#and making magic users who know this kind of magic scarce on the ground

[theladyragnell]

Magic Item Homebrew for D&D

I am running a bit of a campaign for my friends and this was my favorite bit of homebrew, so I thought I would share!

Are you running a game in a high-magic setting? Do you want to give your players gear that’s thematic and fun and requires time, effort, and sacrifice instead of getting a bunch of money together?

Send your players on a treasure hunt!

It works like this:

There are lists of, for lack of a better word, ingredients, which when combined with a sizeable push of magic (I’d recommend minimum a 4th or 5th level spell for a fairly low-level magic item), create a magic item themed around the ingredients. Different practitioners of this method can have different lists of ingredients, and while players can’t pick exactly the item they get like they might in a store, the items they pick give you themes to play off of.

For instance, I sent my players seeking:

Something newly made

Something taken without let

Something no mortal hands have ever touched

Something that presents danger to acquire

Something that is a sacrifice to give up

And then we had an episode where they ran around looking for those things that could have gone into two episodes or more if we’d been doing higher level play and higher level magic items!

My rule was that the more impressive and the more closely an item fit the category, the more powerful the item would be, and the item is themed around the category that they shone in most. Optionally, you can have them toss in a “base” (e.g. a piece of armor or a sword) if they specifically want one kind of item, or they can see what chance gives them.

Ex. the paladin came back with a newly handmade beaded shawl, a deconsecrated holy symbol of a god not theirs, a crow’s tailfeather, a giant eagle’s wingfeather, and a mosaic tile necklace given to him by his sister. From that, I got an amulet (made of the necklace, because that was the item that meant the most) that once a day can cast Feather Fall in a sphere around the bearer and that protects them from non-magical cold.

If this is something your table would enjoy, I hope you give it a try, and feel free to say what items you come up with in the notes!

[cerises-amoureuses]

Firstly, what we need to realise is that Harry was incredibly attracted to Ginny throughout HBP, to the stage where seeing Ginny kiss another boy drove him up the wall. He spent a better part of the year wrestling with his emotions, which is something he didn’t go through with Cho Chang. Of course, this could be because Ginny, being Ron’s little sister, posed an interesting dilemma, but also because Harry’s feelings extended beyond a simple crush. The easiest way to deduct this is to go back to Harry’s infamous first kiss: he did not enjoy it, nor did he express any sort of desire to do it again. But in Ginny’s case, he had barely worked out his feelings for her when he started envisioning himself kissing her. Harry only ever thought Cho was nice-looking, but he experienced a very typical, boyish sort of lust and want when it came to Ginny.

“She began popping up in his dreams in ways that made his devoutly thankful Ron could not perform legilimency.” – Harry, HBP.

It does not take a genius to figure out exactly what he and Ginny were doing in Harry’s dreams. This inneuendo is remarkably suggestive; Harry had begun having sexual, inappropriate dreams about his best friend’s little sister that made him feel guilty and embarrassed. Moreover, note the instances when Ginny and Harry came in contact; they were often punctuated with Harry either feeling a “swooping sensation” or getting so tense that goosebumps erupted on the back of his neck. There is no evidence of Harry ever feeling jumpy by a girl’s slight touch before, which begs the question why it flustered him so physically in the first place. All evidences point to the thick sexual tension that Harry was feeling between himself and Ginny.

Simply put, Harry’s attraction to Ginny had permeated the boundaries of innocent crushes and gone straight to lustful thoughts and wild dreams.

“… He had received a lot more Bludger injuries during practice because he had not been keeping his eyes on the Snitch .. “ - Harry, HBP.

There is little room for argument for one trying to say that Harry was admiring Ginny in all innocence from a broomstick suspended in midair. This is another not-so subtle allusion to Harry’s burgeoning sexual attraction. Being a sixteen-year old boy, it is fairly plausible that Harry was being highly inappropriate, possibly undressing Ginny with his eyes, and he needed the force of a Bludger to snap him out of it. It is ridiculous to insinuate that Harry wasn’t looking a little intently than he ought to at Ginny; how else could he have ignored a Bludger speeding at him?

Quite apart from the fact that Harry described his impromptu mid-common room snog with Ginny in a remarkably heavenly fashion, he also explicitly went on to say that if they had time, they would talk about the Quidditch match. This does not specifically point to anything too scandalous, but it does make very clear that Harry intended on taking Ginny to a deserted area for more kissing. This seems a terribly bold step for two people who haven’t even started dating yet. It speaks a lot about their relationship that they started things off with a good, (presumably) lengthy snog, and jumped headlong into the opportunity to snog some more. It insinuates that the two were already very comfortable with each other, and already moving very fast in their relationship.

If that didn’t scream CLUE!!! enough, the next sure indicator was Harry’s feelings while they were dating. His narration was light, airy and genuinely happy – a dramatic change from the teenage angst that readers had been dealing with since GOF. It might be in my imagination, but I have always thought Harry in that period to be all kinds of insufferable, walking around with a goofy grin on his face and not paying much attention to anything – that lovestruck behaviour is largely hinted at in the books,after all. Hadn’t Professor Slughorn attributed Harry’s detoriating Potions grade to “lovesickness”? This obviously meant that Harry had been displaying visible symptoms of the same, which prompted that line of reasoning. What else could make the Boy-Who-Finally-Got-A-Girlfriend “happily impervious to gossip”?

On a particularly striking instance, Harry states that he was reliving a happy moment spent with Ginny in the grounds – if it was “happy” enough for Harry to dwell on it later, what could they have been doing, one wonders? (Cough, cough). Harry expressed explicit frustration that he could no longer spend time with Ginny, and there a very choice things that would, per say, “frustrate” a sixteen-year old boy.

Perhaps it isn’t overly obvious on skimming HBP, but if one analyses Harry’s narration, as I have, it becomes laughably clear that Harry and Ginny were almost definitely being adventurous. Ginny, for her part, is described as fiery and passionate – nothing in her character suggests restraint or holding back. A war, of which Harry was a main part, was going on in full-swing outside the cosy walls of the castle. It is additionally suggestive that JK Rowling also wrote in a specific conversation where it was revealed to Harry that people often elope during times of war. Ginny herself had commented playfully on it. If taking that step as such a young age wasn’t exactly responsible, the could hardly be blamed for it.

Another compelling argument is the fact that Harry, in particular, was, for want of a better word, especially well-equipped. For goodness’ sakes, the boy owned a legitimate Invisibilty Cloak, the Marauder’s Map and was an active user of the Room of Requirement. While Harry made use of these magical items for relatively noble and innocent purposes – in a non-Voldemort dangered world, what else would students want to make themselves invisible for? Ginny, in particular, doesn’t seem the type to ignore the dual potential of items like the map and Cloak.

Lastly, the dealbreaker was the stiflingly unbearable encounters between Harry and Ginny in DH. If there was slight sexual tension in the air between them in HBP, this was magnified about a hundred times in DH. Not many people choose to dwell on this, but I invite you think for a moment – imagine being boyfriend and girlfriend scarcely two months ago, and having a blissful, perfect relationship. Now, imagine being forced to live under the same roof – two teenagers – when they were so unwillingly forced to break up. They had barely spent a month dating, only to be brutally separated, and then made to live together again? Forget Crucio, there’s nothing more torturous than that.

Every time Harry made eye-contact her, he starts to recall moments spent with Ginny in secluded parts of the grounds, which is possibly the least subtle reference in the entire franchise. Again, he experiences acute, agonising frustration, to the point where he is actively trying not to brush against her while they eat dinner – it sounds almost as if he doesn’t trust himself. Another extremely suggestive moment is when Aunt Muriel makes a comment on the scandalous, revealing quality of Ginny’s bridesmaid dress, and the latter turns around and winks at Harry.

No explanation needed.

Need I dwell on Harry’s absolutely endearing jealousy while Ginny danced with other boys at the wedding? He, quite literally, leans against a pillar, folds his arms, (presumably with a glare on his face) and stares fixedly at Ginny.

One confusing instance, however, was Ginny’s – ahem – birthday present to Harry, in which he says, “And then she was kissing him like she had never kissed him before ...” This could somewhat serve as proof that they never progressed farther than snogging, but this greatly contradicts that aforementioned alusions to the same. It also seems a little naive to assume that they were exceedingly good little children while they disappeared for hours to secluded corners and fondly dwell on those instances to the point of distraction afterwards. No, it is my belief that it had been so long since Harry kissed her that he was automatically prone to over-exaggerating their sudden reprisal.

As I come to my conclusion, a few worthy mentions – Harry’s thoughts just before Voldemort struck him in the Forbidden Forest in DH: “And Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his –“ Alas, he never completed his train of thinking, but it does leave considerable food for thought.

Therefore, one can comfortably assume that in at least one area of his life, Harry acted like any normal boy his age. He had strong, passionate feelings for Ginny, and she unquestionably felt the same about him (“I never gave up on you. Not really. I always hoped …”), and those kind of things are recipes for teenage intimacy. However, anyone clinging to childhood beliefs can also safely predict that they waited. We may never know, but the evident has always been there, just as JK Rowling intended.

What are you thinking? 🤔

[oriorchids]

SaiOuWeek | Day Three | Fantasy

Saihara meets a boy in his shop’s garden when harvesting lavender.

The Falcon’s Eye was a shop owned by Akamatsu Kaede and Saihara Shuichi. It sold potion ingredients and magical items, collected by Akamatsu’s friends, Shinguji Korekiyo and Amami Rantaro. However, on the side, The Falcon’s Eye also served a different purpose, specifically, as a place for adventurers. Different jobs of many kinds were pinned on a bulletin board on the side of the room, nearby the door. Sometimes, adventurers would take these jobs to do themselves.

This made them gain a lot of foot traffic with adventurers travelling through the city. Usually the magic-users of adventuring parties, but there was a time when a man with a large greataxe came in to stock up on potions. And who could forget the party of clerics?

Either way, whether anyone knew it or not, The Falcon’s Eye was going to change very soon. And it all started when the store ran out of stock on some of the potion ingredients.

--

“Hey, Saihara, we’ve run out of lavender!” Akamatsu had said while checking their stock. “Could you go out to get more of it?”

So here he was, harvesting the lavender from the garden in the back. Usually, lavender didn’t sell much, so they had it all in stock. However, it seemed to have vanished during the night. Strange, but the city wasn’t scarce of magic-users. Plus, he knew there was a wild mage who helped run the local tavern. And Hinata had said something about how Komaeda got lavender in their room somehow when he was ordering a cleaning spray.

Suddenly, he noticed a figure moving from the corner of his eye. Curious, he walked over to investigate. A short boy, probably a little younger than Saihara, was limping through the gardens. When the boy noticed him, he turned around and ran away. Saihara noticed a wet-looking red patch on the back of his white shirt, as well as a red stain on the ground

“Hey, wait!” Saihara said. “Come back!” He started chasing after the boy, eventually catching up to him. When he looked closer, he noticed his eyes were purple, and the boy had pointed ears. The boy seemed to have his guard up, and he was glaring at him. A few seconds later, he started speaking. It took Saihara a few seconds, but the boy wasn’t speaking Japanese.

He was speaking Sylvan.

“Stupid half-elf! Get away from me!” they said. “Ahh, whatever. It’s not like you’ll understand me anyways, with your stupid pretty eyelashes and-”

Wait, what? Oh gosh, Saihara learned Sylvan earlier...what were those words again? “Umm...what?”

“Huh?” The boy looked confused. “Wait, you can understand me..?” He looked confused for a second, before looking away. “Then go away.”

“I’d like to know why you’re in my garden first?” And also...he thought his eyelashes were pretty? What..?

“Aww...but aren’t you wondering who I am, half-elf?” The boy smirked. “Aaaaaaare you? Come on, you can’t say you aren’t curious!”

That was an obvious deflection. But...Saihara couldn’t deny that he was curious. “Then tell me. Who are you?”

The boy laughed, slightly melodic in nature. “I’m Ouma Kokichi! And I’m a fairy!”

“A fairy…then, where are your wings?”

The boy-fairy-Ouma went silent. “That’s...that’s not important!”

“Are you sure? If you need help, I’d be happy to lend you a hand.”

“...Really?”

“...Yeah, I’ll help. So, what is it?”

“Well…”

--

The wings of a fairy were a sacred thing. They allowed the fairy to change shape and kept the fairy safe from harm. The most important thing a fairy’s wings did, however, was grant them the ability to fly.

It was a massive taboo to take a fairy’s wings, if not a war crime. Anyone who took the wings of a fairy would be executed by the leader of their court. Even though fairy wings were extremely magical in nature, no one ever dared to steal them in fear of retribution.

But what happened when an exile’s wings were taken away?

--

The prince of fairies was exiled from his court after a crime was pinned on him. One that he did not commit. Either way, he was chased into the Dark Woods, with only the clothes on his back and his wings.

The first few nights were torture, but bearable. He only wanted to make it to a town, perhaps getting food and drink. Maybe he could become a warlock’s patron. Perhaps he could find a quiet life. However, he would not make it to the town unscathed.

During the night, he didn’t notice a cloaked man sneak up behind him. A knife struck his back, taking his wings away. And suddenly, the world felt darker, colder, and quieter. He got a glimpse of the man, or was it a woman; with strawberry-blonde hair and a black-and-white cloak. The woman’s familiar, who was a black-and-white bear, had pounced on the prince. A scream ran out of his mouth.

But no one came to help.

He only just managed to escape, using some of the magic he had stored to teleport himself away. He landed in a garden, tired and alone. A night passed before he could do something, anything to get someone. He noticed a jar of lavender in stock at the nearby store. Perhaps someone would come if he caused it to disappear?

The next day, a navy-haired half-elf came to the garden, searching for lavender. The prince knew he couldn’t count on him to help, but he felt the half-elf may be the hope he needed. But the prince held many doubts, and ran when he saw the boy had noticed him.

And then the boy decided to help.

--

“Hey, what’s your name, half-elf?” Ouma had asked while Saihara was bandaging his wounds.

“Saihara Shuichi.”

“You weren’t supposed to answer,” Ouma said. “Don’t you know what happens when a fairy knows your name?”

“I do.” Saihara replied. “But I trust you enough for you not to do anything with it.”

Ouma tilted his head in confusion. “You...trust me? But I’ve only known you for like, two hours.”

“I trust you.”

[alecmagnuslwb]

Bunnies

Writer’s Month Day Ten

Read on AO3

Zatanna steps through a portal directly into the kitchen. She’s starving after a night of Justice League meetings that she frankly had nothing to do with. Just because she’s a member doesn’t mean she cares if Booster Gold is misusing tech, it’s not like she’s the one paying for it.

Her top hat sits on the counter where she left it, a few of the bunnies that call the pocket dimension inside home leaping out upon her arrival. Two white rabbits settle on a book sitting on the counter that Zatanna assumes John must have left out, a little golden-brown rabbit she doesn’t remember seeing before sits beside them scratching at the pages.

Zatanna sighs shooing the rabbits off the book and closing it to prevent them from eating a vital page or accidentally enacting a curse. She pushes the book off to the side scratching each rabbit on the head fondly. Destructive little bastards they may be from time to time, but she loves the fluffy little guys.  

She walks over to the fridge the golden-brown bunny who must be new hopping along beside her as far as it can go without slipping off the counter.

She leans in looking at her fairly scarce fridge, reminding herself to tell John that cigarettes and whiskey don’t qualify as groceries. She sighs grabbing the container of leftover Thai takeout from the bottom shelf and settling on it for her dinner. She sits it on the counter turning to grab a fork, because she’s too tired for chopsticks right now, when the golden-brown bunny knocks it over with his nose.

She turns and frowns at the precious Thai food spilling all over the counter each piece of rice getting tangled up in bunny hair.

“No, don’t do that,” she whines picking the container up and pointing the fork at the bunny. There’s very little left to salvage and definitely not enough to constitute a meal.

“Nealc siht pu,” she says waving her hand at the mess, sadly watching her food disappear.

The bunny just wiggles its nose at her hopping over to the plant sitting on the edge of the counter pushing at it. Zatanna sighs abandoning her quest for food in favor of stopping this destructive bunny and putting it back in the hat where it belongs before it wrecks her kitchen.

She walks over to it about to pick it up as it turns, about to nibble at her vase of lavender and lilac when she spots the pack of cigarettes lying beside it. She watches for a moment as the bunny pushes the vase away just a little and starts nibbling at the pack, not the plant as expected.

That’s when she realizes the unrecognizable bunny actually seems so familiar, from its behavior to its sandy color. It isn’t trying to eat her plants it’s trying to open John’s pack of cigarettes. Her eyes fall to the book she moved earlier the title in Latin she translates quickly. Transfiguration and the art of familiars.

Oh, shit.

She gets closer to the bunny that has now successfully pulled a cigarette from the pack, looking it in the eyes.

“John?” she whispers and the bunny perks up its head wiggling its nose in her direction. Zatanna goes wide eyed picking the bunny up and holding eye contact with it, John’s blue eyes staring right back at her. She can’t believe her boyfriend turned himself into a fucking bunny.

She’d love to know the why here, but seeing as his only forms of communication are currently wiggling his nose and trying to smoke she doesn’t suspect she’ll be getting any answers from bunny Constantine.

She looks at her fridge longingly before tucking John the bunny under her arm. She picks up the other lingering bunnies and places them back in her hat, for a second she considers dropping John in there as well if for no other reason to teach him some kind of lesson for as long as it takes her to scrounge up some sort of dinner.

Ultimately though she decides it’s best to turn him back as quickly as possible, even though it would be fun to drop him in a pocket dimension for a while.

“I can’t believe you turned yourself into a rabbit and you still want to smoke,” she says sitting him back down on the counter far from the pack of smokes. She pulls the book back over sitting heavily into the stool nearest to her and begins flipping through the pages searching to find the page it’d been left open on assuming that’s the culprit responsible for this situation.

Bunny John just wiggles his nose poking her in the hand with the cigarette still clenched between his teeth.

“I’m not lighting that for you,” she scowls as she flips through the book scanning every page. “Who knows what one cigarette could do to a rabbit’s body.”

He looks so extremely put upon, a look that on a bunny looks absolutely adorable and hilarious. Zatanna can’t help but giggle at him as he drops the cigarette from his mouth. She’s certain if he could cross his arms in frustration right now he would.

“Yeah, well you’re not the only one frustrated at the moment,” she says poking him in the side.

Eventually John hops over putting his two tiny paws, that now that she’s paying closer attention she sees are painted black just like his nails would be, on a page stopping her flipping.

She scans the page reading the details of what exactly John did that lead to this.

“So you really thought this was a good idea, all over some poker game, huh?” she says after reading the page. He’s been obsessing over another magic user who has a familiar that happens to be a rabbit.  According to John the man owes him 50 quid from a poker game eight years ago and because he can’t just let it go he’d joked about turning into his familiar and sneaking in to get the money himself. John has lost and won back the entire House of Mystery in a poker game and let it go, but this he chooses to fixate on. “Practicing for later, but forgot you had to turn back somehow still?”

John wiggles his nose. She takes it as a yes. Why she had to fall for someone so smart, yet so pettily dumb she has no idea.

Zatanna rolls her eyes running her finger along the page to figure out what she needs to do to turn him back into a person. Off to the side in print so small she almost needs a magnifying glass to read it a list of ingredients for a potion to reverse the effects is listed.

Potion making isn’t her preferred form of magic, why bother when she has so much access and power at her fingertips, but she trudges from the kitchen to the room her father kept for the occasional potion work with John and the book cradled in her arms.

It takes almost two hours to make, John hopping all over the place while she works. She really wishes he’d thought of this and done it before embarking on an at home by himself practice run. She once again considers banishing him into her hat simply for a little peace and quiet. Hell, she might do that to human John once she gets him back.

Finally stirred and the proper color Zatanna pours a vials worth of the potion into a bowl and sits it in front of bunny John.

“Drink up dumbass,” she says pushing the bowl directly under his nose.

John dips his head down slurping up the liquid as quickly as a bunny can. Once it’s gone she watches him expectantly a ring of glowing green circles around him his bunny form slowly but surely being replaced with his human form.

Between one blink and the next a golden-brown rabbit no longer sits in front of her instead it’s John immediately slipping off the edge of the table he’d been resting on and landing on the floor.

“Ouch,” he says as he lands. He reaches into his pocket pulling out a cigarette and lighting it for himself now that he once again has opposable thumbs. “Thanks for that luv.”

Zatanna scoffs shutting the potion book in front of her and banishing the remaining mixture into tiny bottles just in case he tries this again.

“I think if I tweak it a bit I can make myself look exactly like that little black and white bloody familiar of his,” he says as he lifts himself up from the ground. Zatanna rolls her eyes so hard she’s certain they’re about to fall out of her head.

“Nope, I don’t want to hear it, I will not take part in your petty vendetta over a poker game. You turn yourself into a bunny again there’s plenty of potion to fix yourself next time,” she says gesturing to the line of bottles now on a shelf that’s just high enough he’ll have to work for them if he’s a bunny. She storms out of the room yelling her next words as she goes. “You’ll be needing that 50 quid soon enough because that’s how much I’m about to steal from your wallet so I can order dinner which I was deprived of thanks to you.”

“Oh come on Zee, it’s a matter of principle,” he shouts after her. “He’s trying to pull a fast one on me, conning me out of what’s mine.”

“Ha! Says the conman,” she shouts back.

She waves a hand as she enters the kitchen a quick incantation shutting the door and sealing it before John can follow her in as she contemplates just how she might go about shoving him in her hat for a while.

[brittysaucefanfic]

The Serpent and The Dragon

Chapter 4

(First)(Previous)(Next)(AO3)

Lance goes to the tavern by the docks where his crew frequent the most. 

It's not very late in the day, sunlight still bright and warm on his skin. Lance pushes open the door, a blast of the smell of alcohol and sweat. Lance crinkles his nose against the smell but still smiles anyways. 

"Your Captain has arrived scalawags!" Lance yells as he steps into the room. The majority of the tavern's patrons turn and cheer. Raising their glasses in a toast of merriment. Lance walks forward, not needing to weave or squeeze between people since the patrons split like the sea before a tsunami. He gets claps on the back and a lot of hellos, especially from men and women looking for a good night with the infamous McClain. 

Lance raises his hand and a pint is slipped between his fingers without a word. Lance knocks it back hard, earning cheers and high fives when he finishes the pint in seconds. 

"Oi! Captain over here!" Rolo yells through the throng of people where the majority of the crew sits around a long table. Lance strides up and doesn't stop at the table. In a swift and graceful motion he hops onto the table. 

"Hey everybody!" Lance yells, spreading his arms out wide. Hunk squeezes into a chair at the table with a huff. "Who's ready to party!?" Lance demands. Another round of cheers flows through the crowd. 

Lance holds his hand out and another pint is shoved into his hand. Lance downs that one too, and smiles as he finally starts to feel a warmth at the pit of his stomach. He hops off the table and falls backwards into a chair. 

"So what's the agenda Captain?" One of the crew asks. 

"Well. After we complete what we originally set out for, we'll be hunting an old acquaintance of us all." Lance says. Confused looks are shared across the table. 

"Who would that be?" Rolo asks. Lance smiles wickedly. 

"Who wants revenge on the Dragon?" Lance asks. It's quiet, or at least as quiet as the rowdy tavern can get, before a round of cheers explodes across the table. 

"When do we set out?" Someone else asks. 

"Three days time so party hard tonight boys. Tomorrow we prepare for war and the day after, we sail!" Lance yells. His crew stand up with a loud cheer, clanking their drinks together so hard that ale spills over the sides of most of them. Lance casually uses his foot to push away from the table so when the ale spills over the side it doesn't go down legs. 

"They sure are rowdy tonight McClain." A soothing voice sounds behind him. The person leans on the back of Lance's chair and her blonde hair spills down Lance's shoulder. Nyma, an old bed mate. Lance tilts his head to the side to look her in the eyes. 

"That they are. Are you here for small talk or fun?" Lance asks. Nyma laughs and leans back, her corset creaking quietly. 

"I'm here for fun, but not with you." Nyma teases, running her nail from Lance's chin to his cheek. Lance raises an eyebrow inquiringly. 

"And who are you here for doll?" Lance asks. Nyma's eyes slide from Lance to across the table where his drunkest crew mates sway drunkenly to the pub song they're singing off key. Lance's eyes lock on Rolo, who doesn't look quite as drunk but laughs and sings anyways. 

"Who's your blonde friend with the stubble over there?" Nyma asks. Lance smirks. 

"Rolo. Want me to introduce you?" Lance asks but he knows the answer already. 

"Oh Lance. You know I only let them come to me." She purrs. Her hand slips from his face as she saunters away, past the line of drunks with Rolo on the end. Nyma flashes her winning smile and that's that. Rolo's smile slips as his eyes track her across the room, and then he's slipping away from the group. 

Lance laughs at him. He totally fell under her spell. Rolo better keep an eye on his coin pouch with that one. Lance holds out his hand again, and another pint finds its way into his palm. His crew are so good to him. 

Lance waits until the night dies down, then slips out of the tavern. Hunk, of course, follows at his heels. As First Mate, Hunk takes his job of protecting Lance seriously, sometimes too seriously. 

"So Hunk." Lance says, aiming to start a casual conversation while they walk back to his ship. "When are you gonna bite the bullet and ask her out?" 

Hunk plays coy like he doesn't know who Lance is talking about. 

"Ask who out?" Hunk says, still shuffling his steps to keep pace with Lance. He rolls his eyes skyward. 

"Shay you idiot. I know you like her, she likes you, you two are practically courting. So why not make it official?" Lance suggests, nudging him in the side. Hunk swats away his arm with a huff as they round a corner to head to the docks. 

"I want to take things slow okay? Besides, she deserves someone who isn't away all the time." Hunk says, a sorrowful note to his voice. Lance sighs. 

"You don't have to sail with me you know. I know you miss land when we're at sea." Lance says softly, gently. Hunk sighs and waves his hand at the ground. A few small rocks float into the air and he plays with them, spinning them around his fingers like Lance threads a coin through his when bored. 

"I wouldn't even be alive without you man. And I'm happy to sail. I love the ocean too." Hunk says. He still sounds sad. 

"Hunk you don't owe me anything. You're my best friend. I just want what's best for you. And besides. You can still sail when you crave the ocean, you know you will always be welcome on my ship." Lance offers. Hunk shakes his head at him. This is a constant conversation between the two of them lately. Ever since Hunk started liking Shay Lance has tried to push him to find the love that could bloom if only he tried. But Hunk is stubborn, and loyal, and refuses to leave Lance's side. 

"Maybe one day." Hunk says, and that's that. They reach the docks within minutes of the conversation ending, and Lance and Hunk climb onto his ship. They split up, Hunk going to his cabin to rest, while Lance heads to the war room. 

He lays out a map of the nearby kingdoms, and makes another mark in ink on the paper. Every x on the map are places Kogane has crossed paths with Lance, every circle are places he's been spotted. He frequents the border between Daibazal and Balmera, a border that is frequently tested by Daibazalee soldiers. 

Balmera has been a constant target of Daibazal. 

They are the main producers of a mineral called quintessence, the crystals that produce their own light. Emperor Zarkon relies heavily on these crystals but trade has been scarce between the two kingdoms ever since talk of war has begun. Altea are allies with both Olkarion and Balmera, though Olkarion has already declared themselves a neutral kingdom should war break out. 

It actually makes sense to be honest. 

Olkarion is a kingdom of scholars and healers. Their military might is weak, but attacking them would be fatal even for large countries such as Altea and Daibazal. The Olkari may be weak in military might, but their people are exceptionally powerful witches and warlocks. To attack them is to force them into drastic measures. 

Meaning their magic users would force natural disasters to occur unnaturally. 

It's rumored there is one witch, a healer, with such powerful Earth magic that she could cause earthquakes in Altea without even leaving her home. And since Altea is on a fault line, that could mean the destruction of mass proportions. Of course, there is no evidence that Lance knows of to make these rumors true.

Lance leans back in his chair, a hand raised to play with the water in the air. His magic is weak right now, due to the amount of magic saving his ship took, but he will be ready for battle again in a few days. He just needs to rest some more. For now however, even drawing water from the air is difficult. He soon stops using his magic when a wave of fatigue makes his limbs heavy. 

Lance ponders on what he would do should war break out. 

His agreement with the king is only so far as Lance going on missions outside of Altea borders that the King's men can't make without heavy negotiations between kingdoms. To get involved in the war is to pick a side. 

If he chooses Altea, which would be the most likely of choices for him, then his ventures even to Balmera territory would be dangerous. To pick Daibazal would be to betray Allura and he would never do such a thing. To be neutral like Olkarion is to sever ties with Altea altogether. At least until the war ends. 

None of these options are ideal.

Altea is his home country though, where he became a man, where his family lives. So if the choice had to be made he would choose Altea. Lance eyes the map of the countries with narrowed eyes. Altea and Daibazal are both situated on the mainland, a thick line of mountains separating the two countries. Those mountains are treacherous to cross, even for the people who do so regularly. 

Off the coasts of both countries are two large string of islands. 

The string off of Daibazal is Balmera, and the string off of Altea is Olkarion. Separating the two islands is what is known as Death Valley. Sailing down this straight is a death wish because of all the whirlpools. Getting caught in one of those is no fun, Lance would know personally. They barely made it out of that alive let alone intact. 

Across the sea is a lot of other countries, most of them at peace with each other. But the trip is so long and backbreaking that setting up trade is near impossible. Even communication between them and the four countries on this side of the map is difficult. 

The crystals Balmera is particularly endowed with, when infused with every magic known to exist, even Light and Dark magic, provides the ability to communicate between crystals. However, there aren't as many Light or Dark magic users around anymore, so those kinds of crystals are scarce to come by. They fetch a heavy price on the black market just to pay someone to get one, not even including the crystal itself. 

Lance sighs and rubs at his eyes. Figuring out a plan of capture that would fool the Dragon will be hard to come up with. He'll be stuck in this room for the next few days at the minimum. Hopefully while he's here Allura calls on him for something so he has no choice but to adhere to her summons. 

This'll be a long night.

******

(First)(Previous)(Next)(AO3)

[draco-malfoy-imagines]

Title: I promise Warnings: Fluff, Slight cussing Rating: PG-13 Word count: 1,852 Y/H/H - your Hogwarts house Y/N - your name Y/B/F - your best friend Y/C/H - your color hair Y/F/S - your favorite snack Y/F/N - your full name Hey guys!! So this is my first imagine back and I hope you like it! I might be a little rusty but hopefully it still satisfies your Draco needs! I also want to apologize for the user who sent in this request so long ago via direct message for only responding now. Better late than never? I love all of you to bits and hope you enjoy this read!  -s

“I wanna go to forever 21!!!” You said in a whiney voice to Draco who was terrified of the muggle world. “what are you so scared of anyways the people are the same as wizards just without magic…and they use pens instead of quills.” “I just don’t understand why we have to go. Why can't you just buy clothes at a wizard store like everyone else?” You pondered this question, of course you knew why, you wanted jeans that actually fit you and showed off your figure but Draco would just retort with some excuse for not going. “Fine whatever I’ll go by myself.” You said throwing your arms up in the air hoping the guilt trip would work. You swiftly turned and began to head to the Y/H/H common room, “fine” you heard a low voice say in a tone indicating he’d given up, “I’ll go Y/N” you sported a smug smile as you faced him once again, “tomorrow. Noon, meet me in the great hall, no robes.” You gave him a quick kiss then continued on your way, proud of yourself for manipulating the master manipulator. The next day you slipped on your jeans, a plain gray v neck and a pair of converse. Draco always found it odd when you wore jeans or leggings, he was only ever used to seeing girls in high class dresses like his mother, but you preferred a more ordinary look. You walked to the great hall just as the loud chime from the clock signaled it was 12 o’clock. Draco sat at the Slytherin table chatting with Crabbe and Goyle who openly despised you, now probably more than ever. Draco was wearing a full on black suit complete with cuff links and a tie. “You are not wearing that” you said as you walked up, “you look Like a spoiled rich brat especially to muggles.” “whats wrong with this!” He snapped “I think I look good personally.” “never said you didn’t, go and change into the black jeans and white tee shirt I bought you when I visited my parents.”. He didn’t answer audibly but slunk out of his seat and made his way to the dormitories to change, as you waited you took a seat at the Y/H/H table next to Y/B/F. After fifteen or so minutes Draco walked back in wearing the clothes you’d bought him and he looked damn good if you say so yourself. It showed off his personality quite well with the slight bad boy aesthetic going on, you gave yourself a silent pat on the back for your choices. You giddily strode over to him and took his hand, overjoyed to finally get to show him the world you’d grown up in. “You look like an utter twat!” You heard Crabbe holler as you left the great hall to the front entrance of the school, you merely put your middle finger up over your shoulder and continued walking out. Professor Dumbledore gave you an approving nod as you walked by, he’d always supported you and Draco and praised you for saving him from becoming his father or worse, which is why he’d helped get you the go ahead to apparate on weekends between 11am and 9 pm from the ministry. You walked with Draco to the front lawn then turned to him “you ready” you gleefully asked him with a grin plastered on your face, “as ready as I'll ever be” you nodded and you apparated to the leaky caldron in London where no one would find two people appearing out of nothing suspicious. As your feet touched the ground everything came into view and you couldn’t help but be proud, last time you apparated you landed on a flight of stairs and promptly fell down them. “Lets get goin’! We can't waste daylight boy!” You practically yelled as you led him out the door and onto the streets of London which he’d only ever been on briefly. “ok so I want to go to forever 21, the London Eye and a grocery store to get snacks I’ve been missing!” “o-ok” Draco replied hesitantly, clearly feeling overwhelmed. You stepped in front of him and placed a soft reassuring kiss on his lips, “You'll be ok, just put your wand in your coat pocket, muggles are staring because you look like a loon with a stick” he let out a slight chuckle and tucked his wand into a pocket. You headed towards the London Eye which Draco was amazed by, asking questions that sounded silly to someone who’d been exposed to this world their whole life such as“how do those stay up there without magic?”, “why aren’t these people scared?” and “how did they build this without levitating?” As you stood in line you answered all his questions trying to not go too in depth and prompt even more. When you arrived at the front you asked for your own cart and luckily the line wasn’t too long and through gridded teeth the plump man running it waved you on. As you went around the ferris wheel you pointed out the sights to Draco and he stared in wonderment like a small child. When you stopped at the top his knees lurched, “why’d we stop?” He asked with a glimmer of fear in his eyes, “so the man can load the other cars, I promise its ok.” He nodded slowly and you jumped up “lets take a picture!” You excitedly exclaimed, you took out your phone and ushered him over, he’d of course seen your cell phone before but it still baffled him, he just had stopped asking questions. You took a selfie, you both smiling into the camera with the London skyline in the back, and then one of you kissing although your Y/C/H hair got in the way and had to be brushed behind your ear more than once. When you arrived back at the bottom Draco was grinning ear to ear, “We have to do that again sometime!” He exclaimed, you let out a small giggle and nodded to continue your day in the city. You stopped at forever 21 where you tried on too many clothes and bought too many as Draco sat with the other boyfriends looking bored out of their minds. Then went to the nearest grocery store to pick up your favorite treats you’d missed so dearly, chips, instant noodles, Y/F/S/ and more. The sky was beginning to darken signaling you needed to head back to the castle. You stuffed everything you’d bought into your bag that you’d charmed to fit everything, you didn’t want other people seeing you had special privileges of course, and took Draco’s hand back to the leaky caldron which was now only populated with a few witches and wizards. You turned to him ready to apparate when he grabbed your hand, “wait, I know Crabbe and Goyle make fun of me and us but I truly had a great time today and they should be jealous. I have the best girl out there, I love you Y/F/N, and no one could ever change that.” You quickly hugged him catching him off guard as he’d been looking at the floor. “i love you too Draco, thank you” you whispered in his ear, he snuggled his head into your neck and then broke away to kiss you. Draco scarcely said I love you even though you’d been together quite some time, after all his whole life he’d been taught to suppress his emotions. After the kiss and all the butterflies in your tummy had stopped flying around you apparated back to Hogwarts. Almost as soon as you arrived back Draco’s owl dropped a letter to him. He looked at it with a puzzled expression on his face, “what is it?” You asked him, “a Howler.. from my father” he responded dully his platinum hair falling in his eyes. “Come with me, I know a place no one will hear it and we can open it together” you proposed taking his hand, “No. I don’t want you hearing what he’s going to say about you and your world. I know my mother loves you and supports us but my father doesn’t feel the same.” you knew he was right and you probably didn’t want to hear what his father was going to say but you had to be there for him and you knew it. “I'll be ok,  come on”, You took his hand and lead him to a far corner of the castle that Y/H/H had long time used when they needed a break from people in general. “Go stand around the corner, I want to do this alone”, You nodded and did as he said standing around the corner your back against an icy cold stone wall as you sunk to the floor. You listened intently and heard Draco take a deep breath before the ruffling of paper that indicated he was opening it. “ Draco Lucius Malfoy I cannot believe you entered the muggle world, and with that mudblood girlfriend of yours” Lucius screamed out of the letter, “You’re lucky I don’t pull you out of school and forbid you from seeing her, if it were up to me I would but your damn mum won’t allow me as she’s taken some kind of twisted liking to this girl. Y/N is corrupting you can’t you see! Muggles are the scum of the Earth and she comes from them, her parents are them. I cannot control your actions but I can disapprove and hate you for them. I will be ceasing all contact with you. I’m sure your dirty mother won’t though. Goodbye my traitor son” you then heard the sound of the letter ripping itself to shreds and rushed in to hug Draco who had a cold stone expression on his face. “I’m sorry Draco, if we need to stop seeing each other or anything we can” you said through tears, “I know how important your family is and if my fami-“ Draco cut you off pulling you in front of him so you were looking in his gray eyes, “Y/N stop.” He said in an unexpectedly calm tone, “You're my family now. I never liked my fathers plan for me anyways, I still have my mother too. I love you and don’t ever think my judge-mental father could change that.” He slowly reached in his pocket and retrieved a small gold band with 3 perfectly cut diamonds protruding from it. “i snuck out while you were shopping and bought this, its not much but its a promise ring, to truly show you how much you mean to me, I was going to wait fo-“ now it was your turn to cut him off, you kissed him hard and fast through tears that were now falling for a different reason. “I love you Draco Lucius Malfoy” you said when you broke away, “don’t you ever forget that”. He slowly picked up your left hand and placed the delicate ring on your finger, “I promise” he whispered.    

[axel-writes]

The old Gods are dead, chapter one - mobile users

Desktop link

I noticed I’ve never made a post for this chapter for those who are mainly using the app ^^” So here you go :)

The Mardale forest was a vast, misty and ancient forest. Its canopy was dominated by birches, sycamores, and hawthorn trees, and abundant dancing lights would bounce through their crowns for colourful shrubs to grow in the boulder covered grounds below. A variety of beastly sounds, most of which were fleeing animals, echoed in the air, and formed a chaotic orchestra with the croaks of frogs in the nearby ponds. Silent climbing plants waved from every tree, and a hodgepodge of flowers, which clung to any space they could find, added more life in the otherwise amber forest grounds.

Raven hated the Mardale forest. Through his eyes of an eight years old child, they were walking through a dark and eerie forest in the early morning of that day. The trees were too tall making him dizzy each time he was trying to see their crown and their branches were looking more like arms reaching for his throat than branches. He wanted to go home, far away from here and go back in his bed where he knew he was safe but telling that to his mother now would only upset her more than she already was.

He looked up to his mother. Silver short hair like his covered a bony face with narrow green eyes that were focused on the path before them, determined, her hand tightly closed on his, almost crushing his bones. Freckles were spread across her tawny face and neck, freckles he remembered spending time counting them one after one before going to bed. Her chapped lips once pink, smooth and always smiling were now shut in a tight line, moving and forming words he wasn't paying attention to every now and then. She looked upset with her furrowed brows, he could feel it in the way she was walking faster, and faster, turning left and right walking even further from the path Raven knew they had to keep on following. Her mother and father were always reminding him to never leave the path, why doing it today?

"Mama? Where are we going?"

"Picking blackberries, remember?" She said without looking at him, her voice showing no emotion. "We must pick enough to sell them on the market and buy food. Hurry now, we're soon there."

They had thought that living near the royal capital, Vaneria, would make their life better, they had thought they would find a way out of poverty. But none of what they had wished for happened. His father was always out during the day and would only come back late in the nigh with only bad news and a gloomy face. His mother even had had to cut her beautiful long hair and sell them for a good price as silver was a rare shade of hair in the whole country. But it hadn't been enough. And then came a day Raven had learned to hate, a day something awoke in him. Something terrifying.

It had happened overnight, without warning, without giving them time to adjust to the situation.

Like every other day, Raven had been helping his mother with chores around the house, helping her fetch clear water from their well. He had then dragged the bucket with his tiny hands back to their house while being careful to not drop water on the ground. Water was scarce in some areas of Obreau, especially in Kilead, their hometown and they had been lucky enough to have a well. It was their little treasure. Raven had put the bucket on the small table just beside the fireplace, his hands flat on each side of it, his hazel eyes focused on the tiny waves.

He had felt something warm flow through his veins and tickle his fingertips as he was watching the water dance. The sounds around him were distant, he could barely hear the birds singing outside, or even the crackling fire. He was focused on the water inside the bucket which was now whirling slowly, then even more quickly when it started to boil.

"Raven?" His mother called him while getting down the ladder leading to his room, a broom in hand. "What are you doing, sweetheart?" He didn't answer. She walked to him, then placed a hand on his shoulder, before caressing the back of his neck. She frowned when Raven didn't move, nor laugh. He was ticklish there, he should have reacted.

She turned him around and couldn't help a scream to cross her lips. His eyes were rolling into the back of his head and tiny black dots looking like constellations were on his shoulders. When she was a little girl, she had heard many stories about people like that. They could use abilities they would call 'magic', some could control the elements, other could wiped away a thought by a single touch on someone's forehead, other could manifest their powers as blue flames or sparks at their fingertips. Those stories her mother and father would tell her had always scared her. How could the gods allow beings like them to live in Obreau? Were they their punishment? Did Obrean people anger the gods? And why was it happening to her son? Raven was her only child, she had loved him like every mother should, was raising him as well as she could despite their poverty. What could she have done wrong so that the gods would hate her that much and give her a monster for son?

When Raven had finally come back to his senses, he didn't understand why his mother was crying, huddled up on herself, screaming at him to stay away from her. He couldn't understand why the bucket was now empty.

Later that day, he heard them talk about him while he was supposed to be sleeping. He heard them call him 'monster', he heard them say they would have to find a solution, heard them say they couldn't live like that with fear gnawing them from the inside. It could happen again, he could do something worse, hurt them. They didn't talk to him for days and only watched his every movement in case one of his 'absence' would happen again. They didn't talk to him until that morning when they told him a walk through the forest to go pick some fruits would be a good start for the day.

"How lucky we are," she said without even looking at him. "They're full. Stay here, I forgot to bring a bucket. Don't move from here, your father will come soon. Don't move, you hear me?"

"Mama, you're scaring me," Small tears were running on his cheeks as she turned her back on him, walking further from him.

'Don't move!' was the only thing he heard from her before he couldn't see her shape anymore.

Raven started to pick some blackberries, putting them in his shirt and his pockets knowing they would be mad if he'd done nothing while they were gone. He didn’t know how long they would take to come back and hoped with all his heart that he wouldn’t have to stay alone here for a long time. Hearing the wind through the leaves was scary, seeing the bushes move from the corner of his eyes was terrifying. Anything could come out of there and jump on him. Maybe it only was a rabbit, or maybe it was a wolf patiently waiting for the right moment. Waiting for the right moment to jump on him and bite his throat. No one would be there to help him. He would die alone in a forest he hated.

Raven couldn’t tell how many minutes, hours, went by before the thought of his parents never coming back crossed his mind. He should have known it, their behaviour towards him should have warned him. Since that incident with the bucket, his mother had stopped telling him bedtime stories, she had stopped taking him to the market with her. She had stopped telling him how much she loved her little boy, had stopped hugging him. It wasn’t different with his father. Each time he was in the same room as his father, each time he was meeting his eyes, Raven could see them glisten with sadness, disgust, fear. The words he was saying to him when he would finally talk to his son weren’t ones a father should say.

The more days had passed by, the more he had started to believe their words. Raven was a monster. Raven was dangerous.

It had happened one day again when he was alone at home. They had been spending a day or two in Vaneria, just the two of them because “mama and papa need some time alone”, as they’d told him. The rain had been falling heavily for hours leaking through the roof, and Raven hadn't known what to do more than putting buckets and pans underneath each hole. The atmosphere inside the house was damp, their linen soaked. He hoped the rain would stop soon and that everything would dry before they'd come back. His parents had never been violent, but now that their behaviour had changed, Raven could never be too careful. One of the holes in the roof had drawn his attention because of its strange, but funny shape. It looked like a star.

Raven had stretched his hands to the roof without realizing it, and let the rain fall on him. It was then that he'd felt the same sensation flow through his veins and tickle his fingertips, something calling for him in the depths of his soul. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head once again, the black dots adorning his shoulders came back as he was focused on the rain, focused on the black clouds slowly disappearing to give way to the sun and a beautiful blue sky before falling to the ground, exhausted and terrified. He couldn't control it, whatever it was, and he feared something would happen again when his parents would be back home.

He jumped when he heard a branch snap, then another, and another. He didn't want to think what kind of animal was coming for him, or maybe it was the trees coming closer. They would wrap their branches and roots around his body, trapping him in a tight embrace until his bones would break, one by one. They would then free him and let him die in the Mardale forest, moss would grow on his body as the years would go by. No one would miss him, no one would remember him, no one would notice his parents had abandoned him here out of fear.

A scream crossed his lips when he felt something brush his ankles, and he started to run dropping the fruits on the ground. He ran as fast as he could without knowing where he was going, without paying attention to his surroundings, but most of all without looking behind him. He didn't want that thing to catch him and eat him. Raven hated that forest and he was sure there was more than cute little animals like foxes or squirrels. He remembered some of his mother's stories and that made a shiver run down his spine.

One in particular that had given him nightmares was about a forest paved with emeralds and diamonds. The trunk of the trees was made of black onyx striped in white, their leaves were made of rubies for some, sapphires for other, and their fruits - not bigger than a pearl - were the most delicious thing on Earth and one single of them could sustain a grown-up man for the whole day. But most people would only pick them to make them into necklaces and other pieces of jewellery. Men and animals living in the forest were living in harmony. There was no hunt, nor poaching, and war between men didn't exist. Until one day when a beast-like creature thirsty for wealth invaded the villages around the forest. It wrought bloody havoc on the villages, killed many of its villagers and had destroyed every path leading to the forest, digging deep trenches all around it with its blue breath so no one could reach it. Many had tried to kill the beast, peasants, knights, warlocks, but all had failed. The only trace of their attempts were ashes and charred bones.

He didn't want to die in the same way as the characters of his mother's stories, didn't want to die alone in that forest. But he was a monster, maybe this was his only option.

Raven didn't want to die.

He stumbled over a root and fell on the ground head first, the soil staining his tears-streaked cheeks. Raven screamed. Raven hit the ground until the side of his hands were bleeding, until he was too tired to even feel the rain falling on him and hear the thunder rumbling in the distance.

What were they doing now? Were they having dinner, happy without him? Did they say to their few neighbours the real reason why he wasn't with them, or were they lying to them? Were they thinking about him? Were they happy now that the monster wasn't living in their home anymore? Was a part of his mother regretting their decision? Was his father telling her they had made the right choice? Raven didn’t know if he wanted the answers to all of these questions. He surely wouldn’t like them.

Lying on his side, Raven shed countless tears as the rain was now pouring down on his shivering body, turning dry soil into mud. What was he supposed to do now? He was lost, the forest was too vast, and he should have paid attention to the road they had taken earlier. He wanted to go home so badly, go home to them, to his mother’s arms who would hug him close to her heart, and hear them tell him it only was a joke. A really bad joke. They would laugh, and he would cry telling them they were mean, and he had been so scared. But nothing like that would happen. They left him in that forest, alone and scared.

A part of him thought it could have been worse. They could have sold him to a merchant, or worse to some mercenaries, and who knows what they could have done to him. Raven had witnessed a scene like that a few months ago. He had been surprised by screams coming from the streets and running to the window out of curiosity, he had seen a little boy not much older than him being dragged away from his crying mother, his father’s hand closed on his arm. The boy was crying, screaming, begging his mother to not let him do that, that he didn’t want to go with them, but his mother had only turned her head from the scene and had shed more tears. A beautiful woman dressed in clothes embroidered with gold had then wrapped her arms around the little boy, whispering into his ear things Raven couldn’t hear as the man beside her – her husband perhaps – put a heavy purse in the father’s hand. They had left after that and the same night, Raven fell asleep with the boy’s screams echoing in his mind.

His parents had barely answered his questions when he’d asked them why they did that. They only told him that sometimes, people had to do things they didn’t like or never thought of in order to survive, even if that would mean they would suffer. Raven never saw the little boy again.

His feet were hurting him, but he had to keep on walking. His throat was dry, his face damp with tears and drops of rain, he was hungry too, but he couldn’t stop, didn’t want to. He had to leave that forest and go back home, but the more he was trying, the more he knew he was putting more distance between him and them.

Raven wiped his face with the back of his hand smearing more mud on his cheeks, when he came across a clearing. A few ruins were scattered around a small river, ruins of an ancient temple whose only remaining were the arch and the statue of the protective divinity of the forest. Raven didn't care about the temple, didn't care about the statue covered in moss and vines as he ran to the river and fell on his knees. He gulped large mouthfuls of clear water, coughing when it went down the wrong way, before he removed his torn shoes and let his feet dangle in the water. With a hand he took out from his pocket the few fruits he still had, undamaged after his fall, and ate them. He was sure he would find another bush on his way, he just needed to keep his eyes open. His back met the wet grass and he couldn't help himself but shed more tears once more when he looked into the eyes of the statue above him.

Nei, that was the name of the divinity. They were a kind and caring deity thanks to whom the forest was always green, even in winter. They were taking care of each tree, each plant and flower making sure none were hurt or sick, making sure no one was harming the forest and its inhabitant. According to what the priest had taught him back in Kilead, Nei wasn't living with the other deities in Niovie - a series of large islands floating above the clouds inhabited by the divinities - but instead had decided to stay with humans and help them in any way they could without ever revealing who they truly were. Nei wasn't the only divinity living in Obreau, they were a few dozen across the country hiding their true identity and using their powers to help those in need.

"You are supposed to help those who are lost in your forest," Raven said to the statue with a hoarse voice, a lump in his throat. "Where are you? I want to go home."

He reached a hand to the statue hoping it would take it, hoping someone would come for him and stood up quickly when he heard a noise behind him coming closer. His eyes roved the clearing searching for the origin of that noise, a growling noise that raised his hair on the back of his head and pricked his fingertips. The sky above him was changing, becoming darker and darker, lightning streaking the sky as Raven's fear was seizing his body. He didn't dare to move, didn't dare to breathe as long as he wouldn't see what was coming for him. He tried to stay calm, tried to not panic and run as fast as he could. It was only when he felt the statue against his back that he saw them.

Four black wolves with golden eyes were staring at him, ears sticking straight up on their head, teeth bared, and growling. Raven knew that if he moved one single finger, they'd come for his throat and he'd become their next meal. Had they been following him since long? How was it that he hadn't heard them? The rain had eased off, he should have heard them. Or was it maybe Nei that was sending them to get rid of him? Would a deity be that cruel and kill a child? He didn't remember Nei being an aggressive deity, they were quite the opposite in his memories.

Their sibling though was one of the most vindictive deity from Niovie. Were the wolves under their command? Why would they be after him? Nei's sibling was the protective divinity of the seas and Kilead was too far away from the seaside, Raven didn't know how he could have angered them.

His teeth were rattling, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he was calling for his mother. Raven was still hoping it was just a horrible nightmare, that these wolves weren't going to eat him, that his blood won't soil the statue. Who knows what could happen to him in the afterlife if he'd profane with his blood the statue of a deity? He had heard so many stories from the priest about men and women being tortured for days before they had the right to a new life, a new chance, and now he didn't know anymore if those stories were real of if the priest had only been telling them to scare them. Why would the gods want him dead? Because strange things were happening to him? Because he was a monster?

The wolves were circling him, growling louder, coming closer. Thunder was rumbling above them once more and Raven felt his fingers burn with each rumble. Then, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw one of the wolves jump, aiming for his small body. Raven acted by reflex. He raised his hands in front of his face, eyes closed, waiting to feel the wolf fall on him and crush his body, waiting to feel its teeth sink in his throat. But he felt nothing apart from the burning sensation in his fingers growing more and more until he heard it, a cracking sound followed by a stench and burning smell.

Raven opened his eyes, surprised he wasn’t dead yet, surprised he could feel the warmth of the sunlight caressing his cheeks when there were only dark clouds a few seconds earlier and noticed four black and smoking spots surrounding him. He walked closer to one of them, a hand on his mouth and nose, closer enough to notice it wasn’t just burnt grass, but charred bones and flesh. Raven fell on his knees and puked from the shock and the smell, his hands closed in fists on the still green grass. He didn’t know how but he knew it was him. The lightning had burnt them all before they could have reached him. He had killed them.

He cried while crawling on the grass dragging himself away from the sight until he could feel the roughness of the statue against his back once again. He screamed until his throat was hurting him, his face raised to the sky asking Them ‘why’. He wasn’t waiting for an answer, he knew They wouldn’t give him one. They never did, not when he’d been crying in his bed late into the night the first time they called him monster, nor when he had wished for Them to make his parents love him again, and Raven thought that maybe right now They were laughing at him, up there on their island. They wouldn’t help him. He was all alone.

Raven walked for hours. Hours during which the pain in his heart hadn’t eased off. Hours during which he could feel how hostile the forest had become towards him, playing tricks on him. He couldn’t remember how many times he had stumbled on roots and fell, thus hurting his knees more than they already were. He couldn’t remember how many times he had felt a presence behind him carving holes on his back, couldn’t remember how many times he thought to have seen someone from the corner of his eyes and followed the shape, getting lost in the darkest parts of the forest, only to realise it weren’t his parents nor Nei.

When the sun started to set and fall below the horizon, Raven found a shelter in the crook of an old trunk. Curled up on himself, knees against his chest, he pressed his forehead against the wood thankful the dead tree wasn’t trying to kill him. He reached for his pants and pulled out from the pockets a few berries he had picked on a bush not far away from here. Raven put one in his mouth, but immediately spat it. What if they were poisonous? If the trees hadn’t managed to kill him, maybe the forest was taking advantages of his hunger and had turned every fruit into poison? Raven couldn’t take the risk. He wanted to die of old age, in his bed surrounded by his children and grandchildren. Not in a scary forest, hiding in a trunk, with gods not listening to his prayers.

A stupid thought crossed his mind. What if Nei wasn’t in the forest but rather visiting their sibling in the North? Maybe that was why they weren’t here helping him find the way out, maybe the forest wasn’t trying to kill him for whatever reason, but instead his frightened self had been imagining all of these things? The roots, the shapes, the voices, the poisoned berries.

His gaze lost in the distance, he didn’t notice a white point the same size as a wool ball moving between the trees, beckoning him to follow its silvery trail. It took him a while to notice it was a luminous orb, something he had never seen before, and just looking at it move back and forth, hiding behind a tree before he could see it again, made his lips stretch in a big smile. Looking at this light was filling him with warmth and hope he thought he had lost for good.

Raven left the safety of the trunk and walked to the light, cautious. Despite the happy feelings this ball of light had scattered in him, Raven couldn't help himself thinking it could be a trap. Something could be waiting for him wherever it would lead him, something Raven didn't want to meet; an evil spirit maybe, or another monster just like him, someone scarier, someone who wouldn't hesitate nor regret killing a child. A part of him trusted that ball, so he kept following its path being careful where he was putting his feet, asking it to slow down when he could barely see it in front of him and at certain times, Raven could bet he had heard it laugh.

He had the feeling he was following it for hours, avoiding many branches that could have scratched his face, stepping over more roots and crossing over small streams. He had no idea where it was leading him, but he hoped they would get there soon. Raven was starting to feel dizzy and weak, and his blurred vision was making it more difficult to follow the light.

The ball bounced in front of him and Raven took it as a 'we're almost there!' as it sped up, forcing him to run after it as he didn't want to lose its track, not after spending so long walking behind its trail. They ran past many trees and other bushes before Raven couldn't see any vegetation around him, but instead he saw a crossroad. One sign was leading to his hometown where no one wanted him back, where only hate and deception was waiting for him, while another was leading to a still opened gate. A road sign on which he read the name of the next city.

Vaneria.

Raven gritted his teeth to restrain a scream of joy and anger. He had been so close to that city, and yet so far. How many hours had he spent in that forest before that light took pity on him and helped him find his way out? Would he have spent the night in the trunk, cold and hungry if he hadn't followed it? Would he have stayed there and died with his last thoughts being for his parents? Raven didn't want to think about it, he was finally out and away from all the fears it had made him feel.

Raven followed the light to the gate, one foot after the other, his hazel eyes fixed on the sky every now and then where many stars were shining and was surprised the guards didn't stopped him when they crossed the drawbridge and entered the city, surprised they didn't even pay attention to him and the ball of light. He fell on the stone floor when they passed the tavern full of patrons and music, his legs no longer able to support him. The last thing he saw before he fainted were the flickering orange lights he could see through the windows of the tavern, and the ball of light above him disappearing.

[impossible-rat-babies]

for the affectionate moments meme: 22 for Dimitri and Elrahal, also 31 for Darva and Dorian :D :D :D

Thanks for the ask! I had a ton of fun with this meme, lemme tell you. I had yet to really get heavily into Dimitri and Elrahal’s dynamic and, as such, I wrote like 1,600 words for the one prompt. Whoops.

Anyway, most will be under the cut to avoid a big wall of text on the dash!

22: Caught in a Storm. 

1,600 words, pre-dragon defeat. Dragon’s Dogma stuff because I am a trashy main pawn/arisen person. Tbh, this is probably my favorite thing I’ve written for the two of them so far and I’ve done a fair share of writing about them for funsies.

Dimitri was known in Gransys for two things only and one of such was significantly more important than the other. One being that he was a user of magic, the other being that he was the Arisen. Such a title and the scar across his chest to prove it gained him all manner of acclaim the lowly man from a fishing village was not used to.

However, most of the time Elrahal knew him as someone to get himself into more trouble than he was worth. He had watched him fling himself as wolves, harpies, a golem, and even a griffin once. It seemed trouble had a knack for finding him and getting him into the worst possible situations that even Elrahal–a lowly pawn–could imagine.

But this…oh, this had to be the worst situation he had managed to get the lot of them into. They had been tracking a violent rogue sorcerer that had stolen something indescribably important to the Duke. At least, that’s how Dimitri had described in with a roll of his eyes. Elrahal had almost shared in his exasperation; if he was human, he was sure he would’ve. But the treasure was apparently worth enough to justify the trouble.

The trouble that had all started on the winding path down to the forsaken ruin. Violent winds wracked the small and narrow path through the canyon, slowing their movement to a crawl. Such as fate would have it, harpies had seen fit to ambush them as well. Elrahal had lost count of the number of times Dimitri had nearly been carried off by the beasts. But Dimitri had proved himself to be more tenacious than the other Pawns had thought. Elrahal knew well the lengths he would go to accomplish his tasks; he was his Pawn after all. As they continued their trek, the sky grew dark with clouds and a steady stream of rain began to pour from the sky; it wasn’t enough to soak them, but as the rain poured, it saw fit to turn the canyon floor into a thick mess of mud that hampered their progress. They ended up caked in mud up to their ankles and their hair soaked.

“Sit still.” Dimitri’s voice cut sharply through his thoughts of the day, his mismatched eyes looking up at Elrahal. His hands were stained with poultice and blood from the wounds magic had failed to heal.

“I apologize.” Elrahal replied in kind, his shoulders relaxing as Dimitri went back to carefully patching the large scrape along his side. He winced at the pain yet again, but did not flinch again as bandages were placed over the healing slave.

Golem’s were feisty creatures when angered and Elrahal had learned it better than any of them when the one saw fit to toss him like a ragdoll into the side of the canyon wall, leaving him in a crumpled heap upon the ground. The broken bones were healed with a simple touch of magic, but their mage had been unable to heal the broken wound on his side once the golem laid prone in the mud. Dimitri thought a blast from one of the runes left magic still lingering and working against the Anodyne. Regardless, the sky had truly gone dark and the rain still persisted. Dimitri had thought it better to rest and wait until morning before continuing along the trail.

‘If the sorcerer fancies himself safe, he shall not depart.’ Elrahal remembered Dimitri saying. They had cosied themselves within one of the small caves within the walls of the canyon; one of the other pawns tended to his own gear while one stood beneath a small overhang outside keeping watch.

“For the love of the Maker, sit still!” Dimitri ordered sharply yet again as Elarhal moved away from the touch of the herbs.

“‘Tis painful still.” Elrahal replied softly and Dimitri huffed.

“And it shant get better if you do not allow me to patch it!” He barked back and Elrahal frowned. He had been Dimitri’s constant companion since he had been brought from beyond to stand before him and as such knew the man better than any other Pawn or human they traveled with. He could hear the anger in his tone, but the anger in his face betrayed the compassion lying beneath.

“Is something beyond my wound troubling you?” He asked and Dimitri’s red eye matched Elrahal’s own red eye. A trait they had immediately shared whence he came into this world. Dimitri looked back to the wound, his lips curling into an unpleasant frown. The rain pounded against the rock outside, the sound echoing in the deep recess of the cave.

“I dislike when you throw yourself into danger as such.” He answered and Elrahal frowned.

“‘Tis your doing.” He responded and Dimitri scoffed. “When you charge into danger as such, how else shall I protect you?” He added.

“I scarcely remember being close to you when that Golem nearly sundered your flesh from your body.” Dimitri bit back as he slathered more of the wound with the healing herbs.

“It was rampaging, mind you.” Elrahal spoke and Dimitri laughed.

“Such sass is ill-becoming a Pawn.” He joked with a grin that still hid worry behind it.

“Yet you would care and tend to me as one would a human.” Elrahal dug deeper and Dimitri paused his bandaging. He could see him gripping the fabric tightly as the echoes of thunder rolled across the canyon walls, amplifying the sound.

The thunder had rolled the rest of the way down the canyon when Dimitri spoke in a solemn tone. “One could say…I have come to care for such as one would a human.”

Elrahal blinked in surprise as Dimitri immediately went back to bandaging his wound with nimble, trembling fingers. Something unfamiliar rolled in his chest and he knew it well from once before.

He had last recalled the painful sensation of his flesh becoming stone before the familiar abyss of fading back to the Rift took him. Darkness held him until he felt himself falling back into the real world; when he stood and looked, panic had gripped him before sense. Dimitri had stood before him, Barnaby practically holding him up. Lines of black were painted across his face and neck, his hand pressed against his blackened side. The Cockatrice poison had sunk deep into his flesh. But Dimitri had looked relieved beyond compare and even worried for his own safety beyond himself. Death was a foreign concept to Elrahal, but Dimitri had treated his loss like death was to humans: irrevocable and permanent. He later figured he only thought as such because the feeling itself had echoed deep in his chest.

Time would be kind to them that day in that he survived, albeit several days of rest were required. But Elrahal knew that the panic deep in his chest at seeing Dimitri in such a position was far beyond that of the drive to protect to see the mission of the Arisen fulfilled. He knew what had stirred in his chest as human feelings; ones of caring, a desire to protect, fondness. All elements of being human. But Elrahal knew himself to no more than a Pawn. The name itself defined his world–his identity–as a tool for the Arisen to use and shape. But Dimitri had taken him and given him a purpose as he had done with all the Pawns in his care. But he had given him a name, a gift more precious than one could imagine. A name would let him be…and be more than matter from a Rift to be shaped into a tool.

Still, he did not understand. Selene was the closest thing he could understand to reach that point, but even then she was still beyond his capacity to understand. She had been made human even though she had once been a Pawn.

“I do not understand.” Elrahal responded after a long minute and Dimitri glanced up at him.

“You do not understand my caring?” He asked and Elrahal gave a weak nod. He knew he couldn’t hide his emotions as well as a human could; whether it was beyond him to understand such feelings or they were too new to understand, he did not know.

“There is not one person within Gransys,” Dimitri spoke and Elrahal looked to him, “who has been at my side as much as you have, Elrahal. I do understand you as such to be constructed to serve me; such is the way of Pawns and without an Arisen you are left to the whims of time and space until another one arises to take the mantle. However…”

Dimitri heaved a sigh and his eyes closed for a long moment. “Beyond that which you were created, such is the potential to grow. Selene grew as such and The Fool grows as such.”

“As I have grown.” Elrahal spoke softly and Dimitri nodded.

“Do you see why ‘tis not a foolish notion of mine?” He asked with a soft chuckle and Elrahal’s eyes met his own. His chest fluttered again and he gave a weak nod. Silence of expectation hung heavy in the space between them before Dimitri shattered it by looking away.

Several shattering booms of thunder shook the caverns as Dimitri finished patching his wound. He wiped his forehead and heaved a deep sigh. The storm raged outside the cavern, turning everything into ill forgotten terrain.

“We best rest, lest the exhaustion of today drag into tomorrow.” He spoke to the other Pawn who looked up. “Go get our other companion to rest. I doubt any creature who would wish us harm would dare to venture in this storm.” He added and the Pawn dutifully responded. Dimitri tossed a shirt to Elrahal and he carefully slid the clean garment on.

“Best we rest.”

31: Catching the other before they fall. 800 words. Some pre-relationship Dorian and Mage!Darva stuff because of gay shit.

“You need to watch yourself on the slick rock.”

The words repeated in Dorian’s head over and over as he glanced in front of him at Darva who was making his way up the rocks of the Storm Coast. He was moving rather quickly up the rain soaked hill for a man with a long standing injury to his knee. Dorian wiped away raindrops from his forehead and continued to follow behind his fellow mage, carefully placing his feet in the same spots Darva had before. Despite his speed, he was finding the safest places to put one’s feet.

A loud rumble echoed around them and Dorian lifted his hood to look; light flashed around them again for a split second and he grumbled. The rain was only going to get worse and such the terrain was going to suffer too. He glanced briefly behind him, watching Cole take his own path behind him while Cassandra brought up the rear as she trudged through the ground that was slowly turning into mud.

He looked back up just as an inhuman sound akin to a yelp came from Darva. Panic gripped Dorian’s chest as the mage floundered, his arms flapping in a way that would’ve been comedic if the chance of Darva seriously hurting himself wasn’t so high.

It was like slow motion as he tipped backwards, his arms doing little to prevent the eventual fall.

“Darva!!” Cole cried, but Dorian knew the boy wouldn’t have been fast enough.

“Blast it!” Dorian cursed, quickly moving to grab the elf under his arms as his feet slipped out from underneath him. His back hit his chest and the force slid Dorian back a few steps, rocks slipping out from underneath of his feet. He struggled to get his feet back under him as Darva flailed, the slick rock leaving him with no purchase on the ground.

“Fuck! Dorian!” He cursed with panic in his voice and Dorian quickly swung him around so he was facing down the hill, allowing the elf to find more stable ground. Cole was there in an instant, taking Darva’s hands to steady him.

“Are you hurt?” Cole asked quickly with panic, looking at both of them as they struggled to get their breath.

“Frightened a great deal, but safe.” Darva answered him as he looked to Dorian to answer the same question. He gave a short nod in response and Darva nodded in return.

“Your knee alright?” Dorian asked and Darva nodded again, idly rubbing the top of his thigh to soothe any pain from the sharp movement. Thankfully, the pain faded quickly.

“Yes, thanks to your quick thinking.” Darva chuckled in relief and Dorian gave a laugh of his own.

“Couldn’t have had you tumbling down the whole hill now, could we? Where would that leave us?” He grinned and despite the cold rain already making his face flush, Dorian swore he saw a faint blush rise to Darva’s cheeks.

“At the bottom of the hill.” Cole answered in his usual fashion and both mages chuckled and shook their heads. Darva went to speak again, but Cassandra who had caught up to them spoke first.

“Are you hurt?” She asked and Darva shook his head. A sigh deflated her shoulders as the concerned left her before she looked up the hill, wiping away the raindrops that were quickly replaced by a half dozen more raindrops. “It seems we better find another way to get up this hill so we can avoid this happening again.” She spoke what everyone was thinking.

“It would be preferable to not lose my knee from underneath of me.” Darva replied and she nodded before she turned to head back down the hill.

Darva gave Cole a nod as if to say he was going to be alright before the rogue followed after Cassandra. Dorian carefully slid down to stand next to Darva and they looked to each other.

“Thank you.” Darva spoke genuinely before either of them could joke and Dorian chuckled. He could see the real thanks behind his eyes; he knew that if he had fallen, it would’ve been weeks of painful recuperation. Still, a joke wasn’t beyond Dorian.

“I am many things, but cruel? Perish the thought.” He replied and Darva scoffed.

“A simple ‘your welcome’ could’ve sufficed.” He joked and Dorian rolled his eyes.

“Now where is the fun in that?” He inquired and it was Darva’s turn to roll his eyes.

“You’re always so difficult!” Darva teased as he started his way down the hill before Cassandra tired of their antics.

“Nonsense! I am perfectly reasonable!” He barked back as he followed behind him, carefully watching his steps.

“We have business to attend to!” Cassandra yelled at them, effectively ending the conversation beyond the eye roll they shared. They both shared a chuckle as they continued down to the safety of the rain slicked grass where they would find a better way up the hillside.

Thanks again for the prompts, Ryan! I had a ton of fun with them! Find this prompt here! I’m still doing these folks!

[itbeajen]

Retribution | Takumi | Ch. 4

You were never the favored child. Perhaps I wasn't, but mother loved me. Even if she- Loved? You? You are nothing compared to your siblings. Your katana skills are mediocre compared to your older brother. You cannot brandish the naginata like your sister. Ryoma nii-san was unmatched with the katana. Hinoka nee-san's natural talent with the naginata cannot- And your archery skills are only good because Corrin wasn't there. I- You were only given the Fujin Yumi because Corrin wasn't there. Would Mikoto really have given it to you?

Mother never discriminated. She- Mikoto would have given it to her rightful daughter; not you. Never you. It was never meant for you. You were never the chosen one. You were not destined for anything. You are not important. Stop. You know nothing. Mother loved all of us even if we weren't her children. "-mi." And Sakura? Your beloved sister's kind and understanding disposition is preferred over you- "-kumi?" Shut up. Shut up. Stop. Shut. Up. No one loves you. No one needs you. You are not needed. "STOP!" Takumi sat up in cold sweat. His breath was labored, but in his haste to wake from his nightmare, he failed to recognize the presence of a rather dainty flower sitting beside him. Sakura flinched and watched with wide eyes as he attempted to calm down. His entire figure trembled slightly as he ran his hands through his hair in order to relax. She took in a gentle breath and called his name once more. But she feels her heart ache at the way he freezes at the sound of his name. As though he wanted to be anyone other then himself. "Brother.. are you okay?" Although he makes no audible response, she sees it in the way his composure. His breathing slowly begins to even out, but his eyes speak fear. Anxiety. Disbelief. And doubt. I know I'm nothing like Ryoma nii-san or Hinoka nee-san, but I'm still.. I'm not... "Is everything okay?" He slowly shakes his head, but he doesn't explain anything. His entire body trembles as he shakily takes in a breath. He doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know how he can explain it. A part of him wanted to push Sakura away. He wasn't sure if it was out of fear of potentially hurting her, or because of his own disgusting selfish personality. Sakura gently takes his hand in hers. Her soothing touch appeared to help ground the silver haired male. He looks over to her and the soft smile and unadulterated acceptance that shone in her eyes makes him sigh in relief. "Thank you, Sakura." Her eyes widen slightly in response, but then it softens. "Anytime. I didn't expect you to be taking a nap in the garden though." Takumi glanced around and then dryly chuckled, "I guess Kiran's been influencing me." Peaceful laughter spilled over their lips, and the renown archer from Hoshido lets out a breath of relief at the peaceful and soothing atmosphere. But it quickly ends when the sound of rapid paced footsteps on tiles that causes the duo to look up. They come face to face to a stoic and composed red head who looks slightly surprised to see them there. "Oh? Sir Takumi, Lady Sakura, will you two be attending the meeting tonight?" "Meeting?" Sakura echoed. "Yes, it's tonight." "Oh, thank you, Lukas." Takumi responded naturally as he slowly got up. His hands thread through his hair as he retied it, and he asked, "Is everyone else already present?" "Well, no," Lukas winced, "I overheard Lady Anna and Kiran speaking about holding one. But no real announcement was made until about half an hour back." "Is that so?" Takumi murmured, Lukas waits patiently for an answer, and the archer nods, "We'll be there shortly. You should go inform the others." A rare smile is on the soldier's face, and he nods before parting ways. Takumi lets out a sigh and Sakura mirrors the action shortly afterward. "I hate those war council meetings." "I dislike them as well, but you just dislike having to speak up in front of everyone," Takumi teased. Sakura flushed pink and pouted, "It's hard speaking up around so many other heroes!" Takumi nodded, and Sakura asked, "Must we go?" The older boy chuckled and gently ruffled her hair, "Of course we do. As one of the older heroes that have been around, we have to be there." "Kiran would be upset if you weren't there," Sakura laughed, causing Takumi to grumble, "Honestly, Robin might as well be the new favorite with the amount of time Kiran spends with him." A gasp escapes his younger sister's lips, and a teasing smile takes over when she teased, "Are you jealous?" The immediate flush that blossomed on his face gave away his true answer, but he barely stutters out a 'no' in response. He does his best to regain whatever image he had before, but in the end he gives up as Sakura bursts into laughter. He shakes his head fondly, but internally he sighs. I really wish times like these can last a bit longer.

"Takumi, can I talk to you?" The archer pauses and Sakura turns too. You immediately look over to the healer and gently stated, "Just Takumi, I'll talk to you later, Sakura." Sakura nods, and the door creaks close. Takumi glances at you. His eyes showed nothing but curiosity, and you weren't sure if you should be glad, or if you should be concerned. But you dismiss it momentarily and you asked, "Do you really think I should try summoning again?" Takumi hummed momentarily. You can't read his thoughts, but from the way his fingers slightly twitched, he must have been counting to find out when was the last time you did summon. After a moment of thinking, he nods, "You really should." Takumi paused at the sight of your expression. Your normally composed and bright personality seemed to dampen at the thought of summoning. And he asked, "Why not?" "Well," you sighed, "I really feel like our current teams are great. The units get along together well, and they know each other's personalities and such. I'm just scared that the new heroes, if and when I do summon them, won't get along." You hesitated, and you mumbled, "And of course, duplicates. It's even weirder when they're from slightly different timelines." Takumi winced at that, and you quickly added, "I mean! There's really nothing wrong with more heroes. It's just.." you paused, and softly mumbled, "We're in the middle of a war. Everything is hard, resource and time is scarce. I really can't afford to summon heroes right now." Takumi nods and asked, "Maybe after?" You paused and mumbled, "Maybe. If... If we really need to, I'll summon later. I guess," you sighed, "The next battle that's coming up will determine if I need to summon." But I really hope I don't need to. I have faith in them. I do.

Shit. Takumi dashed up a hill as fast as he could. But honestly, he should have tried to run downhill instead. He glanced back, and Robin is slightly panting from exhaustion. "We should have stayed with the group," Robin muttered as he began casting another spell. His tome glowed a bright blue and another burst of magic courses past Takumi, generating a gust of wind that bellowed past him. The sounds of arrows cutting through the air is heard as Takumi snipes down more Emblian soldiers. But the grunt of pain from behind causes Takumi to glance back momentarily as an axe user somehow made their way past him and towards Robin. "Robin!" the archer shouted before quickly launching another arrow. The axe user grunts in pain before stumbling backward and downhill. Robin mumbles his thanks and the sound of Hector and Roy at the base makes the duo uphill sigh in relief. "So glad we got through that safely," Robin mumbled. He gives a quick sigh and Takumi nods in agreement, "That was... rather risky." "At least we can head back now. We've secured enough ground, I'm sure Princess Veronica wouldn't be willing to lose anymore troops.. and she can't capture this world for now," Robin gives Takumi a small grin, "Kiran will be glad to see us back safely."

"Hmm, hey," Roy runs up to Takumi and taps his shoulder, "You're still injured?" Takumi glances down at his wounds and muttered, "I don't think so. I'm sure that blood is just dried up." He doesn't touch it though, but his brows furrow in confusion. I was pretty sure I would have healed by now. The healing properties in this realm are quite different from back at home. But his thoughts are pushed away as he makes his way towards his private room and bath. He wasn't sure if he wanted the others to know that he wasn't healing properly. No, he certainly didn't need them to worry about him incessantly. He wasn't sure if there was anything wrong, but he didn't want them to be too concerned. As soon as the water pours over his skin, it's as though he feels his entire body renew itself. As the ripples of water flowed down his skin, he feels his taut muscles relax from the heat. His hair is clinging to him, but he feels the dirt and exhaustion wash away along with the water. But as soon as he applies pressure onto his skin with the soap, the familiar sting of an open wound causes a hiss to escape his lips. His eyes widen in shock and he glances down at his arms and legs that were marred with scratches and bruises. I thought... they should have finished healing by now. He winces, but continues to finish cleaning up. I should get Sakura to heal them for me after this.

"Brother?" Sakura's voice is muffled through the wall, and Takumi responds just loud enough for her to hear. He hears the sound of the door open and she peaks in, head first with her staff just above her. As she makes her way in, he can see the worry and concern in the air as though it was a cloud hanging over them. "I'm fine, they just didn't heal properly." He wasn't sure if those words of reassurance were for her or for himself. But he can see the relief in the gentle and warm roseate hues that always helped him relax. He lets out a sigh as the healing aura washed over him. The cuts and bruises glowed a pale green, and he audibly lets out a sigh of relief as he feels the fatigue ebb away. But even though she can see the wounds visibly healing, Sakura's heart can't help but rapidly pump within. The slow healing, the way they seem to linger and form scars on his skin.. what if.. what if it's happening here as well? Her hands tighten on the hold of her staff, as though willing it to heal him faster, to make sure those scars disappear. Because if they disappear, she won't have to worry either. However, she can't help but feel as though that gnawing feeling inside is correct. I'll have to talk to Kiran tomorrow. She glances over at him once more, and he seems tired even after she finished healing him. I have to. I will.