was so powerless like this, so weak, it was shameful to her, and yet, she couldn't shake the feeling of needing... something! She didn't know, but there was something she was missing despite all of her draconic glory. She had to find it, and this boy, in some way or another, might just have been the key to what she was looking for. She didn't know what it was, but she couldn't risk losing his favor until she did.

But... in that case, what was she supposed to do? He was already under the enchantment of her enemy. Even if she claimed him as part of her hoard, what was stopping him from simply walking out? If she tried to detain him by force, or to destroy the witch who had so ensnared him, he would just hate her for it. Not only would she be alone again, but the one person who had accepted her without question would have joined the ranks of her many enemies. She'd been called a monster and treated like one for long enough to be used to it, but the prospect of Dante looking at her with that same, condescending hatred in his eyes and saying those words... It was enough to make even her, the mighty and powerful serpent of a great and renowned tribe, feel afraid and insecure, as though she was just some meek Human girl.

A loud explosion snapped her back to reality, and she realized that not only had Dante recovered from his trance, but Khrae had blown open the door. Several shouts from beyond the breached portal tipped Capella off to the fact that there were evidently guards to be dealt with. Smirking wickedly, she extended her claws, her scales creeping across her skin and beginning to burn with a searing black light. Her eyes slit vertically, and gleamed with a sickly golden hue.

"Dante," She hissed quietly, a mirthless, cruel grin emerging across her features. "Please stay back. If they try to harm you, I'd really rather not you sully your eyes by watching what happens to them." With these words, she stepped in front of him, and out from beyond the door as the guards assembled in the room beyond. But Capella was hardly even interested in them, rather, she was busy suppressing the urge to lose herself in a fit of carnage she knew she'd regret later. For it wasn't just her hatred of the Naville driving her to wrath now, but rather, this place seemed all too familiar. Oh, how she hated mages and their laboratories.

Various arcane glyphs, notes, and charts adorned the walls of the rather dimly lit chamber, showing that, although it had evidently been converted into a cell block, it had never quite lost its old purpose. Cages were piled high in the corners of the room, several containing rare and unusual creatures to be cut apart or otherwise experimented upon. A nauseating nostalgia permeated the room, and Capella wanted nothing more than to burn it down then and there.

"H-halt! What are you doing here!? This section is forbidden!" One of the guards shouted. Capella sneered and gave her reply.

"Depends on where here is. I'm afraid I really don't know. Would you be so kind as to tell me, or would you prefer if I asked more forcefully?" She idly uncrossed her arms, gesturing offhandedly with her claws and making them painfully visible. The guard blanched, and gave an audible gulp, but no reply.

"I asked you where I am," She said again, more pointedly this time. "Tell me. Now."

Zephyr had not wasted any time in carrying out his rider's orders. He had been around the youngling long enough to understand when Isaehn was concerned, for he had felt the fluttering of the anxiety in his stomach. Yes, just as he was sure the mage had felt. Though the man would not admit it, he had been worried for Fukayna. The thought made Zephyr smile just slightly. His rider was an interesting one. The smile faded to his usual blank expression as he made his way through the corridors, taking quick strides with his long legs. While musings on his master's way of thinking were vaguely interesting, they were not his primary focus now.

The male paused, tilting his chin upwards as his nostrils flared, sniffing for any traces of magic left behind. There was a dispersed trail spanning throughout the entirety of the Order. From the different traces of mana lingering about, it was clear to Zephyr that the previous residents of the lobby--those involved with the Order of Riena--had been sent to different locations within the confines of the facility. He was already more than aware of the dangers this posed, having been in the company of Isaehn for quite awhile to see how things functioned.

He sensed a stronger scent, one whom he instantly recognized. Ah yes, that woman--she was similar to his kin but not quite. He narrowed his eyes, the existence of the dragoness in the human body was in itself an oddity and disturbing at that. But he would have later to ponder, right now, hers was the strongest mana trail to follow. He slid his hands into his pockets, much like his rider was prone to do, as he walked through the hallways. There were very few mages around and all were too frightened to look him in the eyes. This fact would have made him sorrowful many many years ago but now, it was merely a numb fact of life.

As he rounded the corner, he saw the entrance to the western spire, guarded, as he expected. Taking a deep breath, he blew out gently from between his lips. Though not nearly as effective as his wings would've been, he was able to use enough of his inner dragon essence (despite it having been slightly tampered with by Isaehn's data manipulation magic) to create a controlled gust of wind. The torrent twisted through the air, knocking against both guards who couldn't have seen this attack coming. Both were instantly knocked unconscious, making Zephyr frown a bit. He hadn't thought he had used that much power, but then again, humans could be incredibly frail at times.

Shrugging, he lightly stepped over the two bodies, whispering an apology as he did so. He did not enjoy harming others, quite the opposite from the one he deemed as his master. He progressed a bit farther up the spiral staircase (what was it with mages and their infatuation with staircases?), his body tense as he heard a loud boom, followed by scattered voices.

"...are you doing here!? This section is forbidden!" The frantic protests of a guard stationed up above, no doubt. There was what sounded to be mirthless laughter and a feminine voice spoke up.

"Depends on where here is. I'm afraid I really don't know. Would you be so kind as to tell me, or would you prefer if I asked more forcefully?" A pause, though Zephyr understood the lethal threat behind her words. "I asked you where I am. Tell me. Now." He sighed, brushing the strands of black hair out of his eyes--something he never had to do as a dragon. However, from her words, it would be best not to bide his time any longer. Narrowing his eyes, he pushed open the door leading into the long hallway, eyes immediately falling upon the girl with the turquoise hair. The guard jumped, turning to see Zephyr standing behind him.

"H-How'd you get here?!" He exclaimed. There were too many noises--too many to alert the other guards stationed. The male did not pause, stepping forwards and wrapping his arm around the man's neck in a sleeper hold. The guard struggled, certainly, flailing his arms around but Zephyr did not let up until the guard fizzled from conscious and hung limp in his arms. He dropped the man carefully on to the ground and straightened. The dragoness did not look pleased, in fact, borderline infuriated. The male cracked the slightest of smiles, answering the question from earlier.

"The western spire, dragoness. A more forbidden part of the Order--which is why I am here. To escort you back." The smile faded, he was never overly good at pleasantries and disliked speaking for longer than necessary. There were two other males, one naive and young looking with messy, black hair. The wide eyes and dazed look in them portrayed a sense of innocence. The man next to him was much older and much stronger too, by the feel of his aura. Zephyr looked between the trio, thinking quickly to himself. The others had surely been taken away but for now, he would have to worry about these three. The western spire was where the Order kept it's most elite texts, among it's darker secrets. Even Isaehn was very cautious to mention just what was in this section of Ro'ell, skating around the issue the one time Zephyr had deigned to ask.

He was sure the female would be a bit too emotionally volatile to listen to sound reasoning so he instead turned his attentions to the older male. Before he could speak, however, there was a yell from down the corridor as four more guards caught sight of the group and began to run towards them. Zephyr narrowed his eyes, once more blowing out from between his lips. This torrent of wind was more forceful than his last, hitting the guard in the front, who bounded against the wall and fell onto the floor. The gust hit the next two, who collided with one another before falling backwards on to the fourth. It was relatively quick work, to be honest, just as the male preferred. Clearing his throat, he once again continued.

"As I was going to say, it is imperative we leave now." He said quietly before gesturing to the staircase he had just taken. He was overly casual with how easily he had taken out the guards, the men not even having posed a threat to him whatsoever. Years of experience did that. The guards he had knocked out should've still been unconscious but that did not mean they should linger.

Dante

"Dante," The boy looked up suddenly as Capella spoke, himself still quite flustered as to what had just happened. "Please stay back. If they try to harm you, I'd really rather not you sully your eyes by watching what happens to them." Dante nodded, not entirely realizing her statement but more so simply acknowledging that she'd made one. He then watched as she moved in front of him and out the door, into the room beyond where Khrae and apparently several others were facing off. Shaking his head and stepping forward, he tried to occupy himself with following the others to investigate what was outside, hoping perhaps that the conversation which was being exchanged would be enough to distract him from the images that kept playing through his mind.

Outside one of the guards was yelling, demanding an answer as to why these three strangers had just appeared in what seemed to be a laboratory. Dante's eyes moved back and forth across the walls, emblazoned with odd symbols, pieces of parchments with the same strange scribblings, charts and graphs, all seeming to glow in the dim torchlight. The words, which is what he assumed they were, simply confused him, so instead his attention drifted to the cages, jars and other such containment units, each holding within it some sort of interesting specimen, a few of whom seemed to be outrageously deformed.

"I asked you where I am," Capella's voice rang out again, sounding less than pleased. "Tell me. Now."

Dante looked from the backs of the Dragoness, to his mentor, not sure of the situation. Khrae had done nothing so far, but he knew the man would be formulating plans in his head and have them ready to execute flawlessly. While the boy so hated the man's stuck-up ways, his lack of humor and infatuation with the tedious 'exercise,' as he called it, of meditation, he still relied heavily on the man and trusted him in these situations. Though this time it seemed that whatever Khrae may have been planning as an escape, either combat or negotiation, it wasn't necessary.

"The western spire, dragoness. A more forbidden part of the Order--which is why I am here. To escort you back." The man from earlier stepped forward, over the body of the guard he's just taken down, the one which had been keeping the group from progressing. Dante cocked his head to one side, amazed at the ease in which he'd just seen the guard collapse, albeit some struggling. Khrae focused mostly on meditation before any swordplay or melee combat practice, claiming that he'd need to learn to clear his mind before he even thinks of engaging an enemy physically so as to avoid missing the small details which would kill him in combat, but then again that's around the time when Dante zones. Of what the Khrae did teach him, it hadn't included the simple yet seemingly effective manner in which the man had incapacitated the guard. Dante wanted to do that.

He couldn't remember at all what the man's name was, he couldn't even remember the name of the one whom had introduced him, the one they'd come to see, but that hardly mattered. Dante continued watching in awe as four more guards advanced, having noticed what was happening. This unnamed savior turned and seemed to simply breath in their direction, the force coming out as a torrent of wind which send all men sprawling backwards into a heap of men and armor. How he did it, the boy was unsure. He saw no sudden surge of power that rippled through the man, no glowing of eyes, and best of all, no repercussions that involved extreme fatigue. In fact it seemed like it had taken nothing at all, that alone meaning that what power the man wielded was greater than Khrae's. Dante must find out who this man was. If there was some other combat style, some other way to unlock his powers or gain even better ones without having to meditate and go through Khrae's stunningly boring processes, he'd love to find them.


Khrae

Khrae had placed a gentle hand on Capella to try to calm her, easily sensing her building rage. The fact that she'd presented her claws could've been potentially hazardous too, because if he could avoid combat he would, and he didn't want the guard to immediately assume foe. As he was about to speak however, another man appeared, the one from earlier, Zephyr. Khrae remained unmoved as he quickly and effectively removed the guard from the equation, and answered the Dragoness' question, though it seemed just as he was going to be addressed, the man had to stop and deal with the four others which had decided to make their move. That finally completed is when the man finished what he was saying.

"As I was going to say, it is imperative we leave now."

Khrae nodded in his agreement. "We thank you for the assistance." He would've elaborated on how they ended up there and everything else in the situation which didn't seem to add up, but he knew of the probable time restrictions and overall necessity to be somewhere safer before discussions. The man's own words simply consented more to that notion, so without a further word he glanced back to Dante only once, then proceeded after Zephyr.


Arriving back where they'd began, Khrae took stock of the situation. It seemed everyone else was gone, as expected, save for the Elf and silver-haired assassin. Sebastian and Isaehn were of course there, and they seemed to be in a much better state than the other two, each holding one in their laps. The Elf whom, when Khrae had first seen him, looked as if he'd just escaped imprisonment with regular beatings, appeared just as he did that day, minus the malnutrition. The young woman in the mage's lap seemed fine, conscious but seemingly scared enough to where she refused to move, and Khrae couldn't help but be curious as to if they had encountered the assailant. If that were the case, obviously they'd fended him off, and in Khrae's mind he was running through scenarios of how the battle could have occurred, intrigued at the state of both. Either the Elf was defending the girl, or she was more powerful than she seemed. If the latter was the case though, whatever power she possessed was something she probably wasn't used to using, or she was simply shocked at what it caused.

"The heck happened here?" asked Dante suddenly, walking forward and looking to both figures.

"Silence," Khrae said quickly. He looked to Sebastian, their leader on this mission for an answer, though just a moment later his eyes merely witnessed the man get hit from behind by a blur of dull brown. The form of Stephano materialized after the initial impact, causing the older swordsman to raise an eyebrow. Astrid seemed fairly attached to the dragon, harmless bickering aside, and with the current events, he could only assume what the presence of one of the pair without the other could mean. Obviously Sebastian sensed it too.

"Stay here and keep watch. Heal the elf, mage," said the elder assassin quickly, setting aside the Elf and directing the last statement to the mage. Khrae's gaze shifted from one to the other before moving forward.

"If you'd like, I may be of use. To offer my assistance is only necessary." Despite only knowing these people for the few days when they'd met and then when they were on the road together, Khrae could not simply let danger to them go unnoticed. His own morals demanded he at least try to assist, and at the very least he could try to get retribution for whatever havoc Dante may cause later. Unwavering, the man awaited an answer. Through his peripheral vision though, he could see his student kneeling over Armen. Whatever he intended to do, if anything, he only hoped it was useful. Make his ancestors proud for a cha--...

Khrae sighed inwardly. No, Dante, nudging him with your foot does nothing to help.

Isaehn Raxieyl

He was faintly surprised Fukayna had chosen to stay in his arms after all, he had been anticipating her shuffle over to the unconscious Elf. Yet the girl had not moved, though she was an unnatural type of still. He could safely assume she was feeling the proper amount of shock after having let her magic loose after so long, probably also fear. He was carefully surveying the area, the older man hurrying over to where Armen was sprawled on the ground. The older assassin shot him a rather nasty look--Isaehn could only imagine what was going through the man's head. He need not imagine, for Sebastian made it rather plain from his facial expressions that he did not trust Isaehn in the slightest. Perfectly fine by him, he couldn't be bothered to give a damn about the other anyway. The only one that mattered in the room was safely in his arms, shocked perhaps, but still safe nonetheless. Sebastian spoke in an irritated, low voice as he looked the elf over.

"I thought that this place was secure. You'd better hope to Vyldi that whatever happened to the others and to this elf doesn't come back and point to you. Should we find that this was a scheme of yours..." The man trailed off, having rested the Elf's head against his chest for closer observation. Isaehn rolled his eyes--he never took kindly to being given orders by someone who was most definitely not his superior. His grip on Fukayna's small body tightened slightly in his annoyance but he let it pass.

"I have nothing to hide, but you are perfectly welcome to think what you like," He said shortly. He was being careful not to say anything that could possibly antagonize the older man into further suspicion. It would look bad for Fukay--His eyes narrowed. He was beyond this, why did he still care what happened to her? Holding her like this reminded him of past things but that's precisely what they were. Past things. He ignored the thoughts that were coursing through him and merely sighed in an attempt to be rid of them. Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised he was having odd thoughts. This whole situation had thrown him for a loop. Lain had taken it much too far. While it was true this member of the nine never followed anything straight down to the letter, his leaps and bounds of exaggeration had potentially endangered the whole entire plan. There was also the matter of the order given to kill Armen...

'Just who gave you that order, Lain...?' He thought to himself with furrowed brows. It was disquieting, to say the least, but dwelling on it would grant him no answers. Sebastian had been dabbing at the elf's wounds with a cloth while he had been thinking, though the fabric was much dampened with blood by this point. The man sighed roughly and spoke curtly once more.

"You can start by healing him," Orders, again? Really? He hadn't really paid much attention the first time around--why would it be effective the second time? He was saved from the snarky retort that was on the tip of his tongue as his faithful companion Zephyr returned upon the scene, with a motley crew in his company. Skimming his eyes over the individuals, it was the dragoness and the two phoenix knights he had briefly been informed about. Tch. Fukayna fidgeted within his arms and Isaehn looked down, the silver-haired girl weakly pressing her palms to his chest. She was trying to move herself away shakily, though barely succeeding on her own. Sighing again, he gave her a bit of assistance, releasing his grip on her and letting his hands drop. It was obvious she was worried about the elf and she brought herself closer to Armen just as Sebastian growled one last time for Isaehn to heal the wounded.

There was no time to explain how his healing abilities worked, for the assassin had already hurried off with the brown dragon that had come bursting in loudly. This effectively left him alone with the other individuals. He pushed his glasses further up his nose, not a hint of a smirk on his face. He was not amused in the slightest.

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Fukayna Muidrehd

Fukayna placed her hands upon Armen's chest, unconcerned by the blood flecks that coated her fingertips when she touched him. She trembled a bit, anxious and frightened. The first time she had met him, he had been battered and bruised in the dungeon. It had not been so long since his escape and she feared his body had not had enough time to recover so soon after it's brutal treatment. She pressed her fingers against the skin, underneath the muscle, she could feel the cracks in his ribs. She was careful as she pressed down, moving slowly over each rib to assess the damage as best as she knew how. One, two... three... She bit her bottom lip in frustration.

'I'm sorry...' She mouthed to the elf silently, though the motion was surely unseen for her bangs fell clearly over her whole entire face with her head bowed the way it was. She removed her fingers, now sliding them into her furs, which were dangling loosely from her arms. She pulled out her notepad carefully, though some of the blood from Armen smeared on the top page. In frustration, she tore it out rather quickly and took out her pen, writing as fast as she could with her unsteady hands. Her handwriting was messier than usual but at least it was legible. She held up her note for Isaehn.

"Can you heal him?" Isaehn's eyes flashed with something, though she couldn't be sure what. The moment passed quickly and the mage pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. He completely ignored the other three and spoke to her quietly.

"You know my limitations. I will not be able to heal him properly without suffering from the same injury and in this situation, that would not be wise." She lowered her notepad, crestfallen. She tried not to think that Isaehn was being selfish--what he said was logical. It wouldn't do to incapacitate him, with things being so up in the air as they were. Still, being told "no", however indirectly, filled her with a cold feeling of dread. She wasn't even able to help the person who had watched over her when she had fainted back at Skyfall. She sniffled, quickly wiping at the tears that welled up to her eyes. If Isaehn had seen, he did not make any indication of it as he stood up with his usual air of casualness.

"As for you three," He said, finally addressing the other companions Fukayna admittedly had not even turned around to survey. "I see Zephyr brought you here without any hitches. Would I be correct?" He directed his last question at his companion, who merely nodded but did not say anything. "Good. Well, I do regret to inform you, I will be unable to heal your elven companion. That wouldn't be the more beneficial route at the moment." Isaehn said with a shrug.

"As I do not like to be flooded with dozens of question--the elf was attacked by a man who meant to deal harm to both him and Fukayna. I halted the advance but as you can tell, he slipped away in the midst of the confusion. My suggestion would be for us to wait for the rest of your companions. There is nothing for me to guess at or answer to until all the information is gathered, after all," Fukayna noticed that he had effectively left out the part where he had addressed the attacker by name. The two had known each other. She did not have a wish to bring it up, however. Isaehn was keeping tight lips about her usage of magic and in exchange, it would be safe to assume she was to do the same with his interactions. So she simply did as she had done in the dungeon--gently adjusting Armen so that his head rested in her lap and hoped that perhaps there would be someone that would be able to help him. He was in no condition to get back to Skyfall, that much was certain.

As if in response, the deep voice of Khrae spoke up, sounding concerned but firm. "If you'd like, I may be of use. To offer my assistance is only necessary." Instantly she straightened, though warily as she eyed the boy named Dante approaching Armen. He seemed a bit scatter-brained, from what she could gather, and she protectively tightened her hold on the elf. Still, she looked up at Khrae hopefully, looking back at Isaehn. Though the mage could not see her eyes, he seemed to understand her motions and shook his head.

"If you think he can truly help, I will not stop him," The gentleness in his voice was uncanny, certainly, replaced in moments by his usual coolness. "It would be best if you stepped away from the elf, boy. Your thoughts of help will only due to sully the situation more." Isaehn said with a roll of his eyes. Perhaps a bit harsher than she would've put it but privately, she couldn't help but agree. Dante did seem like a bit of a spaz. Good natured, but not really all that mature. It was at times like this she was grateful for Isaehn's nature. He really did know how to be direct when it was needed.

Stephano knew he was making very little sense at this current moment. He knew he probably shouldn't launch himself at Sebastian too but that didn't stop him. Besides, Sebastian, despite being able to appear anywhere Astrid was causing trouble at any time had been exceptionally difficult to find. The world seemed to hate the little dragon right now so it was rather fitting that his journey would have taken forever. He had run from room to room, his quick yellow eyes taking in the surroundings. He was still panicking, his thoughts jumping around. He knew that none of it made too much sense but he couldn't bring himself to care.

She wasn't there.

Stephano had been separated from his companion many a time and he had been fine. Sure, a little uncomfortable but not like he was now. Because he couldn't hear Astrid. When they were separated or unconscious or sleeping, the dragon and assassin were still linked, bonded. There was an essence of one in the other. But this was...She wasn't there. Stephano didn't think he could feel so empty inside. The dragon whimpered and tried to lead Sebastian towards Astrid but he couldn't find her anywhere. She just wasn't there. The browny yellow dragon let out a whine and ran in a circle, trying to make the anxious scary energy go away.

"Bricks. I remember bricks. And stairs. And cold. And mages but she's not there!" Stephano wailed, turning on the spot desperately, voice breaking a little. "She's not there, Sebastian! I can't hear her at all!" The dragon looked back at his senior assassin with large pleading eyes. He had to fix this. He had to. Or...or...There wouldn't be an or. He just had to. The older man knelt down and tried to reassure Stephano as he had seen Astrid do many times before, scratching behind his ear. The dragon's muscles seemed to uncord a little but he leapt forward a little, surprising Sebastian.

"What is it?"

"No windows. There was no windows. We just got to find a tower with no windows!" The small dragon lit up and took off running, using his wings to propel him faster. He ignored the pain as the air sliced though the wound on his wing and carried on his search for him companion. The dragon eventually found his tower, not through the lack of windows but through the smell. After Stephano had gone outside, a heavy scent hit him. He could smell that mage and her magic coming from a northern tower. The dragon growled and took Sebastian over to the place where his Astrid was. He hoped. He couldn't sense her position anymore, not with the block. The yellowy brown being moved quickly, efficiently, uncaring of anything except finding his assassin. He slinked in the door and found the stone room they were in before, where they got separated. Stephano could see the blood splatter and snarled lowly. Sebastian looked down at the creature, unused to seeing such a show of anger. And for good reason. Astrid was the fiery one. Stephano was the counter balance of calm. But hurt his Astrid and apparently, all bets were off. The dragon hissed below his breath.

"She's probably in the room we were before. It's upstairs. Come on!" With that the dragon leapt up into the air, flying straight up into the rafters before the other could blink. The only evidence Stephano was up in the tower at all were his lamp like yellow eyes shining within the darkness. The dragon sat watching the door. Two mages stood as guards in front of the recently repaired door. That wouldn't do. He would have to torch it all over again. The dragon inhaled deeply and blew a scorching fireball at the landing. He hoped Sebastian hadn't been that quick in climbing the stairs and was relatively out of the way. The two mages turned to ash.

Stephano couldn't really bring it upon himself to feel sorry for them. The dragon glided to the ledge and waited for Sebastian.

"Are you mad?!" The dragon raised an eyebrow ridge.

"Me? No, no. My companion, however, is completely barking." The dragon responded, sounding much more like himself. The eyes however told a different story. They were wild, searching and frantic. Everything Astrid was and everything Stephano wasn't. The dragon gestured towards the door and the other assassin gently pushed the singed door, dragon peering around his legs to see.

"Astrid!" The dragon exclaimed, shoving past the assassin at the door who grumbled in response. The dragon wasn't listening. His companion lay on the ground, her red hair splayed across the floor and eyes closed. Her breathing was hitched and wheezy and Stephano cursed her fondly. Damn woman wouldn't except when she was sick. He curled his tail around Astrid's body, nose poking at her face gently.

"Come on, dear. You must get up. It is time to leave this wretched place. I do believe the others are starting to understand your aversion to mages." The dragon tried weakly, eyes searching her face. The young woman stirred at this and weakly shied away from the offending voice. Stephano chuckled.

"Not that easy, darling. Wake up now. Come along. We have trouble to cause, idiots to throttle and places to get the hell out of." The dragon tried again, voice both gentle and firm. He got the slight crack of an eyelid in response and a bleary red orb looking back at him.

"Hello there, dear."

"S'phano?"

"The only one I know." And magic be damned, Stephano felt that block shatter as Astrid gave him a tired smile. Emotions and concerns were passed within seconds and reassurances made. The empty space in Stephano was filled and he felt whole again.

"I 'iss'd you."

"I missed you too, love. Now we have got to get out of here. Before that dreadful mage comes back."

"Se's a b'tch" Astrid responded tiredly, head dropping forward. Stephano frowned and tentatively asked if she was alright. Astrid, too tired for a verbal reply, mentally sent her response. Stephano resigned himself to be her mouthpiece for a while. He didn't mind. They just had to get those gashes seen to and that illness treated sooner rather than later.

"They did something to you. Cursed you. Now you're always tired?" Stephano asked, aware that Sebastian had come forward to inspect the damage himself. The younger assassin nodded heavily, her eyes drooping. Stephano made a noise of dislike and prodded his companion hard.

"No sleeping. We have to get you checked out. Now come on." The dragon tried to get Astrid on his back but with her almost bonelessness and his injured wing, it was an exercise in futility. Sebastian stopped the duo from their doomed attempts of escape and just lifted Astrid up in his arms. He felt the dragon's gaze burning into him.

"Do you have a better idea?" The dragon offered no response and merely stuck by his companion as close as possible. Until Astrid sighed heavily.

"S'phano, s'op it. Play n'ce." She mumbled, head resting against Sebastian's shoulder. The dragon made a face and carried up a head a little. The small group carried on down the stairs but were stopped as the door down below slammed open, hitting off the hinges. Sebastian and Stephano shared a look before the dragon took off downstairs.

”That better be the helping party or someone is going to end up as shredded paper very soon...”

Capella's rage slowly subsided as the situation swiftly changed. One of the members of their original welcoming party, specifically one she'd recognized as being a dragon somehow altered into Human form, albeit in a much different manner than her own... unique nature. In any case, as she was now being faced with yet another dragon, one doubtless even more aware of what exactly she was than the last one she'd encountered, there were more important things to worry about than simply incinerating the guards that the new arrival had already incapacitated. She took a slightly different approach, this time, however. Unlike the last pathetic excuse for a dragon she'd found, this creature was clearly a much older, powerful serpent, likely even moreso than herself. Getting into a struggle for dominance at this point would only further jeopardize her secret. As much as she hated to admit it, in this situation, perhaps the best solution would be to humble herself and simply rely on this creature's discretion to protect the humiliating truth behind her nature. And so, she sheathed her claws, and said nothing, which, in and of itself, said all that needed to be. By not threatening or trying to bargain with the other dragon, Capella showed that she knew full well how ineffective this would likely be, thus showing that she had no pretensions to being in any sort of position of power. It showed that she was simply hoping that the dragon would choose to honor her pride and remain silent, but knew that she could do nothing to influence this fact.

Fortunately, it seemed that the other dragon understood her meaning - or, at least, he didn't call her out on her nature directly, which must have counted for something. Leaving the building along with this enigmatic guide almost as swiftly as she had arrived within the tower, she soon found herself, along with her Human and his mentor, back in the library, only to be met with the sight of two of their party who had evidently been attacked. The white-haired one looked like she was in shock, while the elf seemed more like he'd just been beaten within an inch of his life. Although there was a rather annoyingly loud argument about healing the fallen elf, the arrival of a very panicked Stephano - Capella couldn't help but laugh mirthlessly, seeing him rushing around like a dog barking that his master had fallen down a well, when he should have, at the very least, been able to protect that girl himself - quickly broke up the conversation as the assassin, Sebastian, left along with the sycophantic dragon, delivering a final call for the mage, Isaehn, to heal the elf. The mage, however, swiftly explained that he wasn't able to heal the elf at this time. Capella sighed. Well, she supposed, that only left one thing. Why was it always the dragon who had to be competent in these sorts of situations? Seriously. You'd think that, given how squishy Humans and Elves were, there'd be a lot more people who actually bothered to learn healing magic!

"Move." Capella's voice rang out suddenly in the silence as she calmly strode up to the fallen elf. "You're in luck, boy. These flames of mine can do far more than just destroy. Besides, I suppose it's in my contract to save one such as you." Sighing, she reluctantly knelt by the boy's side. His wounds are serious. I suppose this means I'll have to banish some of my scales for now. Well, either that, or breathe my Life directly into his body, Capella thought, analyzing the situation. She gave a quiet chuckle despite herself. It was rather ironic that, no matter what method she chose to heal the boy, it would violate at least one law of common decency. Well, while this would usually provide her with no end of amusement at seeing their reactions if she either stripped down completely or, in the eyes of those watching, kissed the boy to heal him, they would probably just jump to annoying conclusions, not to mention causing her no end of trouble. So, she supposed, she'd just have to do a combination of both, simply bending the rules that most civilized people followed, while not outright breaking them.

Capella slowly raised her arms and spread her wings. In the next instant, a sudden wave of blue light crept down all four of these appendages, soon followed by her tail and legs. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, this light withdrew from her body, slowly flowing out into her hands as she slowly cupped and lowered them. She grimaced, feeling an overwhelming wave of wrongness spread across the affected areas as her existence in those regions was strained, converted directly into the essence of life itself. Fatigue began to appear across the edges of her perception as, with her arms and legs now reverted entirely to a human-like form and her tail and wings completely banished, her control over her own body momentarily slipped, causing her to feel a sudden chill rushing across her largely exposed form. Her grimace of psuedo-pain turned to one of distaste. She'd almost forgotten why Humans wore such a silly thing as clothing. As it was, although her front was covered by what was essentially a backless, incredibly short halter top, and her lower regions were kept beneath a scaly coating somewhat resembling a loincloth - as she said, pushing the limits of Human decency without actually breaking them - she was still starting to feel rather cold. Taking a moment to regain her control over her own existence - she didn't want to waste unnesecary amounts of her own Life healing this elf, after all, and she rather disliked being cold, in any case - slowly, she breathed in, then exhaled, regaining her concentration as best she could. As she did this, the Life in her cupped hands slowly began to spiral upward, condensing down to a single point at the tip of her finger. Poking it downward, she swiftly used her now freed hand to open the elf's lips. Then, she slowly slipped her finger down into the wounded boy's mouth.

"I swear, if you bite me, I will turn this thing back into a claw inside your throat," Capella muttered, waiting for the elf's ragged breath to slowly take in the Life essence she was giving to him.

The small form of Stephano sat beside his companion as she was placed down onto the ground. He hoped that nobody around him would be as stupid as to approach. He didn't really want to explain to any orders why people were now mashed up pieces of meat. He knew that his dragon "friend" wouldn't approach him from the vibes he was sending off. Not even a mischievous, boundary pushing dragon like her would approach an angry, stressed out and very tired dragon.

Even if he was little.

But the others? They hadn't known him long and he had most definitely not known them long enough to let him near a helpless Astrid. Her bright red hair was almost glowing against the dark. Stephano almost grinned. She had always hated the brightness of her hair. She said it made her look like a night light and "what use is a assassin who glows in the dark?!" Stephano had merely answered that he would have no trouble finding her in a crowd. Not that he would have much trouble finding her if she had brown or black hair. Astrid, no matter what, always caused trouble and was always in the middle of some new catastrophe. The sandy brown dragon looked down at his assassin. She wasn't up for much trouble making right now. From what he could tell, Astrid was cursed with a sort of lock-in syndrome. She was perfectly conscious and understood everything around her (and she had no problem talking to Stephano mentally about the opinions she couldn't voice) but she could not move anything but her eyes. Not another muscle. She could roll her eyes, take in the sights and blink but everything else was wishful thinking.

Stephano watched as a red eye looked up at him and then at the ground. The dragon didn't need to be mentally bonded to get that message.

The fuck am I doing on the floor?!

"Well, dear, Sebastian heard something and went to go...take care of it." The dragon offered softly, voice deep and calm. His heart was pounding as he looked at his lively assassin, his Astrid lying almost lifeless on the ground. She should be leaping to her feet, running into the darkness with a bow notched and a remark on her tongue. She should be Astrid, not some ragdoll.

Oh. I could help! Stephano snorted at his companion's inability to sit still. Even when cursed into doing so. The dragon felt her mind jumping around, trying to escape the hold upon her body.

"You can't even stand up, Astrid. How do you expect to help Sebastian and Fukayna?" The dragon asked, tail curling around the redhead's prone body.

Fukayna's there?! Oh, come on! She's just a recruit! I'm a professional!

"You are also cursed and ill. Stay still, your thoughts are making my brain hurt." Stephano rolled his eyes, fully aware of his one sided conversation. He was also very aware that it wasn't too hard to follow said one sided conversation. Astrid's thought process was never too complex. Fight, health of others, disregard one health, followed by the ever popular bullying of her dragon. Stephano rolled his eyes as he felt Astrid mentally grin.

You know, from this angle, you like kinda like a little scaly bag of flour. Cute but chubby.

"Really, another fat joke? My, my, aren't we getting rather stale on the insult front?"

Don't worry, I've probably got another one in here somewhere.

"I don't doubt that you do, my dear. Stephano yawned and spread his large wings, forgetting about the gash that ran across the left. He hissed through his teeth as the movement jerked the wound. Astrid's eyes were trained to the noise in seconds.

What. Is. That.

"It's only a little cut, Astrid, calm down." The dragon soothed, feeling the red tendrils of anger poking within the assassin's mind. However, the ire did not subside so quickly.

That bitch got you, didn't she. It was a statement, a flat out remark that left Stephano with a shuddering spine. He was reminded how easily Astrid would kill someone as her thoughts turned to Ariatyla. The mage would not stand a change next time. No way in hell if his Astrid got her way.

And really, who could say no to that face?

The dragon moved closer to his companion, wings still unfurled, in a protective stance. These people may be allies but only Sebastian was allowed to some close to the redhead. Or they would be feeling firsthand the damage he could do with a sweep of his majestic wings.

"I will be fine, it is you I am worried about." Stephano spoke softly, tail flicking round to circle her body. The dragon was being truthful. He was worried about her. Not only the curse but the illness, the infection. The stint within the cell and the subsequent ill treatment (which was going to be avenged by a certain fire breathing sandy brown being, to hell with protocol) had not done the redhead any favours. The young woman's chest was congested, her breathing wheezy. You didn’t need to be a doctor to know that she was unwell. Not that the assassin was admitting to the infection.

I'm fine, you overbearing bastard.

"You sound like a old hag who smoked her lungs out three years ago. Shut up and stop denying it." The dragon grumbled good naturedly. Suddenly, there was a tiny noise on the edge of Stephano's hearing. It could have been a mouse. But the little being was taking no chances. He leapt to his feet and snarled protectively.

Friend or foe, the little dragon was on guard and despite his size, he could had no qualms over tearing someone into shreds.

To hell with doing the right thing, no one got to hurt his Astrid without a suitable punishment.

Unfortunately, Stephano didn’t have any chainsaws on him so being torched would just have to do. The sound came closer and Stephano snarled louder, his teeth bared, wings splayed and his companion protected.

No matter what came out of the darkness, they would not be getting Astrid.

In the darkness at the edge of the group, soft pale lips slowly parted, revealing a fanged grimace as a pair of amber eyes flashed open, slits appearing in their pupils as the Dragoness turned to gaze upon this new group of arrivals. During the three mages' appearance, she hadn't really bothered herself. She'd had more than enough of Human mages to satisfy any curiosity she might have had in a thousand lifetimes, and had fought more than her fair share of such insignificant know-it-alls. The indignities these "mages" attempted to inflict upon their betters were the stuff of legends, and Capella's experience was no exception. That was the reason why, even moreso than normal Humans... she absolutely loathed mages.

Even still, she'd been willing to be lenient, to practice the restraint that was so foreign to her. Under her current agreement, she couldn't do anything that would jeopardize the success of the diplomatic mission that Khrae, and, more importantly to her, Dante, were currently embarked upon. Attacking mages in their own city was just one such thing that could potentially be problematic. But the Dragonness had NOT been having a good day. Or week, for that matter. Although she'd briefly had a stroke of tremendous good fortune in meeting such an interesting Human as the boy, and in becoming involved in a situation where she stood to gain an incredible level of power, power she could use to escape the limitations imposed upon her by Humans forever... things had swiftly taken a turn for the worse after that. First, she'd had the displeasure of encountering the brash redheaded assassin who was currently lying paralyzed a short distance off, and, more importantly, her annoying excuse for a dragon, who had discovered something Capella would much rather leave unknown. But no, that hadn't been enough. Then that lousy assassin had decided to order her around, and THEN that maniacal Naville had showed up, tried to lay claim to her hoard, and insulted her pride in ways she hadn't even thought possible. And now that she'd finally made it to Ro'ell, she'd found herself encountering yet another dragon. At this point, she had to wonder exactly how much those pathetic, submissive lizards had let their masters know, and how much of her secret was now common knowledge. The mere thought of it infuriated her.

But, even despite all that, she was tired. Having used so much of her own life to restore the elf's wounded body, she really didn't want to exert herself further when doing so would mean sacrificing even more of her dragon self for the time being. And so, she was perfectly willing to just stay calm, and let the more charismatic and less monstrous members of the group talk things over. Even when the first mage attacked, she was content to just let the elf she'd just regenerated swiftly beat the man down.

But then, one of the worthless cronies just had to start preparing an indiscriminately destructive spell when her hoard was in the area. Capella had been lenient, patient even. She'd been calm and merciful. But these ignorant Humans had just crossed the line. As things were, Dante was now in the crosshairs, and his master wasn't even there to deal with the issue so Capella could rest. And this, above all else... was absolutely unforgivable.

Capella stepped calmly forward as the first mage fell to the ground, and as the elf realized the second enemy's intent. Checking her reserve of power, she grimaced slightly in distaste. As it was, it seemed she only had enough of her dragon form available for use to manifest about two limbs worth of material without stripping down the pseudo clothes she wore completely. Even as it was, she'd probably have to salvage most of the scales covering all but the most sensitive parts of her upper half. While this wasn't problematic for her in the least usually, she was already beginning to feel the cold of the night air. If she stripped down further and expended more energy, as she'd have to, then she'd probably reach the point where she was just as exposed to the nighttime chill as a Human would be. How disgusting.

But, she mused, allowing all but a narrow band of scales around the front and middle of her chest to fade from her body - this even splitting at the center, just to give her that much more material to work with - this would just have to be done. This mage had just tried to damage her hoard, which meant he had to be taught an extensive lesson in respect, and, more importantly, in pain. Idly, she noticed that the man chanting the spell seemed to have stopped suddenly, a faint trickle of blood from his nose made quite evident, even beneath the darkness of his hood. If only that, and the chill she was feeling, could be attributed to the side-effects of a genuine cold, rather than to her own largely bared form.

How unsightly. What a worthless body this is, that my prey would gawk so shamelessly upon me even as I crush him. And to think that this troublesome flesh is even now trying to shiver, as though this night could ever be called cold. Hah! Capella thought angrily, slowly forming her very Human hands into a claw-like shape, as though she would simply make do gouging her opponent with her fingernails when her draconic talons could not be employed. This is all the fault of those Humans, those ignorant mages. To think they'd even now be so brazen as to force my hand, to raise their spells against my possession... I've had enough of this insolence. I'll end their unsightly actions permanently, just as I put an end to the arrogance of the last of their kind who came after me!

"KNEEL." This word, spoken in hateful, booming tones, and a sudden flash of dark grey light around the Dragoness' bare legs, were the only warnings that the mage got before his enemy made her move. The man began to react with surprise, opening his mouth to say something as he began to comprehend the meaning of her angry command, something which occupied the dunce far longer that it had any right to, probably because he was too busy staring blankly at the one he should have been cowering before.

A blur of motion streaked past the elf in an instant, almost too fast to even be seen as the Dragoness exercised her true draconic speed for a split second, closing the distance between herself and the mage in the blink of an eye. The man didn't even have time to fully adjust his gaze to observe the dark scales coating her legs before, with a resounding crack, he was struck simultaneously by two antler-like horns as Capella collided with her target, dealing a vicious headbutt that literally picked the man up off his feet, sending him flying backward as a tremendous burst of air from the shock of her passage expanded outward in all directions, carrying with it a spurt of blood from the sides of the man's head as his ears were precisely gouged and ripped apart by Capella's horns.

"'Magic is forbidden.' Hah! Like I'd need something as worthless as magic to crush the likes of you!" Capella roared, her voice only becoming audible after she had vanished into a dark gray blur amidst the blackness of night, seeming to just flash instantaneously into existence in a completely different location, leaving only her words behind as she appeared behind the mage before he could even land after the initial impact, already preparing to attack again as his scream of pain finally emerged, his mind only then realizing that he'd just been struck. The scales encasing one of Capella's legs, meanwhile, vanished, instantly coating her arm instead. Although she didn't have her claws at the moment, having expended them to heal the elf... well, there were other uses for one's hands at a time like this, wasn't there? The man's agonized yell was instantly silenced by a loud crack, and Capella smirked cruelly as her offhanded slap connected with the side of the man's head with enough force to rip the tattered remains of the mage's ear completely from his head just from the impact. It was also enough to suddenly change the direction of the man's flight, sending him abruptly hurtling sideways into the wall of a small, nearby shed. He collided with this with a loud bang, sending up a cloud of dust and debris into the air as the flimsy wooden edifice gave way, then collapsed on top of the man as he crashed through it. The Dragoness gave a raucous, mocking laugh, and sneered at the debris, as though daring the mage she'd just dropped into the midst of that wreckage to get back up and try to actually counterattack.

...Which he promptly did, giving a wild, agonized and enraged scream of wordless fury, releasing a surge of flames and arcane power that sent a large portion of the rubble flying straight towards Capella. But she merely stood, her grin not faltering for an instant, and raised her scale-coated hand before herself. In a flurry of movement, she precisely swept out her arm again and again, striking each impromptu projectile that came close to her and scattering them all in a shower of burning splinters and sawdust. As the mage rose from amidst the burning wreckage only to see that his attack had failed, she didn't give him a chance to try a second time. In a single leap of her scale-coated leg, she had once more crossed the distance between them. The man screamed in irrepressible fright, desperately attempting to gather the flames burning around him. But he was...

"Too slow!" Capella laughed mockingly, lunging upward with her draconic arm which surged momentarily with the might of her seething blood. Another impact rang out through the night as her fist connected in a truly staggering uppercut, snapping back the mage's head as he was once more lifted from his feet by the overwhelming force of the Dragoness' fist. As his body flew upward from amidst the flames, the blaze burning amidst the wreckage was instantly extinguished by a sudden surge of air that once again picked up the largely destroyed debris, scattering it in a sudden wave of flying rubble. In the same instant, the dark blur of the Dragoness, two wings taking shape just long enough to give a single, sweeping beat, shot upward, catching her prey by the throat in the same instant as her wings faded, replaced this time by scales encasing the arm now carrying her helpless victim, and by a dark-colored tail that suddenly swept upward towards her target. Holding him aloft and away from herself, she merely sneered as he began to flail about, clutching the arm that was choking him and trying in vain to free himself through flames, of all things. Hah! Arrogance! To think that any such pitiful excuse for fire could be hot enough to burn through her mighty scales! One resounding slap rang out after another as her tail darted back and forth, smashing into the man's face again and again.

"DID-"

SMACK

"-I-"

SMACK

"-SAY-"

SMACK

Capella drew the man back a final time, then hurled him upward into the air, just as gravity began to take her at last, causing her to begin falling backward.

"-THAT YOU COULD LAY YOUR FILTHY HANDS ON ME, YOU WORTHLESS-"

Turning her momentum into a backflip, Capella's tail spiraled upward just as the man began to plunge downward like a ragdoll, the two on a course sure to result in only one thing.

Collision.

"-HUMAN...?!" The Dragoness snarled the hated word, punctuating it with resounding impact as she smashed the man's face in with her formidable tail, using the force of the stroke to wrap the flexible appendage around the man's head, then using the momentum of her own flipping to cast the man over her, hurling him downward with overwhelming force. He wailed with agony and terror, his voice audible for only a moment before it was stifled as his face met violently with the cobblestones below. But his cries were swiftly taken up anew, a pathetic sobbing that came equal parts from the wounds dealt his body, and the injuries to his undeserved pride.

The Dragoness, meanwhile, landed on her feet approximately a meter away, already dismissing her tail and dragon-arm and summoning her scaled legs once again just in time to absorb the impact and disperse it harmlessly. Silhouetted against the light of the full moon, she gazed downward upon her broken adversary with the air of a predator pondering how it should devour its prey. And, with the glinting of her bared fangs and the amber light gleaming from her vertically-slit, reptilian eyes, it really did look like she was thinking about eating the man. But, after a moment, she sighed, and took a step back. The sobbing man slowly raised his terrified face, bloodied by her scaled tail and by the impact with the street, only to lower it and begin to cower a moment later when he saw the hateful fury in her gaze.

"Well, it seems that even a disobedient dog like you can follow orders, with proper persuasion. Kneeling before your superior... That's a good boy." She laughed cruelly. "What do you know? I guess even mages can be housebroken!" Kneeling over the fallen man, she grinned as he stifled his pitiful crying, his breath catching in his throat as his enemy drew close and spoke into what remained of one of his ears. "You're fortunate, mage. If you hadn't cowered as you ought to, I'd have had to kill you. Consider yourself lucky that I can't afford to do that at the moment." With this final taunt, she rose, turned, and glared murderously at the last remaining enemy, who unconsciously took a step back out of fright. Satisfied with this response, she didn't give him time to realize that he probably should have been trying to stop her, and instead simply walked past him. Yes, she'd made her point quite clearly. The man she'd broken today might not had been overly hurt - fortunately for him, she'd been holding most of her strength back, and on top of this had been too tired to really bother with mortal wounds - but his pride had been dealt a blow from which it would never recover. Idly, she mused that she must have been getting soft. To think that she'd let a Human who'd attacked her hoard live to tell about it... That would have been unimaginable to her old self. But, perhaps it was because of that very precious treasure that she had restrained herself? She'd made a contract with the boy, after all. To break that contract would mean disowning him from her possession, abandoning all chances of ever claiming him as her own. He'd never follow a monster, and she didn't mean to convince him of the opinion widely held by most Humans she met. And so, she had become the unthinkable... a merciful dragon.

Slowly, she strode up to Dante, and stopped before him, giving him an unreadable look that was somewhere between distaste and, of all things, an almost childish pout. Crossing her arms over her now largely bare chest, she stared intently at Dante, before finally speaking in a manner that clashed completely with her previous demeanor. In an instant, her eyes returned to their usual appearance, their reptilian slits disappearing as the scales left on her limbs faded as well, their owner too tired to continue manifesting them.

"Boy," She said, before abruptly beginning to, of all the disgraceful things, shiver. She blushed with humiliation - an expression which only further accentuated the suddenly very girlish appearance she held - at doing such a Human thing before her hoard, but it couldn't be helped. Pouting angrily, she continued to stare pointedly at Dante. "I'm c-cold." She said this as though it explained itself, but her words clearly held some sort of deeper implication that her somewhat dull target might not immediately grasp. On the other hand, the way she was eying his coat - like a dragon preparing to seize a precious treasure - made it very obvious what her real meaning was, even if her words did not. This break from her usual attitude have have seemed almost funny to the boy, but this very likely would not last, as he'd likely soon be feeling a more pressing emotion. The Dragoness, angered by the split second of waiting as Dante's mind doubtless processed her sudden actions, decided that patience wasn't a virtue she needed at the moment. Laying hands on his coat forcefully, she swiftly parted it from one of his shoulders, sweeping it out and, in the same instant, stepping in beneath it, staring up and giving the same irritable yet ashamed expression to her hoard as she pressed herself up against him, trying in vain to slip fully beneath his raiment. To her, this action made perfect sense. When her own coat of scales wasn't enough to keep her warm, the obvious, animal instinct for a cold-blooded creature like a dragon was to curl up beneath a source of warmth to compensate. To Dante, on the other hand, it probably seemed like she was suddenly coming onto him. Had she not been currently coming down from an indignant rage, and were she not currently concentrating very intently on trying to warm herself up again, Capella probably would have found his reaction rather amusing. But, as it was, she was very busy pondering a brief hibernation until it was warmer, far too busy to concern herself with something like the boy's opinions. Yes... that was exactly what she needed... A nice, long nap in a warm place... Her amber eyes shut and she slowly flopped against her companion, who seemed soft enough to serve as a pillow, and useful enough to hold her up as she suddenly went, for the most part, limp, leaning upon him entirely for support while at the same time trying to nestle in further beneath his warm coat.

"Tired. Sleepin' now..." Capella mumbled by way of explanation. This statement was followed in the next instant by an almost painfully loud snore.

Her work here... was done.

Valentino

Valentino looked down to the young, bursting treasure he'd stumbled upon as she gave her explanation to exactly how she'd found herself in his midst. A member of the Nine? That perked the man's curiosity just slightly, the fact that the Nine was involved was something to think on, but of course not for any extended period of time. Rather, a more pressing matter was how exactly he could reign in this lovely delicacy. As it were, he'd been interrupted during the ceremony he no longer had any intentions of finishing. Of course because of that he didn't have the power necessary to produce an adequate amount of his usual potent doses, and while he could leak in small amounts at a time, he could neither sustain even that for how long it would take. Of course there was just one more options... Considering the circumstances of the situation, as well as short and long-term effects...

Looking down to the young Navile, Valentino gave her a reassuring smile.

"Of course my dear," he said calmly, "of course... But, if I may.. The spells of the Nine shouldn't be taken lightly. Magic like that, if left to simply eat away at the body can cause some nasty side effects... While it would fade of course in time or if you simply rested, one can never be... too sure."

Smiling again the man held up a hand gently to her chin, taking a moment to admire her. Of course he knew of the little harm done in transportation spells unless by a young, learning, novice mage, but that was hardly important. He need only an excuse to power himself, and this buffet of compressed energy which was currently emanating enough to put the girl into a daze was perfect.

"Allow me to rid you of this lingering magic..." the man's words were quiet, soothing and yet almost irresistible. He could use just a little bit of what he had remaining for this process, especially when in doing so he would gain nearly triple what he was giving away. Looking into her eyes, he continued. "Relax... Close your eyes, breathe. Lest your body cling inadvertently to the tiniest amount of what it needs to expel. Allow me to take it from you..."

As the man spoke he slowly drew his hand away, closing his own eyes calmly while beginning to channel all the energy around the girl through his fingertips and into himself. The surge of power was exhilarating, an ecstasy greater than any amount of magic he'd felt before, including some of the most powerful and naive mages. Within moments he felt himself completely rejuvenated, alert and as if he could empower the minds of ten men. Yes, the natural potency and purity of this magic which was so feared was delicious. He felt it coursing through his entire being and was running out of room to put the power, and so he simply allowed it to do as it always did, the alluring mist forming at his feet and slowly expanding outwards, sparkling, and seeming to glow. It was even so much as to cause the candles around the room to flicker, the shadows being cast by them to dance in overlapping black silhouettes on the wall. Valentino knew this action should seem to help her as well, himself siphoning the magic which clouded her mind. For now he would only leave a trace of his presence in her head, for he had plenty of energy to continue later, and it was always the tiniest things which seemed to manifest the most.

Valentino smiled as he opened his eyes, finally putting down his hand and coming to a rest, enjoying this new pleasure which came with the acquisition of a new, more powerful source of magic. Adjusting himself calmly, he gave a sigh and smiled again, showing off brilliantly white, perfectly aligned teeth, each with an almost unnatural shine. With a wave of his hand towards the door, he then held out his other hand to her.

"Now then, may I escort you back to your friends?"


Khrae

Khrae's hand touched instinctively to the hilt of his sword as Sebastian impacted a figure in the dark. With his mind working a thousand times a second to process and comprehend the entirety of the situation, the man wouldn't draw unless absolutely necessary, and even then he'd have evaluated several scenarios, weighed outcomes, hindrances, accounted for x-factors and then chosen the best option. It was this cunning and calculation which came from his clear mind, something which showed easily in his eyes, if only the current adversary could see the steely gold beneath the shroud of night.

A moment later however, and with their prey set on the defensive, a wall of earth was suddenly erected. Khrae remained in a calm, ready stance in the rear as he listened with his usual apathetic expression to the man who attempted to give himself purpose. Negotiations weren't his designated task on this particular mission, nor was granting pardon to others, so Khrae simply adjusted his gaze towards the older assassin who seemed less than thrilled over the whole exchange as he gave his rebuttal.

Seeing as how Sebastian was ready to offer refuge to the boy escaping the law however, Khrae straightened to a resting stance. Exactly why the man thought it necessary to do what he did, Khrae couldn't place at the moment, but he wouldn't dispute it. Looking towards the other man who stood opposite them, the swordsman waited, though remained ready to strike or defend. Then he felt the sudden explosion of power.

"Sebastian!" Even as he spoke the man's eyes were darting back to where they had left the others. Through the darkness Khrae could swear he had just witnessed a blur of something chasing what appeared to be a human projectile made up of a mage. Mentally he cursed, turning again to the assassin, waiting for the word.


Dante

Confusion was what Dante was experiencing. One minute he'd just witnessed maybe the most impressive and easily painful maiming of a supposedly powerful figure, a mage, and then the next he was approached by Capella who had gone from a merciless Dragoness to looking like a defenseless, innocent girl. Her words were even more perplexing, as were her actions which had caught the boy entirely off guard. At first he wasn't seeing why it was necessary to tell him she was cold, perhaps a side-effect from hanging around with Khrae too long, but then understanding swept over him. Unfortunately his moment of hesitation seemed to be insufficient, as suddenly she'd stolen one side of his jacket, snuggling into the soft fabric and at the same time against him.

"A-er.." he began, leaning off to one side as Capella forced herself into the warmth of his proximity. "Ahh.. Oh.. Kay" Dante wasn't sure how to react, especially considering what he'd seen and now that she was lacking even more so in her coverings. Standing lopsided for a moment as the Dragoness positioned herself within his jacket, the boy looked curiously to her, not entirely sure that his clothing could support two people. He knew at least it wouldn't burn considering his clan dealt with fire and so had to accommodate it in their clothing, but they hadn't counted on forcing two beings into one size. It had taken a moment but finally it seemed she had gotten herself comfortable, nearly toppling and dragging Dante down with her as she simply drifted off to sleep.

"Wha-ah, he--" The boy had only managed to get one arm around her front to support her while having to push his other around her back and side beneath the jacket. "Uh.. Ca-Capella? ... H." Dante looked up towards the others for some sort of help or advice, unsure of the entire situation while at the same time slightly embarrassed.. "Err.. Help?" he said sheepishly, looking back towards the girl in his possession. Perhaps under different circumstances she'd of looked rather cute cuddled into his jacket, though when he had to support her and when he was trying to share the garment too, it was slightly more than awkward. The fact that she snored too, loudly at that and so close to him made the boy almost want to pinch her nose to shut it up, though he supposed that probably wasn't good.

Looking back up he gave a helpless shrug as he simply surrendered to what had happened.

Stephano had watched as the others took out the mages, his stance protective over his prone companion. The dragon ignored Astrid's mental barrage as she implored him to help, to just leave her and help, for the love of Riena. Stephano had also felt her fighting against the spell that kept her captive in her own body and inwardly smiled as she regained control over her right hand. The dragon had to smile at that, no spell was going to keep Astrid T'vali down for too long. She was tired but burning through the binds that held her still. As she did so, she managed to shout at her dragon.

Amazing multi tasker, that one.

Seriously Stephano! Stop being such a prissy bitch and help them! I'll be fine!

"They are doing fine by themselves. And I am not being a bitch and you will not be fine." The dragon growled back, absently snapping at the heels of a mage that got to close to his assassin for his liking. The sandy brown being looked at the fight calmly, observing. Not acting. That was one of the main differences between himself and Astrid. Astrid acted. Stephano watched. It was all going well until the third mage threw Armen away. Astrid mentally stopped and went into assassin mode. Her thoughts became clear and focussed. Stephano picked up on this and tensed up into a tight ball of muscle.

You gotta help.

"I do not wish to leave you."

Oh, get over your freaking male pride and help the guy out! I'll be fine on the ground. Besides, Fukayna will be mad at you if you don't save her boyfriend.

"Boyfriend?"

You can't be that dense. Didn't you see the looks they were giving each other on the ride to Ro'ell? Or mage fucking central. Damn, I hate those guys... Astrid's thoughts wandered off a little but came back into focus has Armen started to get back onto his feet.

He is not going to stay down. And he needs help. Come on, doll. Do it for me? And that was it. Stephano was now putty in the redhead's hands. He couldn't deny her anything when she used that voice. So with a feral growl, the dragon took to the air with a large blast of his wings. The loud crack as his massive wingspan took up the sky got the mage's attention. He spotted the dragon and frowned. Stephano used this hesitation to sweep in front of him and scratch his chest. The mage howled as Stephano's razor sharp claws shot through his cloak and skin to tear through the flesh. The sandy beast felt a little better knowing that those were probably going to get infected, what with the dirt he had in his claws. Good.

Stephano circled back and landed on the mage's back and tore into his skin. His talons turned to hooks, fixing his position and making sure that nothing this guy could do was going to get him off. The dragon's pointy teeth shot into the mage's shoulder and he tore at the flesh. He shook his head back and forth, ripping at the man's skin. A quick blast of air forced the dragon backwards, taking a good chunk of bloody flesh with him. The dragon curled his lip at the mess and flicked the reminants of the man's back away. The dragon then raised his eyes in time to see and dodge a blast of energy. The dragon used his wings to allow him to run a little fast that usual. He darted around the blasts of magic and dodged. Then he got hit. The blast sent the little dragon flying into a nearby wall.

Stephano slumped to the floor for a few seconds before seeing the mage readying himself for another attack. The sandy drown being snarled and leapt up into the air. The air was his advandage anyway. The small dragon unfurled his wings fully and twirled neatly around the magic shots. He sent a quick little prod at Astrid who merely replied that he "better be careful or he'd have to face her wrath". Stephano took this as a sign that she was fine. This mage, however, was starting to get a little tiresome. The dragon looped up and took a large breath.

Then he let it all out again.

The flames were superb, a large fire ball coming down from the sky and barreling down into the mage. He quickly conjured a shield of sorts and the flames surrounded the area around him. Stephano chuckled darkly.

"Let's see how long that shield lasts you at point blank." The dragon hovered just in front of the mage and let out a large flaming exhale. He watched as the flimsy shield melted away under the harsh temperatures. Stephano stopped as the mage's terrified face stared at him.

"Leave. Now." The dragon snarled out at him, yellow eyes tight and blazing. The human did nothing, frozen in place. Stephano roared.

"Now! Before I decided to burn you to a crisp!" The dragon inhaled quickly and let out a small blast. The man's eyes widened and he turned before taking off into the night. The small dragon sighed heavily before making his way over to his prone companion.

Ya did good, doll. Stephano could feel the grin from that statement. He nuzzled her face gentle, aware of the cold night air. Not that she ever seemed to notice.

"Why thank you. I'm glad you approve." The dragon chuckled gently, his normal rich tones replacing the harsh voice he had used before. The companion's lamp-like eyes seeked out the fallen elf.

"Armen." The dragon spoke quietly, softly. He didn't like talking to others very much. He did not look up to see his the elf was listening.

"I hope you are alright. And for the record, I am not the one who helped you. I was...pushed." A gentle scaly smile took over the dragon's visage. Astrid mentally snorted.

Ya big wuss. You wanna go eat your feelings now? She teased, red eyes glinting in the moonlight. The dragon just smiled.

I'm glad you are feeling better, dear. A stronger voice replied from the frozen body.

Oh, Stephano. Was there ever any doubt?

Stephano flared his wings wide as he stalked through the night. Astrid sat snugly on his back as they, Armen, Dante and Capella fled from Ro'ell. The dragon growled loudly as he inwardly cursed the mages' city. The place had caused him and his assassin nothing but bother and pain. The young woman no his back tapped her fingers lightly against his scaly skin and the dragon grinned. She was trying to tell him to "stop being such a moany bitch". Again. It may have been an annoying insult but it was a common one and meant Astrid was feeling better, despite her current condition. The dragon lifted his wings to wrap them around her.

Cheers, love. But you know I don't feel the cold. Astrid answered mentally, her voice sounding tired. Stephano chuckled lightly to himself.

"But my dear, it makes me feel better to know you are warm. Now just close your eyes. We are all safe and sound and will be until you wake." The dragon spoke quietly and gently to his companion. He knew the others could hear him but ignored them. Astrid was more important than the opinions of a few other people. Stephano moved quickly and with a smooth sort of grace. The human on his back winced a little as the wings brushed her injuries.

"Shh, just go to sleep. In the morning, everything shall be alright." The dragon told his precious cargo.

Promise? The question was asked with such innocence, such a childish quality that Stephano could not refuse her. The sandy brown being smiled softly and laughed gently.

"Of course, why would I ever lie to you?" But Stephano never received an answer as his companion was lost to the land of dreams. The dragon sighed and hugged the young woman closer to his back. He couldn’t let her fall after all. He would never hear the end of it. The dragon grinned to himself as he thought of Skyfall. They could get back, have Astrid healed and then sort this mess out. Ariatyla would become history as the dragon found and ended her. And life could go back to normal and then they could stop having these injuries. A spluttering cough cut off Stephano's thoughts and the dragon winced in sympathy. She was always so miserable when ill. The dragon looked up at Armen, his lamp like eyes glimmering in the darkness. He didn't like asking for help but sometimes it was needed. This was one of those times.

"Armen, may you do me a great favour? I require some...assistance." The dragon asked, his rich voice shattering the relative silence. Stephano raised his head and looked at the ground hard. Shyness was an uncomfortable problem of his and one day, he vowed to overcome it. However, that day was not today and was unlikely to be in the near future. Thus, the dragon's voice dropped to very quiet and barely a whisper. The dragon coaxed himself to look at the elf in the eye. Stephano may have been a proverbial power house earlier but now it had all drained away. He was now as shy as before the incident. The dragon blinked heavily and hugged Astrid closer to his back. He scratched at the ground gently with a long claw and sighed.

“Could you...could you get the medicine out of Astrid’s left pocket, please? Her illness, I fear it is taking a turn for the wo-“ Suddenly a noise caught his attention. A small movement somewhere in the dark. The dragon growled heavily before giving the surrounding darkness a harsh look.

”That better not be any more damn mages.” Stephano growled, his body ached and claws retracted. The dragon hissed as he tried to present himself as a serious threat. But with his companion on his back, what could he do? He just hoped that it was a friendly for once. With all the injuries and fatigue in the group, an enemy would have the upper hand easily.

And that would dire for everyone involved.