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Devlin Íobairt

"If the gods really did exist, I'd love to meet one."

0 · 451 views · located in Ter'Ciel

a character in “Eulogy for the Immortal”, as played by ~Evil Cream Puff~

Description

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Name: Devlin Íobairt

Nickname: None

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Height: 5'6"

Weight: 120 lbs


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Appearance: Devlin is not one to command much attention in a room. He is quite small in stature at a measly 5'6" with a rather scrawny frame. With gray-blonde hair that falls over gray eyes, his appearance is not unlike a dreary, cloudy afternoon. He walks without purpose and tends to cross his arms across his body; a subconscious way of protecting himself from others. Curiously, he was born with a mark underneath his right eye; bluish lines set against his pale complexion. It is an odd birthmark that the young man has grown accustomed to.

Personality: There is but a handful of people on Ter'Ciel who can say they know Devlin Íobairt, and none of them would say that the boy has much of a personality at all. He is quiet and reserved, almost painfully so. From his soft spoken voice to his awkward stance, seemingly every aspect of the boy suggests a deep insecurity. Devlin would much rather apologize for anything than to become involved in any sort of conflict. Indeed, his shyness and uncertainty seem to weigh upon him at all times.

Despite his rather pitiable demeanor, one cannot deny the small flicker of light behind Devlin's gray eyes. It is almost as if he is simply waiting. Biding his time until he can grow into the decisive, confident person he longs to be.

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Likes
+ Mythology
+ Cooking

Dislikes
- Confrontation
- Lonliness

Fears
x Abandonment
x Personal Weakness
x Dogs

Talents
o Sewing
o Cleaning

Flaws
= Shy
= Insecure

Background: At the height of the bloodshed in the heavens above Ter'Ciel, the gods knew failure was imminent. Together, the remaining deities made the solemn decision to sacrifice their immortal lives in an effort to seal away the alien parasite that had gripped their once beautiful world. The seal was not intended to last indefinitely, however. There would eventually come a time when the spiritual bindings would be broken, and the parasite would finish what it had started. It would be then that the gods, having been reborn unto Ter'Ciel, would awaken. They would regain their lost powers and protect all that they held dear. But to do that, a catalyst was needed. A soul, specifically chosen with the destiny of reawakening the gods, returning to them their memories, powers, and immortality. Ancient prophecy passed down by the priests of yore states that the Awakener will serve as the cornerstone to the salvation of Ter'Ciel. But could such a heavy destiny be placed upon the shoulders of a mere human? Have the gods made one final mistake in protecting their world?

It is safe to assume that the young parents of Devlin Íobairt had no idea that they had given birth to the fabled Awakener of the gods. Nor would they ever learn why the bandits who broke into their home one fateful night, would slit both their throats and leave without taking a single gold coin. Orphaned and just having learned to walk, Devlin was taken in by the prestigious House Grayson. Serving on the High Council of Airyglyph for generations, the powerful and influential Graysons had dealings in the weapons industry. Their products were a household name. Devlin did not have the good fortune of being adopted into House Grayson, however. The head of the family, Lord Augustine Grayson, had taken pity on the poor, miserable child and agreed to take him in as a domestic servant. And so, the earliest memories of the child were soon taken over by that of his life of servitude.

From the very start, Devlin did not have an easy time in House Grayson. He was taught the basics on how to serve the family as a butler and errand boy and even found some enjoyment in domestic chores. But before long, too much responsibility was placed upon the shoulders of the young man. Whenever he fell short in his duties, the boy was severely punished. Whipped, beaten, or locked away in his meager chamber without food. The other servants whispered about how the poor boy had somehow found himself on the wrong side of Lord Augustine, as the Lord's demands often seemed designed to see Devlin fail. Before long, they distanced themselves from him, for fear that they themselves might incur the wrath of the head of House Grayson. And so, Devlin grew up alone in a mansion filled with people, surrounded by luxury he could never experience and power he could never have.

One day, near the time of the autumn solstice, Devlin received a request from Lord Augustine. Feeling his heart sink with dread at the impossible task to soon be set before him, the boy resigned himself to his fate. What was requested of him, however, had surprised nearly everyone of House Grayson, most of all Devlin himself. He was to accompany Lord Augustine on a trip to the town of Kirlsa. There was to be a meeting to discuss new weapon plans that was expected to take about a week. Devlin was responsible for personally serving Lord Augustine during the trip. While the other servants glowered enviously at such a fortuitous opportunity the young man was getting, Devlin himself felt anything but fortunate. Something was on the horizon. Something bad. And Devlin had a feeling that, whatever that "something" was, he was going to be at the center of it.
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So begins...

Devlin Íobairt's Story

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Dusk had settled across Kirlsa, staining the houses and fields with stripes of fiery orange light. Casting a glow about the motionless windmill that stood tall against the shanty backdrop, it created a sense of stillness. Of simplicity. And underneath these calm overtones, unease. To those perceptive enough, those particularly attuned with nature, the air above Kirlsa was electric. A gentle, western breeze picked up, catching the rusty blades of the old windmill. A shuddering creak broke the silence above the town as the blades turned lazily. And in some unreachable place beyond this mortal realm, the wheel of fate began to turn as well.

Devlin Íobairt


Tick...Tick...Tick...

The large clock in the corner ticked away the last fleeting moments of daylight. Standing tall in a case of solid mahogany wood, the front of the lavish contraption was open, revealing a shining array of metallic cogwheels. Gold, bronze, and copper pieces worked in perfect harmony all to keep track of time. To keep track of Devlin's increasing sense of dread. Staring into its blank, numbered face, the boy sighed.

After a moment, he resumed mending the worn fabric in his lap. His hands deftly worked the needle in and out of Lord Grayson's coat, the tear in the lining growing smaller with each stitch. This work should have made him happy. It wasn't particularly fulfilling, no. But he enjoyed sewing and mending things. Devlin had learned long ago to take his pleasures where he could find them, and domestic chores nearly topped the list. It was relaxing. Tonight, however, the boy couldn't seem to catch a break. No matter how he tried to busy himself, his mind wandered. Something was not right.

Standing up, he carefully laid the coat on the quilted bedspread. The room was small. Shabby furnishings were painted and decorated to give the illusion of finery. It was nothing compared to the luxury back at home in Airyglyph. Back in Lord Grayson's manor, even Devlin, a mere servant, enjoyed more comfort than anything Kirlsa could provide.

They had arrived in town two days prior. Lord Grayson, three of his personal bodyguards, and Devlin. He was called upon to act as the Lord's servant for the trip. It was a shocking announcement, especially for Devlin himself, as he had never been one of Lord Grayson's favorites. The other maids and housekeepers stared at him in disgust and whispered unheard (but undoubtedly unkind) words behind his back. The boy couldn't easily forget his years of tiptoeing around his master. Of the overwhelming responsibilities he placed upon his shoulders. Of the painful repercussions of his failures. So when he was permitted to ride alongside Lord Grayson in the very same carriage, he knew that something was on the horizon. Something bad. They sat in silence and Devlin could swear that it felt like he'd held his breath for the entirety of the trip. And now, here they were, staying in the mayor's house in the nondescript town of Kirlsa. The boy was given his own room and Lord Grayson had given him but one command... To not leave until he was permitted to.

Devlin made his way over to the single window in the room. He pulled back the drab curtains and pushed open the glass. The cool evening air hit his senses immediately and he was reminded of just how long he'd spent sitting inside the room. His second story view overlooked most of the small town. The only structure that stood taller than the mayor's residence was the windmill in the center square. Devlin's eyes focused on the slowly spinning blades although he didn't actually see them. His mind was too full of unanswered questions and the unshakable feeling of dread.

Just what was going on? Why had he been chosen to accompany Lord Grayson to Kirlsa? And why Kirlsa of all places? It all seemed so specific and yet so vague at the same time. Devlin couldn't see the ocean from his window, but he could hear the sounds of the crashing waves for the first time in his life. Sending a silent prayer to some unknown god, the boy asked for an answer. But the heavens above Ter'Ciel had been empty for far too long for any deity to hear him.

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Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet
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Genevieve was not prepared for the individual that opened the door. She expected Devlin, or the mayor, or Augustine to open the door, but plain as day in front of her, there was this plain little girl standing in the doorway. Genevieve couldn’t but look at her as if she was the cutest puppy she had ever seen, bordering on patronizing. "Good afternoon. How may I assist you?"

“Oh hello, I’m looking for Lord Augusti—“

“Genevieve! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Please come in, come in.” Lord Augustine Grayson pushed past the young girl in the doorway and ushered Genevieve into the small house. For a mayor’s house, there was nothing particularly lavish about it. But it had proper, furnished bed rooms, a dining room and kitchen, which was more than any other home in Kirlsa could boast.

While moving roughly past the dark haired door answerer Genevieve brushed up against her, and immediately her body felt a surge of power course through it. It almost hurt, but Genevieve didn’t let even a wince crack on her smiling face when in the presence of Augustine.

“Augustine I am SO happy to see you. Do you see what that Lydia has reduced me to? Traveling like some mere commoner. The royal car dropped me off so far from the city gates that I tore my dress I was wearing and now I’m resorted to dress like a complete and utter barbarian. Where is that little butler boy of yours? This needs attention straight away.” Genevieve knew exactly how she was going to play this. There was no way that any word of Genevieve’s travel had reached Augustine before she had. Augustine fancied her, and she knew it.

“Oh yes my dear, he’s in the bedroom down the hall, he does rather good work for a servant. But what has brought you he--?”

“Later darling, I simply cannot be seen like this. Is it down here?” Her last question posed to the mayor who may as well have not even been in the room.

“Oh yes my lady, at the end of the hall on your left,” he said as he gestured towards the bedroom.

“Oh thank you, hopefully this won’t take long,” and just like that she left the men and the young girl in the living room while she retreated to the bedroom to see Devlin. The door was locked so Genevieve tapped lightly on the door.

Devlin opened the door, and Genevieve simply pushed past him shouting exclamatorily , “Oh thank GOODNESS, please get to work on this and make it snappy!” She threw the dress at him and shut the door. Genevieve didn’t look to even see if Devlin had started to mend the dress or not, and she didn’t care. Her first task was to make sure there were no eavesdroppers for the next few minutes.

Removing a thicket of sage and ginger root from her bag she put them on the floor in the middle of the room. “Phesmatos incendia.” A small flame flickered to life upon the herbs. “Duade shenari invictus menor.” The flame completely encased the herbs and turned them to ash. Only a small ember was left in the middle of the room. Genevieve removed a candle from her bag and placed the wick over the ember, lighting the candle. With her silencing spell complete no sound could be heard from outside the room as long as the candle continued to burn.

Wasting no time she turned to Devlin, who was obediently sewing the rip in the dress. “Sorry about this Devlin.” Genevieve walked over to Devlin and pushed the needle he was using to mend the dress into his thumb and held it there. She paid no attention to if he screamed or not. “Ce che vous, pro la busque. Ce che vous, pro la busque. Ce che vous, pro la busque. Aducte do mi volum ix ti de.” Magic flowed from Genevieve as she spoke the incantation and the blood flowed back into Devlin’s body, visible on his arm as it traveled through his veins until it reached his brain. The spell Genevieve cast was known as Sight linking. Normally used for family members to see through the eyes of one another, any persons with a spiritual or other type of connection can use it to some degree.

When the spell was completed a few moments later Genevieve let go of him. She panted a little, attempting to regain her composure. “Tell me you see them. Close your eyes and please tell me you can see them!”

The setting changes from Ter'Ciel to Kirlsa

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Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet
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Devlin Íobairt


The light knock on his chamber door gave Devlin pause. Was it real? Was he actually hearing someone or was the isolation beginning to take its toll on his psyche? The mayor, Lord Grayson, it honestly didn't matter who was knocking. Devlin couldn't deny the not so subtle leap his heart had taken. With equal parts enthusiasm and hesitation, he opened the door...

“Oh thank GOODNESS! Please get to work on this and make it snappy!”

A flashing glimpse of a woman and then he was blinded.

'Wha...?'

The stranger had thrown something over his head. Instinctively, Devlin reached up, his fingers touching the unmistakable texture of velvet. Pulling the fabric off of him, the boy's eyes adjusted to the room. There, in the center of his bedchamber, she stood. She was petite. Slight but curvaceous, with raven black hair that fell to her waist in shimmering waves. She was rummaging through a satchel she carried and appeared to no longer notice him standing there.

Unsure of what, exactly, he should make of the situation, Devlin assumed she was an associate of the mayor or even Lord Grayson. She did look rather familiar. Without a word, he walked over to his sewing supplies on the table. He threaded a needle and began to work on repairing the torn garment.

In and out, he stitched, sneaking a glimpse of the woman whenever he could. When she withdrew a handful of herbs and a candle from her bag, it hit him;

'The witch lady!'

Of course! He'd seen her at the Grayson estate several times over the past few months. She was a witch. And quite the talented one if rumor were to be believed. Devlin had heard the other, more streetwise servants speak of her, always in hushed tones as if at any moment she could curse the lot of them. He had always been rather skeptical. What the boy saw next, however, chased away every bit of skepticism from his mind...

The woman must have lit the candle somehow. Setting it down, she focused her attention on him. Devlin watched as she made her way over to him, taking his hands in her own. She deftly pressed down on his fingers, which were still holding the sewing needle. A flash of pain shot through his hand and the boy cried out. He tried to pull away but found himself unable to move. His blood ran cold in an instant, veins carrying ice to all extremities of his body. Eyes wide, Devlin watched the woman whisper to him over and over again, though the words failed to reach his ears. Then, just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. She let go of him and the boy's body felt warm once more, as if the incident had never actually happened.

'Wh-what on earth...!?'

Through gasping breaths, the witch spoke. Her words were heavy with urgency...

“Tell me you see them. Close your eyes and please tell me you can see them!”

While Devlin rightfully had a rapidly growing list of questions for this mysterious woman, he found himself unable to form the words to ask any of them. Instead, he did as he was told. It was almost instinctual, how right it felt to close his eyes. And so the boy did as he was commanded...

He was moving. Fast. Blurs of colors and sounds passed him by. But he was staying still...No, it was the world itself that was moving. It moved with knowledge. With purpose. It was guiding him somewhere. Somewhere Devlin knew he should be. Giving himself up to the power, he allowed himself to see what it wanted to show him. Back in his lonely bedchamber, he spoke aloud what his mind saw...

"I see...the ocean. There's a dock...and...people...three people."

The images before him warped and twisted until they formed a new vision.

"A marketplace...here in town...I know...The windmill I saw it from here in my room."

Finally, the vision changed once more. He recognized it right away.

"A foyer...There's the mayor and...and Lord Grayson...!"

And suddenly he was falling. Forward and backward and out of control and -

- he was back in his room. The dark haired woman had an arm around his shoulders.

Devlin's eyes darted around the room. The table. The bed. The window. It was all here...Not moving...No more moving...
He looked up into the woman's face. She had done this. Of that, he was certain. When his breath returned to him, Devlin found the words to speak.

"Wh-what was that...? What did I see?"

The setting changes from Kirlsa to Ter'Ciel

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Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet
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"Wh-what was that...? What did I see?" Devlin stammered. Obviously, he had no idea what Geneveive had just done to him, and even less about his connection to these people. However, Devlin had said just enough that she now had undeniable proof that her original migration spell had worked. Now she just had to think of a way to round these people up.

Finding out who they are should be easy enough. Now that we know of a few locations and with how small this town is, anyone would be able to tell you who the new faces were. Genevieve just doubted that Augustine brought with him enough royal guards to be able to detain and transport these people. And there was still the matter of the young girl in the foyer, who seems to be one of the targets. Genevieve’s head spun with the complexities and importance of the decisions that she now needed to make. Her life, and the lives of the Feldspar’s, depended on what she did next. And so, she devised her next carefully thought out move…and will now put it into action.

“Devlin, I know that you don’t entirely understand what’s going but you’re going to need to trust me. I’m going to go and cause quite a commotion after I leave this room. Most likely Augustine and everyone else is going to vacate the house. You’ll see what I mean. I need you to gather whatever you can to survive, get that young maid girl and sneak out of town. Run, change your names, start a new life. And take this.” Genevieve removed the pendant from around her neck. It was a very powerful talisman her grandmother had spelled for her when she was born, it carried the crest of the Rain Fallers, the coven that Genevieve’s family hailed from. “If you’re ever in danger or don’t know where to go, clutch this pendant as tight as you can and say the phrase phesmatos duindem. The pendant will show you where to go or protect you. But remember that it’s power is not infinite. It will also show proof of your friendship to the Rain Fallers if you ever make it into witch territory in the wind lands to the south. Stay alive, and stay away from the capital.” And with that, Genevieve left the boy in his room. Probably as confused and alone as he was from before she entered.

As she entered the living room Genevieve calmed herself with a deep breath before her greatest acting to date would take center stage. “Augustine!” Genevieve shrilled at the top of her lungs. She sounded as if she was going to be murdered at any moment.

“Genevieve what is it? What’s wrong!?” The man called back, equally alarmed.

“I have seen them. They are here. My powers of divination cannot be any more precise. The spirits are churning today and they have shown me….a windmill….a dock…..the ocean…..and the marketplace! We must act quickly! Gather your guard and round them up! They are here!”

“Guards! You heard her, search the city starting in those areas our great witch has divined from the beyond and capture the enemies of the High Council of Airyglyph!” The small platoon of guards let out a cry and left the mayor’s house to begin their search. The mayor followed them out, with Augustine in tow. As all of these men stampeded out of the house Genevieve looked over her shoulder down the hallway to where Devlin was, the door still shut. She then turned to the young girl she had seen before.

“Be safe, huh? Trust him. He’ll know what to do.” And Genevieve left her following after the gaggle of morons she had so easily manipulated.

The setting changes from Ter'Ciel to Kirlsa

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Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet
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There were few times in her life that left Laelynn utterly confused. Preferring to stay in the background and avoid any form of confrontation meant she was very observant and often knew what was going on around her. Now, however, was one of those times where she had absolutely no clue what was happening. The woman before her hadn't even finished her sentence before Lord Augustine pushed past her, ushering the woman in. It was almost as if she wasn't even there, with the way both of them brushed past her without paying her any mind. Who was Lydia? If this woman, Genevieve, was royalty (which would explain why her clothes clashed so much with her face), why was she traveling alone?

None of these questions even came close to being answered, as Genevieve was soon rushing off, and Lord Augustine was certainly not going to provide any answers. Of course, Laelynn was okay with that- he didn't seem like the most friendly individual. Closing the door (which had been left open in the woman's haste) Laelynn simply waited for a moment for something else to happen, or to be given some direction. After a moment, Lord Greyson turned to her.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Prepare her some food and drink! She just had a rough journey!"

Laelynn jumped slightly, still surprised from the sudden commotion. "O-oh, yes! My apologies!" She scurried off, glad to be out of his presence. She hadn't done more than get a dish and glass out before a shrill voice screamed from down the hall.

Now what was going on?! Genevieve was a witch? There were enemies of Airyglyph around? What would people who were clearly wanted be doing in this tiny village, of all places? Hiding? But why hide somewhere they could easily be picked out from the natives of the village? She had left Selene to avoid criminals, she didn't want to end up where there were more!

She began to panic as the guards cried out and stormed out of the house. She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all. The last time she encountered a criminal, it nearly resulted in her death. Granted, she couldn't remember much of it- she had passed out at some point and was awoken to a guard making sure she was okay. The feeling, however, was still there, ingrained into her just as strongly as the time she had discovered she herself was capable of harm.

Before she got too caught up in her panic, however, Genevieve- the witch- turned to her.

"Be safe, huh? Trust him. He'll know what to do."

What? Trust who? Devlin? What does he know? That quiet boy, is he in on this too? She hadn't gotten the opportunity to do more than introduce herself and serve him meals, but she supposed now he would be her only source of answers. She watched as the woman swept through the room and out the door.

What was happening?

Confused and overwhelmed, Laelynn wandered down the hall, settling into a corner to gain some composure.

Don't panic. Don't panic. It will be okay. Just breathe. The guards will take care of whatever is wrong. Airyglyph guards. In Kirlsa. Yes, surely they can keep everyone safe. They are highly trained. It will be okay.

"...Devlin?"

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Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght
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Devlin Íobairt


In an instant, his life had changed. The shrill cries of the witch lady soon gave way to the clamoring of voices and footsteps as the commotion gradually drifted away from his tiny bedchamber. His birdcage.

They really had left. The lady was right. Lord Grayson, his bodyguards, the mayor...They had all chased off after...something. Or perhaps someone? Devlin's mind floundered across the myriad of possibilities. But the lady's words were what struck him hardest...

'Leave Kirlsa? With that maid girl? Why? I wish someone would please tell me what is going on!'

She'd warned him to avoid the capital. But Airyglyph was his home. Lord Grayson's manor was the closest thing to a home the boy had ever known. Change his name? Start a new life? As if he were some sort of wanted criminal or something? Devlin felt his face grow hot and his pulse quicken because it just didn't make any sense.

The boy would have questioned whether or not the entire incident had even taken place at all. Doubted what his eyes had seen and his ears had heard, if not for the object clutched in his hand. The proof that all of this was indeed, real.

Devlin opened trembling fingers to reveal a small gemstone he couldn't identify. Angled, obsidian black surfaces that flashed a deep violet in the light. It was strung on a thin chain of silver. The pendant felt cool in his hand...

'The...Rain Fallers?'

Devlin felt as cold as the pendant he held. Should he believe the words of that witch lady? She'd given him this pendant to offer some kind of protection.

'Protection from what?'

Lord Grayson had ordered him to stay in his room. Should he obey? Would he be returning soon? Devlin winced at the thought of what would happen to him should he disobey...but if what that witch said was true then -

"Devlin?"

The boy was ripped from his thoughts by a voice. Slight, like the tiniest draft from a crack in the wall. Devlin was even surprised he'd heard it at all. Cautiously, he grasped the doorknob. Holding his breath, he turned it and pushed the door open with a sickening creeeeak. For the first time in two days, the boy took his first steps outside of his bedchamber.

He'd found her immediately. In the corner, leaning against the wall, was a girl. Long, dark hair fell over her shoulders and when she looked at him,

'Those eyes...'

he saw his own fear and confusion reflecting back at him. It was like breathing. Devlin didn't question it right then, but hours later he would recall just how effortless it was. Instinctive. How he'd approached her, knowing that she was the one the witch had told him about. He steadied his hand as best he could, offering it to the girl.

"Are you all right?"

He grasped her hand.

"I...I'm not sure what's going on here, but...we have to go. Please, trust me...?"

That last part sounded more like a sad plea than anything reassuring. But how could he possibly reassure her of anything at all when he, himself, wasn't even sure of what he was doing?

Devlin felt her warm hand in his own and he held it tightly. Together, they ran, footsteps echoing in the now empty house. Down the hall and through the kitchen, he saw a small door that led outside. Without another thought, Devlin ran through, girl in tow. The cool night air filled his senses as it had before when he'd looked out the window of his bedchamber. His birdcage. But there was no birdcage anymore. He was spreading his wings and had to learn how to fly - and quickly. Devlin felt a rush of freedom unlike anything he'd ever known before. The dirt roads, the trees, the sky...Everything looked so different to him right now. It wasn't until he heard the commotion in the distance that his fear and adrenaline pushed itself back in.

Voices. And they were yelling. Whatever "commotion" that witch lady had caused was certainly effective. They had to move. Now. Or else there would be no luxury of a birdcage to return to. Somehow, Devlin knew that part of his life was over forever.

He turned to the girl beside him.

"What now? Where do we go?"

For having his first real taste of freedom, Devlin certainly didn't know how to savor it. How can he run from something when he didn't even know what he was running from? This girl...she lived here. Surely, she would know where they could go...

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Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght
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Laelynn's instinct once Devlin's fingers wrapped around her hand and she was steadied was to pull away, but he held firmly. This was the first time she'd seen him so close. He had a peculiar blue mark under his right eye. The boy certainly didn't seem the type to go and get a crazy tattoo, but it was definitely strange as far as natural marks go. He seemed just as scared as she was, but something in his grip was reassuring, even if his voice trembled. What other choice did she have but to trust him? He didn't seem to be faking his fear- in fact he'd have to be a star actor to be this convincing. The only other thing she could have done would be to wait there until the mayor and the others got back, but that wasn't currently something she wanted to do. She wanted to trust the boy. She just wanted to leave. Now.

She gave him a small nod, and the two took off into the moonlit night. She tightened her grip on his hand as they ran. It was unusual for her to connect with somebody, but there was just something about Devlin that drew her to him. It felt strange, nothing that she'd experienced previously. It wasn't friendship; it wasn't attraction. Honestly, she hadn't the slightest clue what it was or why she was feeling it, almost like some strange spiritual connection, though she had never been particularly spiritual, which made it all the more strange. Still, she felt a sort of security from him. Should things go wrong, it seemed like they'd find a way to get out of whatever mess they might find themselves in, though she definitely didn't want to think of what sort of mess that could be at this point.

"What now? Where do we go?" Devlin asked her as they slowed their pace to a stop.

Laelynn glanced around, trying to get through the jumbled state her mind was in enough to remember the layout of the village. "The docks. There's a way out of the village past them. It's usually pretty quiet at this time from what I've been able to tell, and the path past the docks is the lesser traveled path- well, not that any of the paths around here are particularly well-traveled. We should just be careful around the Tavern. I'm guessing that would be one of the top places to search for...whatever they're looking for... They might be making sure nobody leaves via boat as well, though, so we should proceed carefully. But quickly. Please."

She hoped she was making sense. She also hoped that she was right. Since being employed with the Mayor, she hadn't been around the village much, so all she had to go by was her first couple of days after arriving. At this point, she wasn't sure what was right or wrong. The whole village seemed to be getting turned-upside down, even though just a few hours ago it was the quietest, low-key place she had ever imagined. They just needed to find somewhere safe where they could start trying to figure out what was going on, and what to do next...

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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Devlin Íobairt


The warmth of the girl's hand anchored Devlin's feet to the earth and drove him onward.

'You're not alone... You're not alone...'

She was a stranger. He hadn't yet learned her name, even. But somehow, she instilled in him a sense of comfort. Of newfound confidence.

'Just get to the docks. Get to the docks and...and...?'

He couldn't bear to overthink things right now. The grim reminder that he had absolutely no plan made his stomach lurch with dread.

Bounding through a few backyards and alleyways, Devlin and the girl rounded a corner and the sea came into view. The shabby little pier that gave way to the waters; a churning, black mass in the moonlight. As the two sprinted forward, another two was gradually making their way toward them.

Devlin's eyes narrowed, unsure of whether or not they posed a threat. Should they run the other way? Did they already see him?

One was tall. Broad shouldered with messy white hair. The other was small and fair, practically radiating under the pale light of the moon.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Devlin was slowing to a jog before them. He felt the grip on his hand tighten and he squeezed back, hoping it would ease the girl's nerves. When they were just steps away from the couple, Devlin stopped. He tried to speak in between catching his breath...

"E-Excuse me...but...something is wrong...back in town." Devlin gestured back toward the center of Kirlsa. "We're trying to get out of here... Do you...do you know somewhere we could go? A boat, perhaps...?"

Why on earth was he talking to these two? It wasn't like him to be so outspoken. In truth, the last two sentences seemed like the most the boy had said in ages.

The maid from the mayor's house... The tall man, covered in scars... The petite girl with pale blonde hair...

He trusted them all. Even before he'd heard any of them speak, Devlin had decided that he trusted them. Was it mere naivete? A simple, childish ignorance and lack of street smarts? Or could it be something more? Something deeper?

Devlin's heart raced and his body felt electric in their presence. Toiling away in the Grayson manor every day of his life, the boy thought little of destiny. There was little point in pondering such things when it seemed the only "destiny" he was bound to was serving the nobility. A destiny of washing dishes, of cooking and sewing and cleaning... But now?

He felt an unmistakable connection here. As if someone or something had forged a tether between him and these three strangers. He couldn't be wrong. He simply couldn't... Standing here under the night sky of a town few visited, the air heavy and foreboding...Devlin felt this was the beginning of something much greater than he could ever fathom.

The setting changes from Kirlsa to Ter'Ciel

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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Cae was casually taking his time, hands still resting behind his head with his arms up, watching the groups of people from a distance as he leisurely strolled towards the windmill. 'Hey! Over here! Hey!!' one of the two women called out to them before being shoved inside. "Looks like a party, huh?" He spoke, not quickening his pace at all, clearly in no immediate rush.

Cel gave her partner an incredulous look, "Did you see the cloaked men with them? I think they could be in a situation like we were a moment ago.." She gave the windmill another cursory glance. "Didn't they want to bring us to the windmill, too?"

"They sure did." Cae nodded as he watched a man with blue hair be escorted into it as well only a few moments later. "Well... there is clearly some hidden room in there... unless they expected all of us to be buddy buddy and stand on top of each other." He sighed slightly. The pair continued to approach the windmill, Cae doing his best to inspect it as they grew closer, not noticing anything particularly special about the top of it- no lights, no sounds- so clearly they weren't being taken up, so the only other option was down. He started to think over his options.

Well, the two of them were outnumbered. Even if the three other captives were proficient at fighting, there were at least two guards per captive, and who knows how many more were stationed inside. But the only way to find out was to get in and look around. He stopped in his tracks for a moment. "What do you want to do?" His head turned towards his partner, raising a brow, wondering what the girl might be thinking.

She chewed on her lower lip, thinking for a minute. Barely out into the world and already caught up in a strange situation, she wasn't sure if she wanted to get caught up into more trouble. Still though, it was obvious the people pushed into the windmill weren't being led by their own volition, and if one of those cloaked men could attack her, she was sure they could do the same to those people. "I think we should check it out." She waved her hand a bit. "Well, I mean, if you think it's safe. I don't think the people in there will be much for conversation..."

"Really? I think that's their main topic, actually." He said rather bluntly as he started back up again. "Sure, they were threatening you, and wouldn't hesitate to harm you. But that man you cut had plenty of chances to kill you had he wanted.. so they are trying to gather us for a reason, and until then, I think they won't do anymo-" Cae cut himself off as he turned his head at the approaching pair of footsteps jogging to them. "Well, these two clearly aren't of the same group..." He said aloud as they approached and the boy gave his frantic request.

Cel narrowed her eyes at Cae. "They wouldn't have killed me, I had them handled just fine...." Her voice trailed off as the two strangers approached them. They both looked rather reserved, and it was obvious they were on edge about something. As she eyed them closer, she realized she had seen them somewhere before, as well. Putting a shaky hand on the side of her dizzy head, she listened to the boy speak. Are they caught up in this as well? She wondered.

The two were clearly worried about something going on, and it seemed far too coincidental that these men were gathering up people to the windmill. Cae looked down at the boy with a reassuring smile. Taking note of his appearance and the way he carried himself. A timid boy who was pushed to do something he didn't want to, ask help, from a stranger no less. The tattoo he had under his eye was a bit of a surprise though. But what Cae noticed the most was a flicker of determination behind his eyes, that shone through his stuttering. And then there was the girl. Not too much shorter than the boy, dark clothing, and looking around a bit to avoid eye contact. Not too unlike the boy before him, but seemingly more bothered by the asking for help.
His hands dropped down, one of them swiftly fishing out the old bronze coin, flipping it into the air and catching it, putting it onto his hand. "Call it, boy. If you're right, I'll help ya out." Cae had a feeling, a nagging notion, that no matter what the boy called, Cae would be helping him. Somehow he was sure all this was tied together somehow, and he couldn't help but feel the hunger for a new hunt grow inside him.

Devlin looked between the two confused, and nervously, eyeing the coin for a moment before stammering out a response before the coin his his hand. "T... Tails!"

"Well, looks like you win." Cae spoke as he removed his hand, not even looking at the coin, feeling that he had already won. "Here's the deal. This lovely lady and I have a date in that windmill with a bunch of assholes." As he spoke, he was putting the coin away, confirming that the boy before him had indeed won, and pointing to the foreboding windmill. "Now... it's just a hunch, but it seems like you might know something about these weird cultist guys that are after us. I understand if you can't tell us now.. but you are welcome to use my boat for shelter until we return, it's the small one with a single cabin, probably the only one in the port right now." Without waiting to see what the others were doing, he started walking, waving a hand over his head to the pair. "Name's Cae. You can thank me later. Or, you could come with us for the hunt." He flashed his smile over his shoulder.

Looking between the two and her friend, Cel watched Cae as he casually strolled away. "Sorry, um," she pointed a thumb at Cae, then gave a quick half-bow to the two strangers. "I'm Celsia Vorrine." She mumbled, then quickly ran to catch up to Caedes.

The timid pair looked to each other, shocked by the man who offered them sanctuary over a coin flip. "T-thank you..But... we will.. we will go to your boat.." Devlin stammered out, accepting the kindness from the two strangers. At the blonde woman's bow, he gave his own, taking notice of her more polite nature. The pair headed off to the port in search of the man's boat.

"Hope you are ready Cel, get your knife drawn and your reflexes sharp. We are walking into their territory." Unlike what Cae had told Cel to do, his hands were finding their way back behind his head, neither taking the appearance of one with sharp reflexes, or drawing his weapon. As the two approached the door, Cae moved his hand to knock on it, shrugged, then casually kicked the door in.

"Helllooooo~" He called out. listening for any sort of motion about. It was exactly a large room, and the stairs leading up clearly hadn't been used in some time. Looks like my hunch was right He looked around and sighed, kicking the rug to the side. "How cliche can you be..? Well. Get ready Cel, time to see why we were invited here." He pulled open the trap door and descended into the darkness, faint light could be seen below them, along with a small murmur of voices, too far off and distorted by the echos to make out. The pair made their way down the stairs, awaiting their encounter with the group.

The setting changes from Ter'Ciel to Kirlsa

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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The man Devlin had asked for help wasn't the type of person Laelynn would normally have approached. He was tall, intimidating, and looked as if he'd seen his share of bloodshed. This wasn't quite a normal circumstance, however, and the girl beside him appeared every bit his opposite. They were a strange pair to see traveling around together, but now wasn't the time to ask such questions. The real question was why was this man leaving his decision up to a coin flip? It seemed quite odd to leave such a decision up to something so very insignificant, and she didn't like the idea of chance deciding whether or not such a rough character would help them. Luck didn't seem to completely abandon them, however, as the coin had landed the way Devlin had called it, and the man agreed to help them. He had offered them his boat- a gracious offer- and Devlin accepted.

As Cae and Celsia (so they had introduced themselves as) headed toward the windmill, Laelynn and Devlin made their way to the boat. What was happening at the windmill? And who were the "weird cultist guys" Cae had been talking about? None of it made much sense, and it all felt very wrong. As Devlin began to climb into the boat, Laelynn paused and glanced back at the creaky windmill.

"What's wrong?" Devlin asked, feeling her hand pull away from his. "We should hurry."

"I don't know. Just...this whole thing. It doesn't feel right. I don't know what it is, but something's just wrong." It was almost as if the windmill itself was calling to her. No, not the windmill, something inside of it. Some nagging feeling that she couldn't place. Actually, it was quite similar to the way she felt about coming to Kirlsa. Something pulling her in, something she couldn't identify but couldn't ignore.

Laelynn turned to Devlin, unsure of what to do. He, too, seemed to pause at her words. He must have felt it as well. But what could they do? Devlin didn't exactly seem to be the fighting type, and Laelynn had no self-defense skills either. Well....except for...

"What do we do?" Devlin asked, stopping Laelynn's thoughts before they went down the wrong path.

Before Laelynn could answer, a voice shouted out from behind them.

"There he is!"

The two jumped. As Laelynn whirled around, several robed men ran at them, grabbing her as she tried to scramble into the boat. She glanced over at Devlin as he was grabbed as well, eyes filled with terror.

"Y-y-you-! He sputtered out, completely frozen in their grasps.

One of the men grinned one of the most sinister smiles Laelynn had never hoped to see. "You are needed, Devlin."

The two were dragged away from the boat, toward the source of all this confusion. Laelynn tried to pull free, but their grips were far too tight. They entered the windmill and were directed down a staircase into what could only be described as a dungeon. Several other individuals were already there, including the pair they had asked for help. A few of the people there were bound, including Cae. Celsia had a dagger to her neck. What was happening? Where were they? Why was this happening?! Laelynn was beginning to find it hard to breathe as she took in the situation she had found herself in. The voice that squeaked out of Devlin sounded like a mouse trapped in the paws of a lion,

"L-L-L-Lord G-Grayson?!"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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The dumbfounded child was as clueless as ever. Even now, Grayson felt nothing but contempt as he gazed upon Devlin's pathetic form. The boy had been nothing more than a tool. He'd gone through so much trouble to confirm the boy's existence, his location, to secure him and keep him confined in the manor for all these years. Always scampering about underfoot, trying to remain unseen, without any sense of pride or self. It was revolting to think that his, of all the souls on Ter'Ciel, was the one they needed. The one they all needed.

A tool. A tool he'd kept safe and polished and prepped for this very moment. Such a long time...but now the anticipation was unbearable.

With a voice that was all too familiar to the boy, Grayson called him...

"Devlin! Come!"



Devlin Íobairt


He was frightened. Lord Grayson's dress...his mannerisms...his face... It no longer resembled the man he'd feared his entire life. Twisted in terrifying display, Devlin stared at his master, eyes wide in disbelief. The man he saw scared him. But more than that, beyond the black cloak, the dagger, the trembling girl in his clutches...was his voice. It was unmistakably the voice of his master. Had it been just as unrecognizable as the rest of him, Devlin could have steeled himself. But the tone, the pitch, the accent, everything about it was burned into his mind just as it had been since he'd taken his first innocent steps into House Grayson. The fear and dread that accompanied was nearly instinct to the boy. As it reached his ears, he felt the pain of every lashing, every beating, every night spent without supper, all in a flash. And then it was over. He was moving. Standing before his master, awaiting his command. Ever the dutiful servant...

"Devlin." Grayson spoke, "The time has come for the most important command you are ever to receive. This girl is a danger to us all. To all Ter'Ciel. She and the rest of these cretins have eluded justice for years, but we have finally prevailed!"

The girl in his grip struggled to free herself. Instantly, Devlin recognized her.

'The girl from outside...'

He had just seen her moments before, walking with the silver haired man in the corner. He'd offered them his boat. Somewhere he and the maid girl would be safe. How long ago that seemed now...How far away that lonely, unreachable boat felt to him now. Almost like a daydream he wasn't sure he'd had.

When Lord Grayson spoke to him again this time, his voice was unrecognizable.

"Devlin...You must help me. Help us all. What I am saying will make no sense to you now, but you must trust in me. You are the only one who is capable of this!" Grayson sounded kind. He sounded...fatherly. Gentle yet firm. It was the way he'd speak to his sons during their fencing lessons or when they learned to ride horseback.

'Wh-what? Me...? What could I possibly do?'

The boy was speechless. His mind was racing to wrap itself around this entire situation because it was so far out of the norm from anything he'd ever known before. Ever since this trip started, his entire life had been turned upside down. Grayson had never been able to stand so much as the sight of him before. And then he goes and requests him as a personal servant for a trip to the middle of nowhere? And now here they were, underground in some scary looking dungeon with strangers who were tied up and...and...

Devlin felt out of breath. He needed to know what was going on here. Now.

One of the hooded people approached and grasped his hand. Devlin looked down as they placed a small, golden dagger in his grip. The hilt was warm and the blade felt surprisingly heavy despite its size. He glanced back up at his master quizzically.

"Devlin...you must steel yourself and end the life of this girl. Of all these prisoners!"

'What!?!?'

"Obey your master and kill her now!"

'No no no no no no...'

It was unreal. He was asking him to...to kill someone!?

'Why me!? Why do I have to be the one!? What have these people done? How are they dangerous?'

They didn't look dangerous at all. In fact, most looked to be about his own age. They were normal looking people. They weren't the ones wearing cloaks and holding knives!

'What is going on...?'

Grayson noted the boy's hesitation. He raised his voice, anger and impatience getting the better of him.

"Kill her!!"

Devlin's mouth opened in protest, but no sound left his lips. His entire body was trembling.

'I-I can't! I can't do that! I can't kill her! I can't kill anyone! I can't do it...I can't...I can't...!'

Suddenly, Devlin was being grabbed from behind. He watched in horror as a crimson clad arm reached over and grabbed the hand clutching the golden dagger. Squeezing their grip, they forced the boy's arm up. Blade poised above the girl, he was unable to move, the girl's eyes squinting shut in terror. Someone screamed. Or was it his own voice?

Devlin's vision whited out as the figure readied to bring the dagger down, his hand down and plunge it into the girl's chest.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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Things…spiraled out of control rather quickly. Guards scattered, people began to shuffle about the town, and men and women donning cloaks began to descend upon the small town of Kirlsa. It was difficult to describe the sight that Genevieve was viewing within the town. It became both more lively and more cryptically empty at the same time. It was clear activity was taking place, the townsfolk retreating to their homes, shops beginning to close up, but this overwhelming darkness began to sweep over the dusty roads, and Genevieve did not like it.

Augusto looked over to the young witch, beckoning to her. “Come with me my lady, I believe the gathering is nearly complete. You should witness the fruit of your labors.” Augusto spoke with an otherworldly arrogance that was not of his regular show of ignorance. She was slightly unnerved to follow him towards the windmill, but in the role she was playing, she had no choice.
“Of course my lord, I would be happy to accompany you. To where are we going?”

“To the windmill darling, we have a stronghold there and that is where we will complete our work.” She didn’t like the way her used to the word “we.” It didn’t feel like he was using the word to refer to the High Council of Airyglyph, but a more personal, intimate group of…”we.”

As she followed Augusto into the base of the windmill, to find the captives that he had taken, she realized just how much of her original plan was falling apart. In the dark hole that was the subterranean lair of Augusto and his group of followers, she saw all of the people that she had summoned with her spell months before. They varied from looks of panic, fear, determination, and indignation. She saw the young maid and Devlin, obviously failing to get out of the city.

As commotion and yelling between parties was commencing, Genevieve blocked it out and got to work. She removed her family’s grimoire from her bag and began to search through for the spell she needed. She didn’t want to see the death of these people, and she was going to have to work quickly to stop it. First, she needed to link together the group so that whatever happened to one, happened to all. Also, she needed to use Devlin’s power and her own to begin to the process of reawakening the gods. At least, she hoped that her hunches were correct and that her family’s grimoire was pointing her to the right conclusion about the young lives that were now so precariously hanging in the balance.

It was just as she saw Devlin about to plunge a dagger into the young girl’s chest that she found what she needed, “Motis!” With a blast of pure force the man let go of Devlin’s hand and flew against the nearby wall, slumping to the ground unconscious.

“What is the meaning of this Genevieve?!” Augusto spat at her.

“I’m sorry my lord, but I cannot let them die so soon. At Lydia’s request I need to complete a final spell to make sure they are the ones we seek…and that their powers are not yet awakened,” Genevieve lied. She wanted to try and give as much information to the group of young captives she could, so that maybe they would understand that she was on their side, at least for the moment.

“Lydia always did like to be thorough…fine, but make it quick,” Augusto said.

Genevieve worked at a frenzied speed. She set up candles throughout the room, drew blood once again from Devlin’s hand and her own, and took a strand of hair from each captive. Sitting in the middle of the room she muddled together all of the ingredients in her mortar and placed it in front of the candle.

In a low voice, she began chanting, “O ni om naha, ma pharenu , o ni om naha, ma pharenu…” She continued to chant, power welling up inside the room slowly, winds picking up around them, howling to life as she continued to chant, louder and louder over the screech of the winds in the cave, flames from the candles licking the walls, blood beginning to run down the nose of Genevieve, the spell taking a very heavy physical toll on her body. Chaos was completely erupting from within the small room, and her spell was taking effect. Genevieve was casting a spell that linked together the reincarnations of the former gods, Devlin, and herself. Genevieve acted as the conduit for power, Devlin as the key to which it traveled through, and the gods as the recipients of the power. But, she was missing one critical ingredient to the spell that even she did not know, and thus was casting magic that was rather unstable and taking a much harsher toll on her body than she would have imagined.

Waves of energy crashed over everyone in the room, and she could not hold on to the spell any longer, and with one final scream of her incantations, she collapsed unconscious, blood freely flowing from her nose, eyes, and mouth, and weakened beyond all recognition.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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"Kill her!"

Laelynn watched the scene play out before her in horror. It all felt so surreal, and yet, she knew it was very real. All around her were prisoners- herself included. They had been gathered up to this slaughterhouse for reasons she couldn't begin to figure out. Devlin was being forced to kill the girl they had just met, the girl who had tried to help them escape. As Laelynn saw the dagger rise up into the air, her entire body froze.

Glass Shattering.

Screams.

Blood.

The overhead lights glinting off of the knife as he turned to face her next.


The screams from the room mixed with the screams in her head as past and present melded together. Somebody yelled something. A body flew back, slamming into a wall. She knew this scenario all too well. It was just like that time.

What time?

That's why she had wanted to leave her city. So many lives lost, because of a single person, years ago. Was it years ago? What had caused it? Why hadn't she remembered until this point? Though, she hadn't ever truly forgotten. If she had, it wouldn't be coming back to her now. The memories that were buried were pushing their way up, forcing through the barriers that had kept them down since the incident- the barriers that had kept her safe.

An uncontrollable fear welled up inside of her. Death was hovering just outside the room, waiting to reap. How many would die was uncertain, but lives would certainly be lost tonight. Those who didn't kill would be killed.

A woman began to chant something. Laelynn's eyes were fixated on her. She recognized the woman's face, though could not place who it was. The chants got louder, but were gradually got drown out as the winds picked up and the world around Laelynn grew dark, something heavy pressing on her senses. Soon, the only thing she could see was the face of the woman, blood pouring from every crevice.

'Destroy.'

The ground around her feet began to split. A line shot out, running along the ground and up a wall. The sound of cracking rocks echoed through the room as an unseen force tore up the walls. Wood splintered as it continued to the floor above. Genevieve collapsed. Panicked voices began to rise up amongst the noise. (Was there any other noise?) An uncontrollable power surged through the room, threatening to engulf them all. Dust and debris fell from overhead.

The windmill was going to collapse.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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Iron, stone and building pressure, Mackenzie took in everything as it occurred. The prophecy of her death gave her expression a hardened look, but little else changed in her stance. The little slip of a girl showed spirit, but the timing was wrong. The witch’s distraction held more promise, drawing more gazes away from her and her companion as she began her ritual. She glanced at the others, counting captives and captors with disappointing results. She might be able to make it to the doorway, but hauling Little Miss Fancypants through was not going to be easy, let alone getting any of the other captives out. She knew she wasn’t responsible for any of them really, even the lady from the tavern, but she wasn’t the type to run from a fight when help was needed.

The energy filling the room did not go unnoticed either. Whatever the witch was doing, it seemed like this would be her chance. She gripped the handle of her wrench more firmly, the familiar sensation of metal against skin strangely more intense, as if she could feel the entire length of the tool and all its parts. For a moment it seemed a shame to use such a solidly wrought tool as a weapon, yet she knew more deeply than ever the endurance forged within the iron.

Blood dripped from the witch’s face and she started to slip downward. Mackenzie surged, erupting from stillness just as the ground split. An arcing swing connected, reshaping the skull of the nearest hooded figure in a way that could not be recovered. The earth moved, a shudder racing through the foundations of the mill. Glass shattered, solid beams groaned under the strain. Gaining a firm grasp on Hans’ arm with her free hand, she swung again, letting momentum pull the girl to safety as the next guard crumpled.

When the timbers gave way, they appeared as a flash, visible yet not throughout the entire structure. Having already shifted her momentum, the strangeness of this did not stop the ironworker in her path. Another swing brought another strike, this one meeting the delicate steel of a dagger drawn in defense. The guards were rousing themselves, struck by the confusion but scrambling to defend. The dainty weapon and the fingers that grasped it gave way, only managing to redirect the blow to the man’s ribs and send him flying. Another flash from the structure, another groan of wood, this time alarming Mackenzie in a way she could not yet identify. Shoving Hans roughly away from her in the direction of escape, the two separated just as a pile of debris rained down onto the spot they had just stood. How she had recognized the instability would come down at that moment was unclear, but now was not the time to mull it over.

“GO!” she barked, a swift order of a woman accustomed to making herself heard, ordering Hans to seek safety as she went for the next nearest captive, pulling a short utility blade to cut the redhead loose – the more free hands the better. The mill was falling around them, but she knew there was a chance to help at least some of the others to safety.

The setting changes from Kirlsa to Ter'Ciel

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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#, as written by Celsium
She squeezed her eyes shut as the boy before her raised his blade high- but no harm came to her. With a powerful shove by an unknown force, the cloaked assailant in front of her was slammed into the wall. She whipped her head towards a dark-haired woman and felt herself become faint upon seeing her face. Was it because she, too, was familiar? No, it was something more than that. Some type of power radiated about her. A witch?

Celsia complied and offered her hair to the mysterious dark lady. It wasn't like she could say no- after all, the woman had just prevented her untimely death. Watching in a trance, the woman began to chant incantations, stronger and louder with each word. The air in the room felt thick, and heavy, as if they were underwater. And yet the air began to swirl and rush by with great force.
It was hard to breathe. Like an intense and powerful heat wave, something in the air was overpowering. Celsia looked up to face her friend, but instead a raging storm at sea crashed at her feet.

What is happening?! She looked up into the clouds and the sky opened up like a canvas, hosting blurry visions and images. They flashed by her eyes one after another- some places she had never been to- some faces she had seen before. She looked back down. Perched atop scorched earth, a great chasm had torn through the earth and there was no sign of life anywhere. Where am I?!
The world around her began to spin uncontrollably, the wind blowing around like a raging tornado, the visions swirling before her. There was grass beneath her feet- snow- cobblestone-- she couldn't keep up. Trapped in a torrent reverie, she thought she could hear someone scream one last incantation.
The ground stopped shifting, the world stopped spinning. Celsia closed her eyes and fell away with her visions into the darkness.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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The mans eyes were frantic, looking for an opening, looking for anything that he could use to try and help Cel out of the dire situation. Only one thing came to mind, while everyone watched the boy with the blade, Cae's hand went to his sword. He inched slightly as the boy fought with himself, clearly not wanting to do stab Celsia, but from what Cae could tell, starting to lose himself to the will of Grayson. 'Sorry kid.. nothing personal.' He thought to himself as he readied himself to slash through the guard that was guiding Devlin's hand, and cut off Devlin's hand if needed. Right as he took his breath, a woman yelled out a foreign word, and there was a sudden blast of energy. With the confusion, Cae fixed himself, trying to not look too obvious, but he was just as curious as the rest of the group was. What had just happened.

A witch? Here? Just what he would have liked the least to be there, was someone using magic. While Cae had some run ins with wannabe mages or witches, he had never really experienced a spell up close like this, a shudder vibrated through his spine. He couldn't even see the spell, so how was he going to fight a witch and manage to get out. His mind was a race, his eyes scanning around constantly, but always finding a moment to look back and make sure Cel was alright.

As the witch spoke, Cae started to get a feeling from her. It was almost as if she was stalling.. And she surely was giving out a lot more information than anyone else had since entering here.. Was she trying to save them? 'Woah. Hey there.' He thought for a moment as the witch came and plucked one of his hairs. His eyes gave her a glance over, despite her attire, she had a figure, and he couldn't help take notice. Shaking his head clear for a moment, he noticed Cel had been released, so that the witch could retrieve a lock of hair from her as well. 'I hate magic...' He thought again before his eyes widened at what he was witnessing. He could feel a strange energy churning around him, the hair on his body standing on end as his instincts to run went crazy. The floor vibrated, the cave they were in shook, he could feel it all, he could sense the disaster incoming. This was no place to be with this much energy going rampant. He made a move to get to Cel as all eyes were on the witch. Except for the larger, more built woman that had come in ahead of him. He glanced over at the familiar sound of a head being caved in by a blunt tool. His grin that had been lost since Cel's capture had returned. 'Looks like the party is starting.'

As he took his steps towards Celsia and Grayson, Cae felt some weird pressure on his head, but he didnt think anything of it. All that was on his mind was grabbing Cel and getting out of this cave before it collapsed. All this energy was freaking him out for some reason, but he took deep breaths, remaining cool and collected. A guard that had turned from the magic faced him, looking up slightly, just above Cae's head, his brows furrowed in confusion, but Cae didn't question it. In a swift horizontal motion, Cae cut him open then moved to the next, each one, for some reason looking up, above his head. He didn't have time to look around to see what was going on. Everything was clear around him. He could hear every breath in the room, he could smell the scent of blood pouring from the victims of the wrench and his own blade, the scent of fear as the cultists were slowly realizing what was going on. His eyes were sharp. While the pirate had been known for his good vision before, this was to the next level. Every little detail could be seen. Every movement, he could see, process, and react to, it was like he was an animal going for the kill. Nothing was going to escape him. Unknown to him, he had infact grown a pair of black furred, canine like ears from the top of his head, and his eyes had shifted from their normal deep red, to a bright, vibrant yellow.

As he got closer, the cultists backed away, afraid of the demon walking before them. Despite Grayson's commands to attack, they started to mostly ignore the pirate with glowing yellow eyes, pushing each other back to get away. "Smart choice. Guess you recognize the Silver Fang finally. " The scarred face smirked as he made his way to Cel, who thankfully had stepped a few wobbly feet closer to the witch, and luckily away from Grayson. Before he could get to her, she started to collapse. "CEL!" He yelled, jumping to her while putting his sword away, catching her in his arms before she could hit the dirt. She was unconcious, the magic must have done something to her. Or maybe the shock of almost being a sacrifice... oh well, she was safe now. Shifting her onto his back, he hunched over a bit and wrapped her arms around him, both his hands supporting the small girls legs. He knew she was light, but for some reason, she felt lighter than normal, like he was stronger. Maybe it was all the adrenaline kicking in, but it felt like she was nothing.

Next were the two kids, Devlin and the black haired girl. From the sound of it, the larger woman was helping out one of the other prisoners, so they should be ok. And most of the cultists were trying to leave as well. "Hey, kid!" He looked down at the two, not sure what was going on with the black haired girl, but she looked like she was having a panic attack. "Dev. Snap out of it. Get her out of her. COME ON KID! Be a man and help me get these two out of here." They didn't have time to stand there trying to comfort everyone, and they were now becoming more separated from the other group of prisoners from collapsing ceilings and walls spliting open. His head turned back to Devlin. "If you don't hurry up, I'm leaving without you." He spoke rather harshly, but he needed the boy to snap out of it and move.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet
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Devlin Íobairt


'I...I was going to kill her...'

The phrase reverberated in his head over and over. He knew he was powerless. He knew that another hand was guiding his own. But nothing seemed to justify the cold fact that he, himself, had been mere seconds away from taking an innocent life.

Devlin stared into the distance, eyes cloudy and vacant.

Why? Why did Lord Grayson forcing him to do that? These people trapped down here...they didn't appear to be dangerous or evil. And if his master truly did want them dead, he had an entire group of people who were apparently under his command down here with him. It made no sense for the horrific deed to fall upon the shoulders of a young servant.

The witch lady had returned, stopping him from killing the girl. She spoke to Lord Grayson, convincing him she needed more time for...something. Devlin didn't know. His senses took in the sights and sounds of the room, but everything failed to reach his consciousness. He was numb. Lost in his own labyrinth of shock and guilt.

She was performing some kind of ritual, it seemed. The air in the room became heavy and it was difficult to breathe. Devlin wasn't sure if it was due to whatever spell the witch was casting, or if it was all in his own mind...the image of the cowering girl and the dagger in his hand the only thing he could truly see in great detail.

Frantic incantation. An unseen wave crashing against him. And then the ground beneath him began to tremble. All around him was panic. The people in cloaks were scrambling about and Devlin could hear the faint sounds of fighting from somewhere behind him.

"Hey, kid!"

More yelling. Was the windmill collapsing? Was that the cause of all the commotion?

"Dev, snap out of it! Get her out of here. COME ON, KID!"

Someone shoved past Devlin, knocking him to his hands and knees. He looked up, eyes wide as he saw the man with the silver hair, Cae was it? He had been the one yelling to him. Devlin saw him carrying the girl from earlier. The one he'd almost...

'No! I...'

The boy was ripped from his guilt by a strange sight...

It was Cae. His eyes were shining a bright yellow, illuminated even more intensely in the darkness of the cellar. And above them...on top of his head... Ears? They were furry, like a dog's. Perked up as if they were listening intently.

'H-how on...?'

"If you don't hurry up I'm leaving without you!"

Cae was right. Devlin needed to move. A pair of dog's ears wasn't even the strangest thing that had happened tonight. But if he were to give up, if he were to surrender and die here tonight, then he would never get the answers that his heart yearned for. He mustered the strength to speak...

"A-all right!"

Devlin turned toward the girl with the dark hair. She was panicked, staring off into nothingness just as he was moments ago. Her eyes were filled with horror.

Gently, he took hold of her shoulders.

"Hey. Hey! Please! It's okay. We're going to be okay if we can just get out of here. Don't be afraid."

The girl didn't respond. He could feel her body trembling, almost radiating with energy and emotion. All around them the foundation collapsed. Support beams cracked as if hit with a sledgehammer. Glass shattered and dirt fell from above. But the area around them was untouched.

Devlin hugged the girl tightly, arms wrapping around her slight frame. He laid his chin on her shoulder and spoke to her.

"Please...don't be afraid. We're all right. We're going to be all right. Everyone is together now and we'll be fine. Please...we have to go now."

He wasn't entirely sure what he'd meant by 'everyone is together now.' Perhaps it was merely the fact that they had all been dragged into this madness. Whatever the reason, the words flowed from Devlin because they just felt right. In the collapsing darkness of this hell they found themselves in, it was a welcomed miracle that finally something somehow felt right.

The setting changes from Ter'Ciel to Kirlsa

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght
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"What can I do, what is my choice?
How can I live if I destroy?"


Laelynn Wyght

Footsteps and screams echoed in her head as panic overtook the room. All around her, people were moving, but it all sounded far away, and she saw nothing. Laelynn felt disconnected, as if she were just listening to a movie in the background, not truly registering was was going on. She was not even aware of her own existence.

From between the screams came a softer voice. It sounded closer to her than all the others. She couldn't make out what it was saying. Gradually, it grew in volume and became the dominant sound despite being far softer than the barks and cries from everyone else, pulling her back into herself as she once again became aware of her presence.

"...going to be alright... Everyone is together now, and we'll be fine. Please...we have to go now."

All at once, the scene came crashing into her. Things were shattering and crumbling all around. People were running away, fighting, escaping. A pair of arms were around her, and somebody's chin was resting on her shoulder.

Devlin.

Panicked, she shoved him off of her. As their eyes locked, she could see the confusion, worry, and even a tinge of hurt in his expression. She said nothing, simply staring at him for a brief moment. As something large fell somewhere behind them, she knew she had to get him out. She ran past him, roughly grabbing his wrist with no explanation, holding on only long enough for him to start running with her, then immediately letting go. She knew if he remained too close, she would hurt him. She wanted to scold him for getting so close, for touching her, but there wasn't time for that. She couldn't let him get hurt.

Ahead of them was the couple from before, the man glancing back, appearing to check if the others were following. Did he always have animal ears? Was she imagining things? Either way, it wasn't important. One of the cloaked men tried to block their path, but Laelynn simply shoved into him, catching him off-guard enough for him to stumble aside and let them by. She kept running, following the dog-eared man, not knowing nor caring where they were going. All she wanted was to get away. Far away. And once they were away from here, she would keep running, away from all of them. She couldn't be here. She couldn't be near them. She wasn't going to once again cause the death of somebody who was trying to protect her.

"What is my destiny?
Where is the reason to exist?"

The setting changes from Kirlsa to Ter'Ciel

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Genevieve Oullet Character Portrait: Maren LeChance
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"I'll tell you now I'm the one to survive
You'll never break my faith or my stride"


Kai Seward


Things couldn't get any more bizarre. There were now several more people in the room, presumably also dragged here by the cloaked individuals. There were no noticeable similarities among them- the prisoners ranged from a man who had clearly seen his share of battles to a rather frail looking girl. Some of them looked terrified, others were keeping their cools and waiting for the right moment to make a move. There was no indication of why they might have all been gathered there. At least until the presumed leader finally spoke, announcing that they were all to die.

Kai tensed, ready to fight back. He was at a great disadvantage, but there was no way he was going to die here, not in this place, not to some psychos who apparently had nothing better to do with their lives. Whatever was going on, he was going to get out of there.

The first one to make a move, strangely enough, was the most frail-looking girl there. Not surprisingly, she was quickly apprehended, giving the cultists another advantage over the rest of them. Kai wasn't exactly the one to let innocent people die, but if it came to kill or be killed, he'd have to put his own well-being over the girl's.

As the man, apparently known as Grayson, ordered a young boy to kill her, Kai glanced around, searching for an opening. Would it cause enough of a distraction for him to break free? He was still flanked by two of the cultists, but maybe they would be so busy watching this unfold that he could overpower them...

Before anybody was able to make a move, however, something was shouted and a man went flying into a wall. This was followed by a rather beautiful dark-haired woman collecting strands of hair from everybody and setting up what seemed to be a totally different ritual than what Grayson had in mind.

Okay, so things could get more bizarre. But surely nothing could top this, right?

As the woman continued her ritual, some unknown force began to well up inside of the room. While he still had absolutely no clue what was going on, something told him this would be their chance to make an escape. The energy picked up as the woman continued to chant, louder and louder, the spell taking a heavy toll on her body. As she collapsed, the ground began to shake. An earthquake? The guards holding him were beginning to panic, conflicted about whether or not to keep their grip on him or save themselves. Taking advantage of their confusion, Kai headbutt one of them in the nose. As he stumbled back, the girl's grip weakened, allowing him to shove her away. The tremors grew in strength, and a large crack echoed throughout the room as a support beam broke. Now was the time to leave.

The man who had been holding his sword dropped it on the ground as he ran to escape. Kai ran toward it before realizing he was still bound. With a heavy, frustrated sigh, he dropped to his knees to reach his sword, grasping the hilt between his hands. Unfortunately, there was no way to use it to cut himself free- not with the place collapsing. He wouldn't have had time to prop it up so that he would have access to the sharp edge, and he didn't want to risk spending any more time in a collapsing windmill basement.

He made his way back to the entrance, narrowly avoiding being knocked out by a falling beam as he crossed the threshold to the staircase. He hobbled up the stairs, sword clanking on each step as it dragged behind him. He couldn't help but think how stupid he must look as he ascended, thankful that everyone was too panicked to really pay any attention to him.

The cool night air welcomed him as he ran out of the windmill. Kai caught up to the others, who had briefly stopped a short distance from the windmill.

"Well, now what?" He asked, glancing from a small-gray haired boy to the tall man with...wolf ears? Whatever, he would question that later. For now, he just needed to know how to get out of here.

"Through our strength, we'll make a better day
Tomorrow, we shall never surrender"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine
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Caedes

"Alright, this should be good for now." Cae huffed out to the ragtag group. They had made it out alive, and were in a breath of panic. For whatever reason, Cae's breathing was quickly recovering, like he hadn't used much energy... but he chalked that up as an adrenaline rush.

It was night now, and only a few lanterns from the town shed light on the rubble that lay behind them. 'Well, now what?' Cae heard from behind him, turning swiftly to keep Cel on his back and out of possible danger, but it was a black haired man, still bound from earlier. "Ah... Dev." He called out, shifting his grip on Cel to search her thigh for the knife she hide there, finding it, and handing it to the boy before returning his hand to under her to make sure she stayed up. "Untie this guy. My hands are full as is."

He noticed everyone giving him strange looks, but they never asked him anything, just, looked at him, then up, then away. 'Maybe they recognize me?' He thought as he looked around at the group. Devlin and Laelynn, the black haired man who was finally being cut free, and two other women, complete opposites of each other from what he could see, that Cae hadn't gotten the names of yet. "So... I don't know about you lot. But I'm gonna go take sleeping beauty here to rest on my ship... I suggest you all try to hide away somewhere. They knew who we were, and where to find us since we got into town..." His expression grew a tad grim as he thought about it. Cae hardly had any ties in this town, even if there were posters of him up from somewhere, the chance of him being found out was fairly slim. "Hide out where you know the people around you.. I'm sure they will be back."

He let the group talk about their plans as they wanted as he moved away a bit, nodding to Devlin to talk with him. "Hey, if you two still need, you can come with me. I offered you safety before, so I intend to keep my promise. I don't know what the others are going to do, but you are your own man, so the choice is your own."

The setting changes from Ter'Ciel to Kirlsa

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Rais Crevan
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"My arms are outstretched, I hope for the best
And act rich before I get paid"


Rais Crevan

The clanking of glasses and sound of laughter filled the air around the tavern. Farther into the village, it was calm and quiet. On the surface, it seemed like another typical night in Kirlsa. But as time went on, this night would be unlike any other the small village had ever experienced.

There was an almost undetectable energy flowing through the air, like tiny static shocks ready to zap anyone who wandered too close into a heightened state of alertness. Rais could feel a slight prickling sensation that had nothing to do with the beer he had consumed a short while ago while talking to a couple lovely ladies at the bar.

Something was happening, and it was happening soon.

"It was very lovely talking to you both, but I'm afraid I must get going."

The brunette girl pouted, as if such an expression would make him change his mind. "So soon? It's still so early!"

"Come on, at least one more drink." the blonde smirked, index finger running up the length of Rais' arm.

The man flashed an apologetic sort of smile as he rose from his seat. "As much as I'd love to share another, I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow. Drinking all night wouldn't be wise. Here, as a thanks for the company, take this." He tossed a bronze token, amused as the two drunk women fumbled to catch it. "It was a gift, now I'm passing it on to you. Take care of yourselves."

Leaving them to decide who would hold onto it (and which one he had "totally" winked at), Rais made his way out of the noisy tavern. While bars were a great place to find out the latest happenings of any town, it was astounding how stupid people could get when they'd consumed alcohol. Of course, that just made talking to them even easier. Of course, in a town like this, there wasn't much in terms of interesting occurrences, not until recently, at least.

According to long-time residents, more new faces had begun showing up as of late. Outside of business trades, not many people wandered into Kirlsa. A new few faces were apparently floating about, and Rais had heard some vague mentionings of somebody important coming to visit the mayor this evening. Normally, it wasn't something to make a big deal about, but tonight wasn't normal.

Rais hadn't come to Kirlsa because it sounded like a fun place to be. On the contrary, it was the complete opposite of where he would choose to travel to. Rais had come to Kirlsa because he knew he would find the answers he needed here. And now, with this strange energy gently pulsing through the town, he knew his instinct had been correct. The clock was ticking. All this waiting around was about to pay off.

In what somehow felt like hours and seconds at the same time, the stillness of the night was broken.

The sounds of pounding footsteps and shouts startled the quiet village. Foreign guards ran through with purpose as scared residents locked their doors and peeked out from behind their windows. Sounds of scuffle broke out here and there, and strange cloaked figures swept through the night, claiming various individuals.

Rais had heard about some sort of large-scale even that would eventually be taking place from a passerby a few days ago. Alcohol made the tongue loose, and Rais had easily pried some interesting tidbits from the strange man. By all accounts, he sounded like a drunk lunatic, mumbling about the "power of the gods" and an ushering of a "new era", and under any other circumstances, Rais would dismiss him as such, but he knew this man was not just mental.

The gods were real.

How Rais knew this, he couldn't explain. It made about as much sense as his desire to come to Kirlsa, but something told him that this was real.

Rais snuck about the chaos, keeping to the shadows as not to be caught. Not too far away from where he was watching, a dark-haired man was being harassed by some of the cloaked individuals. While he put up a fight, ultimately, he lost, being tied up and dragged away. The man required much of their attention, so once they were far enough away, Rais quietly followed them. When they disappeared into the windmill, Rais hid nearby, waiting to see what would happen.

For a while, everything was dead quiet. The yells at stopped and there was nobody else running around. None of the residents dared to come out from their homes, likely terrified at the sudden chaos in their dull village. Only the sound of the ocean reached Rais' ears.

Suddenly, the energy picked up again. The sparks of energy became blasts, and Rais could swear he felt the very earth beneath him tremble. All at once, something without physical form slammed into him, paralyzing him.

Something from the past. A memory, seen from somebody else's eyes that belonged to him. Others around him, weak but determined. An evil, engulfing the world. A woman, promising that they would one day return.

"I'll see you again, Brother."

'I won't let this foolishness happen again!'

The gods were real.

Their powers were back.

They were here.

Reborn.

Then, almost as soon as they started, the memories stopped. The energy in the air vanished. The tremors, however, did not. As the ground shook, a loud crack pierced the sky. Rais watched as the windmill began falling apart. Panicked screams could be heard issuing from somewhere inside of it. People began rushing out, some of them the cloaked individuals from before. Rais' eyes locked onto a small woman being carried in a man's arms. He'd never seen her before in his life, and yet, she looked familiar...

"...Brother."

A small group had formed a short distance away. As Rais got closer, he heard a man's voice ask, "Well, now what?" As they talked amongst themselves, Rais approached.

"Hey!" The conversation stopped as everyone turned to him. A couple of them looked absolutely terrified. What was left of the energy from before seemed to concentrate all in this one spot. These had to be the people he was looking for. "I saw what happened. I can get you guys out of here. I know you're probably wondering who the hell I am, but we don't have much time to sit around chatting. I don't think I have to tell you something weird is going on in this place. I can get you all out of here and to a place you can safely rest."

He watched the group's reaction, hoping they wouldn't question him too much, as he didn't think he could explain properly if he tried. Judging by the expressions on their faces, however, they knew even less of why they were all there. "How about it?"


"After the party I know everybody
But no one gets beyond this mask"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hans Amsel Character Portrait: Kai Seward Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Mackenzie Truko Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght Character Portrait: Celsia Vorrine Character Portrait: Rais Crevan
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Hans Amsel


Hans had always loved the moonlight. The way it bathed everything it touched in a serene, pale glow. In the moonlight, dark shadows were cast upon one's face, creating a unique, beautiful contour that couldn't be seen in the bright light of day. Human passion had always seemed stronger after dark. Inspiration, love, lust...all things were more beautiful in the moonlight. How appropriate, then, that it was in the moonlight that the man had appeared.

Tall and lithe with tanned skin, he looked like a man who had seen much of the world. Hans' eyes traveled up and down the stranger, drinking in every last detail; His confident stance and charismatic gestures. The fine details of his clothing. And his eyes. Piercing blue and sincere, as if the man would be incapable of lying. Even the stranger's silver hair seemed to have a shimmering aura under the light of the moon, not like the dull, lifeless strands on that ragged pirate fellow.

And just like the other unfortunate souls he had regretfully come into contact with tonight, Hans sensed a peculiar familiarity with the man. He was handsome. And while Hans found himself unable to look away, he felt the hot spark of irritation flare up inside him.

'I hate you.'

"I saw what happened. I can get you guys out of here. I know you're probably wondering who the hell I am, but we don't have much time to sit around chatting. I don't think I have to tell you something weird is going on in this place. I can get you all out of here and to a place you can safely rest."

The man spoke hurriedly and Hans' eyes narrowed. He was right. Standing in a group here just outside the wreckage of was once the ugly windmill, they were easy prey for a concentrated force of those cultists. He looked around at who had made it outside...

The unsightly brigand with...wolf ears?

'Shame is face is so scarred.'

The foolish little girl he held in his arms.

'Beautiful, yes. But not too bright.'

The whiny servant child.

'I'm no babysitter.'

The quiet, dark haired girl.

'With a little more confidence, she could have potential.'

The brutish woman he'd started this hellish night with.

'I'll thank you later, my dowdy savior.'

And the angry looking young man with the dark hair.

'I've seen lovestruck women who were more in control of their emotions.'

...and decided that none of them were especially capable to take action. A look of disgust flashed across Hans' delicate features before he stepped toward the handsome stranger.

"I do believe I speak for everyone when I say that we are at an unfortunate loss of where to go next. We need to get out of here, and fast."

He nodded toward the man with the wolf ears.

"This man claims to have a boat docked nearby.

Hans folded his arms across his chest with slight impatience.

"Unless you have a better idea?"

The setting changes from Kirlsa to Ter'Ciel

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Caedes Risus Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght
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"What can I do, what is my choice?
How can I live if I destroy?"


Laelynn Wyght

She wanted to run. She wanted to get as far away from everyone else as possible. Where she would go, she didn't know, nor did she really care. As long as it was away, nothing else mattered. But would she be able to get away? Would those people follow her?

...How many of them were left to follow her? Had she killed some? Did they escape?

It seemed, at least, that those taken prisoner had made it out mostly unharmed. The witch, however, was not with them. Buried under the windmill, no doubt. She would have been too injured to move. Had Laelynn not destroyed the place, maybe they could have gotten her help. But now... now she was probably crushed under the rubble. While she hadn't caused the entire thing to fall, it was unlikely the remaining support would be enough to hold it up. The woman's body wouldn't be recovered until the village got around to cleaning it up, along with whoever else had been trapped. They would probably all have been caught under there if Laelynn hadn't regained control of herself, if Devlin hadn't stopped her...

Had he even realized what was going on when he pulled her to him? Did anybody know it was she who created the earthquake? She guessed not, considering none of them were shunning her or saying anything about it. It was possible they believed it was a reaction from whatever spell the witch had cast. Had Devlin, then, simply seen her distress and not realized it was her who was bringing everything down upon them all? Whether he knew it or not, he had put his life in danger to help her. The only good thing to come out of it was that he survived- unlike the other person who had once tried to help her...

That's right. Another man. A stranger. He had tried to save her that time. He had taken a knife for her. He would have survived, too, if she hadn't lost control of her powers then...

Glancing up, Laelynn saw the others walking away. They had been discussing something, but what it was she hadn't heard. Devlin was hanging back, eyes full of concern as he waited for her to follow. Before he could speak, she walked forward, trailing behind the group. It wouldn't do to run away now. She feared Devlin might come after her- he seemed to care for whatever reason- and if any of those cult members had made it out, they would surely be seeking revenge. For now her best course of action seemed to be to remain with the group until they got out of Kirlsa. As long as she kept her distance, everything would hopefully be alright.

Laelynn kept her eyes cast down as she trailed behind the others. She could hear concerned whispers as they made their way to the docks. What would people think if they knew it was her who had caused such destruction to their windmill?

Worthless.

Guilty.

Monster.

She could almost hear them calling her names as she passed, their stares boring down on her, crushing her from every angle, waiting for her to explode from the pressure.

Laelynn clenched her fists tighter (how long had they been clenched?), digging her fingernails into her palms in attempt to bring herself back to reality. Nobody was saying anything about her. They weren't focusing their gazes on her. They didn't know.

And they never would know.

After what felt like an eternity but was, in reality, only a few minutes, they had reached the docks. She glanced up as Cae brought their attention to his boat. It was certainly bigger than what one would normally call a boat, but she didn't care to question it. She filed on after the others, glancing around for some small refuge she could hide away in until she could calm down and gain better control over her thoughts. Eventually she found a small room near one end of the ship. She settled down into the corner. Knees brought up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, head rested behind her knees, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wished she'd had music with her. That always helped her calm down. Unfortunately, all her things had been left behind in the Mayor's house, and a ship wasn't exactly the kind of place to find a record player. She began playing one of her favorite songs in her head- it would be better than nothing.

'I will not bow
I will not break
I will shut the world away'


Rock was a fairly new genre of music- many found it too angry, rebellious and even violent. Laelynn, ironically, found it soothing. It helped her forget about everything else and focus her emotions into the music until she could better deal with whatever it was that was causing her stress.

'I will not fall
I will not fade
I will take your breath away'


Focusing on the lyrics and instruments playing in her mind, she gradually began to calm herself, forcing the fear and guilt threatening to overtake her back down into something more manageable. Maybe then she would be able to start learning about all the strangers she had just gotten on a ship with. Maybe then, she could face Devlin.
"What is my destiny?
Where is the reason to exist?"

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Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght
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Devlin Íobairt


They had a ship. That Caedes guy had a ship! Despite all that had happened, Devlin felt a tiny jump of excitement from inside his chest. It was as if his heart was one with the rhythm of the waves. He had never set foot on a ship before. At least not one that would soon be out to see. Back in the capital, he sometimes would be called to help the sailors unload some of their cargo for the Grayson family, but that was always when the ship was docked in the harbor. The pretty blonde lady had gone to see about getting the ship out of port. She was certainly beautiful but...there was something off about her, Devlin thought. Almost as if there was some sort of disconnection between her and her fancy, ruffled clothes.

Devlin looked around. The rest of the group was standing around on the deck of the ship. It seemed like everyone had made it out of the windmill safely. Everyone except...

'Oh no...!'

The red haired man! There had definitely been another captive in the basement of the windmill. Devlin's memory was rather foggy, but he knew with certainty that the red haired man was still there when things started going crazy. Had he not made it out? Was he crushed underneath the rubble?

Devlin's heart grew heavy and mournful over the poor soul he hadn't even really known. Still, he was among those who'd been captured by the cult. Captured by...Lord Grayson..."

'Why...?'

It was too much for him to think about right now. With a twinge of regret, Devlin pushed the thoughts from his mind, promising himself that he'd return to sort them out later.

'Huh?'

Devlin caught movement in the corner of his eye. He turned to see the maid girl walking away from the rest of the group, her long dark hair covering her face from view. He watched her round the corner and disappear from sight behind a wall.

What could she be doing? She looked...sad. Devlin's face narrowed with concern. He had only known the girl for a short time, but in his mind, it felt as if they'd been together for eons. Through hell and back, hand in hand. Something was drawing him toward her. Pushing him in her direction. Without much else for thought, he followed after her.

Rounding the corner, he walked past a few empty rooms -

'Gosh, Caedes needs more furniture in here.'

- before reaching a small, nondescript room at the far end of the ship. There, seated on the floor, was the girl. She was hugging her knees, her gaze fixed downward. For a moment, Devlin stared at her, wondering exactly what is was that kept drawing him to her. The same nagging feeling he got when he was around any of the mysterious captives. When the girl noticed his presence, he cautiously walked into the room. Silently, he took a seat on the floor beside her.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. They just stared straight ahead at the empty wall opposite them. Twice, Devlin had opened his mouth to speak but the sound diminished in his throat. Finally, on the third attempt, his words were heard.

"I'm Devlin. I know you already knew that, but...I didn't get to tell you myself."

More silence. Devlin turned his gaze toward her.

"Can you...tell me your name, please?"

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Character Portrait: Devlin Íobairt Character Portrait: Laelynn Wyght
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"What can I do, what is my choice?
How can I live if I destroy?"


Laelynn Wyght

The creaking of a floorboard snapped Laelynn out of her thoughts, bringing her attention instead to a figure standing in the entryway. After a moment, she recognized it as Devlin. Had he been standing there for long? She hoped not. She remained silent as he approached and sat down beside her. Why was he sitting next to her? Hadn't he realized yet that she was dangerous? Did shoving him away mean nothing to him? Perhaps he, along with everyone else, had believed the entire earthquake was the result of the witch's spell. Perhaps he had chalked up her suddenly keeping him away to her being scared. He certainly seemed worreid. But why did he concern himself with her? She was nobody to him. The only thing that had kept them together before was a mutual fear and necessity to get away. Why did he feel the need to find her and sit beside her?

After a long, awkward silence, he finally spoke, asking for her name. Oh. She had heard his in passing, but she supposed there was no way he would have known hers. Greyson hadn't exactly been a kind man- not like the mayor had been. She wasn't even sure if Devlin had seen any more of the mayor's house than that one room he had been in when she called for him.

"Laelynn." She mumbled at first, not averting her gaze from a completely uninteresting wall. Then, realizing he probably hadn't caught what she said, she lifted her head up, looked over at him slightly and attempted to put a friendly smile on her face. "My name's Laelynn." She loosened her posture slightly, hoping it would lead him to believe that she was alright despite the fact she was anything but. "Sorry for meeting under such...unusual circumstances..." It felt sort of rude thinking about it now, that she had asked him for help when he hadn't even known her name. And yet, he'd been looking out for her throughout the whole ordeal. Devlin was far too kind- probably to a fault. He was certainly too kind to be worrying about somebody like her.

"Are we...getting ready to leave port?" She asked, not even sure where they were going or how long it would take for them to get there. The thought made her anxious, but she did her best to suppress it.

"What is my destiny?
Where is the reason to exist?"