#[Sivel -drabbles-]

[soulsxng]

@arcxnumvitae and @fatestouch replied to your post:

WHAT?!

👀👀👀

"It is not an issue of having grown tired of my position, or anything of the sort...though it would likely be a lie if I were to say that I were not feeling somewhat drained."

There's a small hum, and Sivel finally lifts his gaze from the mage pools to regard Ranadi and Alsina, who had eventually begun with a steady (albeit nervous) stream of questions. Why he had brought this up. When he had begun to think about it seriously. Would it be temporary, or permanent? Who would replace him, and what he would be doing, instead?

...What had happened to make him want to abdicate in the first place?

"I love Vasyri...I do. And I love my people just as deeply. But over these past few years, I have come to wonder if, perhaps, I have done all that I am able to for them. Vasyri deserves someone with a fresh outlook on things. Someone who does not look at potential alliances and associations that could benefit us, or end up overly focused on how things might go wrong. Someone that does not feel compelled toward the need to do things on our own, even if we do have allies, so as not to potentially open ourselves up to further threats."

"I think about my home, and I think of what I need to do so as to not fail them again. How I do not think I could stand to see any of my people suffer as they did in the past. And no matter whether I realize that or not, I am never able to shake myself from being almost as overprotective of them as I am of all of you. Of my family..."

"That makes any growth or evolution difficult, if not outright impossible. I know that, and yet...I find that, more and more, I am unable to justify the risks necessary to see much worthwhile change take place. So...while I do not necessarily believe myself to be a poor leader, I feel as though things have grown to be stagnant."

"And all of that is without mentioning the ire that so many outside of Vasyri view me with. I worry that, as long as I am Luminary, the stigma attached to myself and my deeds will continue to weigh Vasyri as a whole down, as well."

He talks through everything in a soft, even tone. It's obvious to both Ranadi and Alsina that this is something he had put a good deal of thought into, since a year or two ago, when he had commented half-jokingly about it to the pair of them.

"Besides...I miss it. How things used to be, when we were younger. Being able to go wherever we fancied at a moment's notice. Exploring and experiencing things with our claim-- something that I have never had the opportunity to do with Ania or Cyrus even once. It feels like, by becoming Luminary, I somehow came to believe that I had to give up so much of myself that, even in my earlier years of ruling, I would never have imagined doing. As if I gave up a part of my culture, pieces of who I am, moments with my loved ones...I look at the person I have become on occasion, and oftentimes, I do not like what I see. What I turned myself into, simply because I thought it was for the best of everyone involved. Because I thought that people would be more impressed, or more intimidated."

"...I do not intend to leave Vasyri forever, nor is this something I intend to rush. I want to be sure that whoever I pass this title onto, they are going to be the right fit. I still want to be around here and there to offer my support and assistance, and to teach people where I can-- both the new Luminary, and whoever else may want to learn from me. And when I'm not doing that, I think I would like to start by going along with Ania, Cyrus, and Sivan on one of their expeditions. After that, maybe I will take them on a trip to some of the spots that mother and father used to bring us when we were younger, with Naya and Nesimah...perhaps Quella. Both of you as well, if it is something you would be open to? It would hardly be the same, otherwise."

"Going back to my abdication, however. As I said, it is not something I intend to rush. I...am coming closer and closer to the conclusion that it is simply my time to take a step back, is all."

[arcxnumvitae]

"AaarrGGHH!"The sound of crashing glass echoed through the room, sleeping chambers granted to guests by the Unseelie king during their stay. The vanity mirror now sat in pieces, a metal hairbrush on the ground beside it, yet the gentry paced nearby uncaring of the mess she'd made.

The way Iomhar had perked up at his 'friend's' arrival was absurd! Who was she?! He'd said that she was only a friend, and yet watching her fiancé pick the woman up and twirl her around...! She'd thought she had her hands full already with Iomhar's infatuation with that foreign king, but another obstacle...!

With another roar of frustration, Leithe swept downwards to pick up the brush again and hurled it a second time at the mirror, knocking the remaining glass from the pane with another loud crash.

Her was hers. Hers hers hers hers hers hers hers! She'd finally gotten her hands on him just when it seemed that it would be impossible, but more and more annoyances cropped up to keep them from finally being together!

No matter. She would proceed as she always did, calmly and rationally. That 'friend' of his, and that silly Vasyrus king, none loved Iomhar as much as she did. None could cherish him like she would. She had already secured their engagement, soon everything would fall into place exactly as she wanted them to.

One day, those eyes would be fixed on her.

And only her.

[thewolfisawake]

So, Balmoral has that 'd/sney princess' in him that he can talk to something that really should not be able to talk to him. In this case, it is bugs. Although, following his penchant, moths are the most common. There are some that Balmoral keeps around as some semblance of 'pets' but they more serve as a different sort of communication.

These moths are technically regular moths but have been steeped with Balmoral's magic that they are certainly stronger and have a few quirks that are not normal. Their life span for one since they have been alive for centuries (though Bal has certainly lost some through his centuries and legit gets bummed when he loses one). The communicator thing probably being the biggest. This originally stemmed from them being bonded with Bal so they could correspond to him not vice versa. But he decided to try and figure out the reverse. And they can serve as conduits for him although it does risk them.

I do have a few that do have names and the like:

Coorie: First mentioned with Sivel but quickly became my favorite. She's really lazy and a cuddlebug, thus her name, and most likely to be hiding in Bal's hair or clothes. She's based off the silk moth (so she's basically all white) but is odd because she is not domesticated, thus she can actually fly.

Valiant: First mentioned in the drabbles of Mhoirbheinn's reaction to Bal's disappearance. They're, unsurprisingly, very brave. Mainly noted as one of the few moths not afraid of Mhoirbheinn. They're based on the cinnabar moth (red and black) and Bal likens them to his love. Although seemingly named for bravery, it was mainly because they survived a battle that would've eviscerated any other.

Thistle: Mentioned in Solanine's bio. The name was more arbitrary than others but it is stalwart in its endeavors. They're based on the erebid moth (brown but can have blue and purple coloring under some lighting). Generally more chill and one of the longest lived ones.

[cxrsedland]

ϚìѵҽӀӀҽ էąց ժմʍք

[arcxnumvitae]

The sound reached his ears before the sight did, an uneasy rumble. Mhoirbheinn could sense the feeling in the air without even needing to see the expressions of the small crowd ahead. After all, he had felt it enough during his time in the militia. Panic. The discord that came from a rudderless ship, one without a leader.

Rounding the corner, Mhoirbheinn's gaze landed on several of Bal's guards, huddled together and speaking in strained whispers. It was obvious they didn't wish to be overheard, yet a single phrase reached the man's ears.

"The king has vanished. Quick, round up--"

However, one of the guards caught sight of him beyond their compatriot's shoulder, and all froze instantly. And for good reason, Mhoirbheinn was on then in an instant, his glower deadly and a hand balling into the fabric of one's tunic to yank them closer.

"The king is what?"

---------------

Vanished into thin air. Solanine had reported, in the brief, panicked moment that Mhoirbheinn had spoken with her, that Balmoral had been speaking with a foreign dignitary, and then later had-- vanished. According to her, it had happened so quickly that there was no chance for some faction to have spirited him out of the castle, yet he was nowhere to be found within it. Mhoirbheinn himself had had little opportunity to see, let alone speak with Bal that day, and now he was simply-- gone. Gone. Gone gone gone gonegonegone--

The familiar scent of Bal surrounded him as he paced through his room. It was the first place he rushed to when he felt his grip crumbling, and yet it offered little comfort. How long had it been since Bal vanished? Fingertips brushed over his eye patch as if willing Bal to establish a connection between them to give some hint as to where he might have gone. Yet nothing revealed itself to him. What did that mean then, if Bal was somewhere unknown but wasn't showing anything to him? Was he meant to simply sit there and wait for word--

The thought seized his heart in a panic. No, he couldn't wait, he couldn't. Waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting for someone to come home, waiting for someone who would never come home.

Mhoirbheinn's breaths came in quick pants, desperate to suck in whatever air he could to fill his surely collapsing lungs, yet it was never enough. His heart raced almost painfully in his chest, a shaking hand gripping over it as the wall met his back with a harsh thud.

Laughter, soft and cruel, echoed in his ears when the man fell to the ground below, trembling. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the body, still, silent, blankly staring at him. The hair was as black as night one moment and a familiar twilight blue the next. Ever shifting, and Mhoirbheinn was too afraid to look at it properly to determine which one it might be.

He didn't know how long he stayed in Bal's room, trembling and terrified of the phantom corpse watching him from the edge of his vision.

[arcxnumvitae]

Sometime later

“You summoned me?” Iomhar stepped into throne room, the space nearly empty save for him and the king for likely the first time that week. The throne sat empty as the king stood off to the side, eyes upwards and watching the night sky through a distant window set up above. 

The last time he had been here was for his punishment for killing Lord Arasgain. He still remembered the sound of the whip cutting through the air, and the agony as it dug through his back. The blood he’d shed had long since been cleaned, or possibly absorbed into the dirt itself, but still the fae couldn’t help from eyeing the spot as he passed.

The king didn’t respond, his face impassive and stony as he turned towards him. There was no warning, no twitch of muscle nor flicker of intent in the man’s face that could have alerted him before a whip was suddenly zinging through the air towards him. An image of another whip moving towards him, one tipped with iron and wielded mercilessly, ran through Iomhar’s head and his body moved automatically, arms raising to shield himself from the attack. 

It was when the woody material of the whip wrapped around his forearm without the expected bite of iron that the realization struck Iomhar, but it was too late. The enchantment in the king’s weapon sank in, Iomhar grunting as he could already feel the compulsion of it working against his will through the whip wrapped around unyielding stone skin.

King Camhlaidh’s voice was emotionless. “Tell me everything that you know of Sivel’s past and his actions.”

Sinking to his knees, Iomhar fought the magic that seemed to set into his veins and hook into his very being, threatening to claw the truth from him if he allowed it even an inch of opportunity. Iomhar grunted as he was already fighting to catch his breath. “I...will not.” 

“You will, it is an order.” The king growled as he strode closer without an ounce of concern for the way the fae strained. “It will do nothing but cause you harm the further you attempt to fight it.”

“I had already told you,” Iomhar strained, “that Sivel was no threat.” Muscles bulged with effort, the man so focused on fighting the effects of the royal family’s relic that he didn’t notice the king had fully closed the distance between them until a hand had fisted in his shirt, drawing him upwards to meet the other’s enraged gaze.

“No threat? Even now you believe that? I had asked you once already! Had I not been kept in the dark, I could have properly prepared, properly anticipated, and properly avoided what occurred.” Of course, he was talking about what had happened with...

The moss and plants around them began to brown in a circle that spread as the king’s anger seemed to grow. “I am far past taking you at your word regarding the king of Vasyri, Lord Mèinnearach. You are not the king of Seelie. You are not the one tasked with the governance of this land. Do not underestimate that I will do anything that I must for those under my protection.”

The hand holding the handle of the whip tightened and Iomhar felt the pull of the magic grow stronger, yet still he fought. Until a beat of dizziness surged through him body and the gentry could feel a trickle of what was undoubtedly silvery, cool blood seeping from his nose. His vision blurred, thoughts growing fuzzy, and it was in that unguarded moment that the man felt his mouth open.

And he told the king everything.

Every story, every deed, every detail of what Sivel had told him in confidence he shared with the king. It wasn’t until he had shared every last thing he had learned of Sivel that the whip fell away from his arm and the king’s hold released him, allowing him to fall against the now withered plants below that made up the floor with a gasp of relief.

"Your allegiances are tangled, and I have learned now of the dangers in allowing such encumbrances to go unchecked.” Still fighting to catch his breath, Iomhar watched from his place on the ground as Camhlaidh turned his back, voice stony. “If you truly believe that your lover is no threat and will never be a threat, then prove it. Swear fealty to me and show me that I will never have anything to fear.”

Swear fealty? Only the king’s personal guards were required to swear fealty to him, it was a point that had long existed throughout the history of Seelie that no gentry nor Council member would have it required of them, something the predecessors had fought for. To swear fealty would mean he could never act in any way against the king and the king could command him as he wished. It was the ultimate act of loyalty that a fae could give aside from sharing their true name. 

Iomhar’s jaw set, and he pushed himself up to kneel on one knee, gazing up at his king with a mix of anger and resolute determination. 

It was beneath the moonlight that the lord swore fealty to his king.

[arcxnumvitae]

Another meeting concluded, Council members slowly began to filter out of the door. Some still lingered at the other end of the room to chat with each other, and Iomhar approached the king. Camhlaidh had seemed distracted during the meeting, like he had somewhere else he would rather be and would be unable to focus until he was there. Seòras had also obviously noted the king's agitation by the way his own gaze had lingered.

Iomhar was unsure what could be the cause of the king's odd mood and thought to lighten it with a clap of his hand to the other's shoulder.

"That human settlement of yours certainly is coming along. The work is never easy, but I am certain it must feel good when it ultimately pays off!"

"It is progressing rather well, all things considered," Camhlaidh responded as he gathered his papers and stood. He spoke as if he were merely going through the motions of civility and small talk, his mind clearly still elsewhere. "A break would be a nice reward, but I am certain one of those would be quite rare indeed. A king's work is never done it seems so long as they wear the crown," Camhlaidh's voice lowered to a volume only Iomhar could hear, and he chuckled. "I am rather envious of Sivel's upcoming rest if I am to be honest."

"Why would you be envious of Sivel? What rest?"

At Iomhar's question, the king froze and stared, his mouth ever so slightly agape. "You do not know that he is...?" Suddenly, his mouth snapped shut and a grimace crossed his face. The king looked as if he was automatically regretting his words, which only seemed to confirm he had just shared something that he perhaps wasn't supposed to.

"Camhlaidh." Intensity still clear even in his quiet tone, Iomhar reached for the king's arm. Yet the other slipped away before he could grasp it.

Chagrined, Camhlaidh didn't meet his eyes. "I...um...my deepest apologies." And with that, he quickly left the room.

"...Sivel...?"

[arcxnumvitae]

"A harebrained scheme, to be certain." Her father had grumbled, and it was fair for him to have misgivings. By all accounts, her family would detest Lord Mèinnearach for his actions; they should want little to do with him. The man continued, "that small fracas with his lover was unbecoming. Are you certain that you wish to tie yourself to that?"

"Him having an outsider as a lover, along with the events surrounding his punishment by King Camhlaidh, will make the other gentry wary to tie their heirs to someone so unpredictable, even with the power his family name holds. He will not be picky for options, and for us..." she smiled. "Well, the Mèinnearachs are second only to the Allanachs. I think I would prefer Lord Iomhar over Lord Ruaidhri regardless."

The grimace that came from her father was unexpected, and his face twisted unpleasantly. Likely at the thought of having to deal with Lord Iomhar quite permanently now. Still, he relented. "I will present the official offer to Lord Mèinnearach then, and I am of the belief that he will be amenable to it."

A smiled graced the young woman's lips. "Perfect."

Now as for that lover... She had seen the way the two interacted earlier. Even in anger, their care for each other was clear. She had caught the way that the foreign king looked at Lord Mèinnearach as he left. So that was the one that the lord had suffered the whipping for?

Interesting.

[arcxnumvitae]

‘Do not underestimate that I will do anything that I must for those under my protection.’...? 

Hadn’t he heard a similar sentiment from Sivel in much the same vein? The transgressions one would commit under the weight of kinghood...

[soulsxng]

"...First of all, I would know who you are, and where you are from. Why you were in Vasyri at the time of the attack, as well. Once that is out of the way, you may share with me whatever it was you requested my presence for."

When Sivel had first entered the room, the being laid in bed looked surprised to see him. Relieved, it seemed, though confused as to why he was there.

It took a bit of time to explain who he was, but once that had been done, he was met with a laugh. A quip about how of all people to be saved by, it was the one that she had been trying to find in the first place. Which had left the pair here.

"My name is Sahrin, Your Majesty-- or should I address you as Luminary?" The ruler's head shakes, and he waves a hand as if to say that he had no preference either way, so she continues on. "Then, I'll just call you by your name...it's less nerve wracking, that way. My name is Sahrin. It's a pleasure to officially meet you, Sivel. I'm a nephilim, originally from the Zental Port in Gaea, the mortal realm, and like I said before, I came here to find you. To warn you, more specifically...though I feel like I was a little late with that..."

"Originally from Zental Port?"

"Mmhm. I was abducted from there some time ago, by a group that called themselves Ma'ilach. We were held somewhere just outside of Wilacri. Recently, I managed to get away, but...I heard a lot of things during my time there. Plans that they were making."

Ma'ilach (Or, 'Dragon's Eye', as it could be roughly translated to from Wilacrian) was a well known, and long standing group that once (and arguably still to this day, though that was primarily speculation and rumor) had the single largest hold on the interrealm's black markets. Smugglers and traffickers, able to get their hands on anything and everything...for the right price, of course. There was a long while that they were even known for their experimentations on all different species, with their research being used for the development of a great many horrendous inventions and concoctions.

It was a group once run by someone that Sivel had been acquainted with for some time now...Helai. A dragon whom, from what he had told Sivel, not only stepped down as the group's head, but disbanded it altogether. That had been at the time when Wilacri's current ruling body all but single-handedly destroyed the entirety of the black market's existence in the realm.

"It was my understanding that Ma'ilach ceased to exist some few hundred-- or even thousand-- years ago, now." Sivel began, only to stiffen before he could ask Sahrin for some kind of proof. His gaze grew distant, and mouth fell open slightly as if to gasp.

Gasp, ragged and sharp, as he'd felt Iomhar do. But he managed to hold back.

As though he were in excruciating pain, soon every one of Iomhar's breaths that the Vasyrus could feel against his own chest burned. He was screaming. He was hurting. Being hurt.

His air was coming short, searing, and it took everything Sivel had in him to keep from rushing back to Seelie. Alsina was there. Alsina was with Iomhar, and she could keep her cool much better than Sivel in a situation like this. Being close to Iomhar now would only make things worse for him.

"--el? Sivel!"

Sahrin was out of bed now, and at the king's side, but he didn't seem to notice it at first. It wasn't until he felt a few taps on the chair he was seated on that he seemed to come to his senses enough to finally look at her.

"Oh! Oh, you're alright! Thank the gods, I thought for a moment that I would have to call for the healers to help you. You scared me!"

"It was...it was nothing, please return to your bed. I apologize for startling you so suddenly. I was being...called by one of my advisors about something rather serious, so we will need to hurry this along. What did you say?"

"I was only going to show you the mark that they put on me...I had always heard Ma'ilach had dispersed as well, and though these people could have just taken up the name...I don't know. I'm only telling you what I heard in my time there. The specifics are something I think you would be better suited to looking into, than I would be."

Gritting his teeth through the distraction, Sivel took in the marking that seemed to have been branded around Sahrin's wrist. It was something he recognized from having seen on Helai a handful of times, as well. Nearly identical, even in the layout of the runes embedded in the skin to prevent it the mark from fading away with the original wound.

...He would have to meet with the dragon, later. After this, and after he saw Iomhar again.

At least now, he could contact Ranadi to give him a more specific criteria for his search.

"The things you heard while you were trapped by them...I assume that is what you wished to speak with me about?" She nods in response to the king's question, and he motions for her to go on. Iomhar's breathing had returned to normal by now, but it was so sudden...he must have lost consciousness. Sivel's hands were clenched so tightly in his lap that he couldn't hide how it made them tremble...though at the very least, he was able to keep his wings from reverberating in the frantic rhythm that they so wanted to. "...Go on, then. You have my attention."

Or as much of it as possible, given the circumstances.

[soulsxng]

The moment, Sivel assumed, that Iomhar entered the room where the meeting was taking place, he could feel the fae's breathing quicken ever so slightly. ...Of course. Two steps in, and he was already agitated, no doubt.

"Stubborn fool..."

The king thought to sit-- it was likely that he would be in this room for some time, after all-- but found himself pacing, instead. Wings moving in a whir at his back to further display his aggravation and anxiety toward the situation.

To say that it was frustrating, not knowing what was being said in that room, was an understatement. To not have the chance to defend himself or Iomhar, and instead left to stew in this lavish room that still somehow managed to make the king feel trapped.

He should be in there, as well. If the fae's dealings were intended to be in equals, then Sivel should be there beside Iomhar.

"It is a matter of the Seelie, now. You did nothing outside of being present for that sorry bastard's nonsense, and if you try to force yourself into matters, it will only serve to complicate things." Is what Alsina had said before he and Iomhar had departed for the castle. Meant to dissuade him from doing anything that may inadvertently make things worse for Iomhar.

And yet, all that seemed to stick in his head was "You did nothing".

It was the truth-- he had been so taken aback by what the former Lord Arasgain had said to him, that he had been rendered speechless for a moment. So much so that he had even recoiled somewhat when hit with a particularly strong wave of disgust and discomfort that came with the gentry reaching forward to grab Sivel's braid. Likely as he had seen Vasyri's ruler leaning in to happily welcome from Iomhar a few times prior.

Before he could actually make contact, Iomhar had moved in to stop him. And instead of straightening up and giving the offending noble what for, as Sivel typically would, he instead found himself unsettled, and shifting slightly behind Iomhar.

"Just get rid of him already, please...!"

Sivel hadn't intended to encourage Iomhar to kill him, though he didn't regret the death itself. In fact, if Iomhar hadn't acted, Sivel himself would have been the one to raise a hand to the former gentry...and perhaps he should have, if it spared Iomhar from punishment.

"Creation...just let this meeting end quickly."

[arcxnumvitae]

“You summoned me?” The doors to the king’s office shut behind him and Iomhar stood at the entrance of the room, curious. For once, the king was not seated at his desk. Instead, he stood by the large windows behind it, staring out into the green expanse outside of the palace in a way that made Iomhar think he would much rather be out there than in here, burdened by the daily requirements and duties of ruling. In that moment, with his distant expression fixed beyond, King Camhlaidh looked much like one of the wandering fae, and the other lord wondered if such a life may suit him better.

At his entrance, Camhlaidh pulled his gaze from the window, turning his red and gold eyes to the other. “I did. I owe you an apology, Iomhar.” The surprise on his own face must have been evident, but Camhlaidh continued before he could interrupt. “You have done nothing to earn my mistrust, yet I mistrusted you anyways. I used you as a pawn in my suspicions of Sivel, and in my desire to protect my subjects as king, I used you as a callous and thoughtless ruler would. I felt alone in my concerns about Sivel, and in that I grew frustrated and acted in ways that put you in difficult situations. For that, for all of it, I am deeply sorry. ”

“It is water under the bridge, for me at least.” Iomhar’s arms folded before him. “In truth, I do not know why you made such a song and dance of this.” That pulled a weak laugh from the other, and Camhlaidh shook his head with quiet disbelief.

“You would forgive me that easily...?” He looked as if he did not believe that he deserved it. “Either way, I also release you from your oath of fealty as well.” The words relieving him of the oath binding him reverberated power through the air, and a shift was felt along his skin, like the lifting of a thin gossamer cloth. Iomhar glanced down at his arms as if he would be able to see the oath that bound him falling away.

“You are in a difficult position, Camhlaidh, and I do not envy it to find the weight of the land now resting on your shoulders. You make decisions that I do not agree with, but, as I said in the Council room, I do believe that you are ultimately a good man.” A stone hand came to rest over his heart, reminiscent of a salute. “Though the Council has always been fraught with power struggles and agendas, my position as Lord Mèinnearach is still, as it always has been, to support you, my king. You need only ask...as has always been the case.”

Camhlaidh’s head tilted forward, the light in the room glinting off his diadem. “Thank you, Iomhar.”

[arcxnumvitae]

The already busy bustle of the palace had grown in the last few days with preparations. No doubt Ruaidhri, the king, and the rest of the palace staff were busy ensuring that every last detail was perfectly in place. Iomhar would have preferred to stay out of the way entirely, but he had business with the king that he wished to be done with as soon as possible. 

He pulled King Camhlaidh away from growing a trail of pink, sweet-smelling flowers down a wall he knew no others could grow and control the plant life of Seelie save for the king and princess, but it felt...off to see their ruler engaged in menial labor but he was fairly certain that Ruaidhri had something to do with it. Dusting his hands off, Camhlaidh gestured them into a quieter corner, one that diminished the risk of eavesdroppers.

“I assume you have something to report?” Camhlaidh gazed up at him.

“I did not use the pollen.” Annoyingly, the other did not seem surprised by that. “But I spoke with him. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Really?” The pregnant pause preceding the single word spoke volumes. “I suppose you do not plan on elaborating? Or perhaps, then, shedding some light on the rumors?”

What Sivel had shared with him was done in confidence. He had trusted him and the man did not plan to betray that trust by running straight to his king. If Camhlaidh wished to learn the story, then it would have to be from lips other than his own. “No, I do not plan to.” 

A muscle in the ruler’s jaw jumped, a rare sign of agitation. “Iomhar, you are aware of the position that Seelie is in, correct? We are playing a game of catch up surrounded on all sides by possible enemies. Even if you may think it absolves your lover, whatever information you have learned could be incredibly useful, or be what makes a difference in the future. You cannot act as if you are not biased--”

“I will not do it.” Iomhar’s voice was resolute, a finality. 

A slash of anger flared across the other fae’s face, a startling sight on a visage usually so poised. Iomhar was almost certain he could see movement in the walls around them, a writhing of the branches and vines that made it up poised to attack. He tensed, but the moment soon passed and the walls settled once more, though the king’s glare still remained.

“You forget which of us is king. Leave. Now.”

With a bow, and, for once, silent, Iomhar did just that.

[soulsxng]

"So let me get this straight..." JJ watches his father sigh, hands raking back through dark hair with a crease between his brows that told of the stress rising in the Ahnian king's body.

"People have somehow been corrupted by a Creationary Being that isn't one of you three, because that would be impossible." Jaspern pauses, gesturing to Ippuru, Sayek, and Nuro. Turning to nod at Siffo as he began to speak again. "But also wasn't you, who is supposedly the only other Creationary Being in this existence. Something that, again, you three say you can guarantee, because...you would be able to sense any others the moment they got in."

"Your sarcasm and lack of respect toward Us, as always, forces me to question why We have not taken your tongue yet, Lierik. Though your words irritate me, they are the truth. The Creationary Being that is doing this is a rather cunning one, and would appear to have taken no small amount of their own remaining energy-- as well as a large amount of energy gathered by one of Our creations without our knowledge-- to force a crack in the same area of Zhrun that Siffo was allowed entrance via by your careless actions, Ber."

The holder of Nuro's core rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest with an indignant huff. Notably to JJ though, he doesn't retort. Maybe the seriousness of the situation, and the worry after his father, Lerato, is enough to have him holding back any of his usual sharp remarks.

"While this means they will not have nearly the amount of energy that Siffo does to sustain themselves with, it does mean that, while their form has yet to garner entrance to this existence, they have gained themselves a manner in which to alter it. Their objective, judging by their aggressiveness, We have determined to be wresting this existence from Us."

There's a long silence, as everyone let Ippuru's words sink in. It seemed that many of them-- JJ included-- were thinking similar, but it was Sivel that was first to voice the concern.

"I take that to mean the restoration done to the veil Siffo broke through was ongoing? Or would it be safer to work under the assumption that said area will always be lacking, now that it has been torn through once? If that is the case, then what are the chances that we will soon have more than Siffo and this unknown Creationary Being to contend with, as well? To have this issue so soon after the first, the now thinned nature of the veil there would seem to be rather apparent to those Creationary Beings that have been displaced from their own existences."

"...The likelihood of that's pretty high." Siffo replied, when Ippuru, Sayek, and Nuro looked to them. "When I was wandering out there, my energy faded fast, but even with that, and the veil between there and this existence in a normal state, it was still strong enough that I could feel it when I got close enough. It being thinner now might mean that what was once more a solid wall is now closer to...well, like you've been calling it. A veil. A solid one, but still easier to find than it would have been otherwise."

[arcxnumvitae]

“The king had you whipped? I didn’t even know he had that in him!” Eilidh’s eyes flashed towards Iomhar’s back, carefully wrapped in bandages, then back again. “Are there scars? Can I see!”

“Is this how you normally come to call on the injured?”

“Injured my ass, I bet you were up and moving the very next day!”

Clearly she wasn’t present for the punishment. Iomhar turned his attention to the one who sat in the chair beside her. “And you, you are awfully quiet! What, in awe of my magnificence at having taken seventy-five lashes and living to tell the tale?”

Ruaidhri scoffed. “Oh hardly.” Seventy-five lashes with an iron-tipped whip is what he had heard, an insane punishment. To tell the truth, he was wondering how Iomhar was even able to host them in his sitting room as it was. There was still a tell-tale twinge of pain the man tried to mask every time he moved in a way that tugged at them. Injuries like that should have kept him bedridden for weeks, but he supposed that had something to do with the odd visitors he heard had crashed the party.

It bothered him though. His father had been at that meeting. Had he been the one to suggest that punishment to the king? Why had Camhlaidh gone along with it to begin with?

“Here, Eilidh, come help me remove these bandages and you can look for yourself!”

“Okay!”

Oh dear...

[soulsxng]

After a day of arguing, scrambling about in a frantic rush to discern what exactly was suddenly going on across the realms, a disturbing conclusion had finally been reached. It didn't take long after that for the Creationary Trio to determine that a meeting should be held, so as to decide what should be done next...which is what ultimately led to the gathering that was currently taking place.

Ippuru, Sayek, and Nuro. The Creationary Trio themselves. Where the former two had been around since the beginning, Nuro's body was but another construct of theirs. One using the remnants of their former counterpart, Benion. Where once the three had been at odds, they've since seemed to grow used to each other. To working together.

Siffo, the Unknown. Though those in attendance today knew were among the few that knew their true identity as a member of another existence's creationary set, most simply believed them to be similar to Nuro. Another creation of Ippuru and Sayek's, that incorporated some piece of their former trio member. The Trio had been teaching and including them in various things lately, so while it wasn't necessarily a surprise that they were there, they seemed somewhat unsettled. More-so than the three, at the very least.

Quella, Kikei, and Nubeas. Three of the four "Pillars of Creation", otherwise known by the names Nereius, Lassis, Bralis, and Innaius, respectively. They are beings tasked with upkeeping some of the most major aspects of existence; life (Utzil, the Lifestream), death (Zhrun, the Void), magic and the elements, and lastly, time and fate. JJ didn't know why Lerato wasn't in attendance, but it was for that reason that his own father was-- as well as the other leaders from the original realm, Brinnela.

Jaspern, King of Ahnia, and Speaker of Innaius.

Fekik and Kamiiaria, Overseer of Setia, and Speaker of Lassis, respectively.

Sivel, Vasyri's Luminary, and Speaker of Nereius. (Though rumor said that the latter title was likely to soon be passed to he and Quella's daughter, Ania, instead. JJ wasn't sure how much truth there was to it yet.)

Netherin, Kadios, and Adikae, three of the foremost Pack Leaders of the Aifaen, with Netherin being the Speaker of Bralis.

And then there was the group that JJ fell into.

Himself, his sister Tiiaria, and Lerato's son, Ber. The holders (or perhaps thieves would be more appropriate in he and Tiiaria's case) of Creation's cores. Aside from being made immortal, and being able to use some small portion of Creationary energy, it didn't mean much for them. But to the Trio, it meant that they had a sort of check and balance system. After all, destroying a Creationary Being's core seemed to be the only way to actually kill them (Which is what JJ and Aria had originally stolen them for in the first place, now that he thought about it. How times changed.). Any other method led to little more than a short-lived stasis.

The group was quiet for a long time-- most of them hardly even speaking amongst their own respective groups, let alone to anyone else. Once it had become evident that the Trio and Siffo were the only ones that were aware of what was going on, everyone had more or less fallen into an expectant silence. Waiting patiently for everyone to arrive, so they could finally learn what in existence was going on.

A short while passed, and eventually the last of them (surprisingly enough, Sivel, who was usually among the first to arrive when Creation summoned him) appeared. Multicolored eyes taking a quiet moment to survey the others in attendance, before turning to regard the Trio.

"So everyone was called, I see. It must be something rather pressing, if that is the case. I assume we are waiting for Lerato, before we begin?"

"No. As the situation originated with him...with Zhrun, he assisted Us in our recognition of the problem which resulted in Our summoning of you. Because We are trying to prevent it from growing any further, we opted not to include him today...and for the time being, he should not be approached by any of you, for any reason. The same could be said for Zhrun, as well as the outer branches of the Void."

The ripple of murmurs following that information didn't last long. Though it was, in part, to avoid gaining any unnecessary ire from the Trio, it was even more-so because they wanted Ippuru to go on.

"With that being said...We would prefer that this be explained sooner, rather than later, so that We may see the situation better controlled, studied, and monitored. Listen well, for We will not be pleased in the event that We must repeat Ourselves a second time."