SSTE

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Sleep is not merciful. Not to you. Perhaps it was once, long ago. When you wandered palace halls and played in fountains and climbed trees. You can hardly remember if you used to dream then, or what you might have dreamed about. Maybe your nights were filled with play and laughter, the way your days were. Or maybe they were blissfully silent. You were afraid of silence, once. Silence spelled death. Silence was the dull echo of a heartbeat beat, beat, beating out its last pulse before going horribly, dreadfully, awfully quiet. Silence was a last ragged breath drawn over cracked lips and a heavy tongue still wet with the taste of copper. Silence was the eerie still of unsinging birds, right before an ambush. Silence was a killer. Now, you long for silence. For an end to the endless buzz in your head, to the ceaseless thrumming of every thread of fate, their persistent humming a cacophany of noise so deafening you can scarcely hear yourself think most nights. Your goddess's borrowed sight is both a blessing and a curse—a parting of the veil that obscures the past and the future from those rooted in the present, an open door you cannot close. A dreamless sleep scared you once. Now, sometimes you cannot help but think it sounds...peaceful. It would be better than this, surely. [[Continue|Chp1-1.1]]

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<<if settings.achievements>><<link "Achievements">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Achievements"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("achievements").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>><</if>> <<link "Stats">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Stats"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("stats").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <<link "Credits">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Credits"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("credits").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <<link "Codex">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Codex"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("codex").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>>

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by Fen

<span class="bigtexttitle">Stygian Sun: Total Eclipse</span>

An interactive story

<<cacheaudio "desertmain" "music/desert-storm-ii-114904.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "desertfantasybg" "music/desertfantasybg.mp3">>  <<set $chapter to "Chapter 1">>  <<set $lucathey to "he">> <<set $lucathem to "him">> <<set $lucatheir to "his">> <<set $lucatheirs to "his">> <<set $lucathemself to "himself">> <<set $lucagender to "boy">> <<set $lucaThey to $lucathey.toUpperFirst(),$lucaTheir to $lucatheir.toUpperFirst()>> <<set $plural to true,$they to "they",$them to "them",$their to "their",$theirs to "theirs",$themself to "themself">> <<set $They to $they.toUpperFirst(), $Their to $their.toUpperFirst()>>\  <<set $gender to "person">> <<set $title to "prince">> <<set $sibling to "sibling">> <<set $child to "child">> <<set $Title to $title.toUpperFirst()>>\ <<set $Sibling to $sibling.toUpperFirst()>>\ <<set $Child to $child.toUpperFirst()>>\ <<set $skin to "tan">> <<set $eye to "brown">> <<set $hairlength to "long">> <<set $haircolor to "black">> <<set $hairtexture to "straight">> <<set $hairstyle to "ponytail">> <<set $height to "tall">> <<set $build to "slender">>  <<set $mcname to "">> <<set $mcnickname to "">>  <<set $favcolor to "blue">> <<set $favtea to "chai">> <<set $favteamixin to "honey">> <<set $magic to "fire">> <<set $weapon to "spear">> <<set $appearance to "apathetic">> <<set $clothes to "dress">> <<set $pretty to "pretty">>  <<set $imposing to 0>> <<set $dignified to 0>> <<set $charismatic to 0>> <<set $manipulative to 0>> <<set $confrontational to 0>> <<set $gentle to 0>> <<set $straightforward to 0>>  <<set $lookaway to false>> <<set $snappedatfarah to false>> <<set $embrace to "">>  <<set $flirtedAurynn to 0>> <<set $flirtedSamira to 0>> <<set $flirtedKieran to 0>> <<set $flirtedL to 0>> <<set $flirtedNihm to 0>>

<<widget "are">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>are<<case false>>is<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "do">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>do<<case false>>does<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "were">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>were<<case false>>was<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "have">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>have<<case false>>has<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "s">><<switch $plural>><<case true>><<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>> <<widget "name">><<print $mcname.toUpperFirst()>> <</widget>>

\ <span class="bigtext">$chapter</span>

<a href="https://www.motoslave.net/sugarcube/2/docs/">Sugarcube 2 Documentation</a> <a href="https://github.com/ChapelR/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2">Chapel - custom macros collection</a> <a href="https://github.com/cyrusfirheir/cycy-wrote-custom-macros">Cycy's custom macros</a> <a href="https://unsplash.com/">Unsplash</a> for sidebar images (<a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/dessert-field-pVr6wvUneMk">light mode</a> and <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/desert-landscape-photography-yNGQ830uFB4">dark mode</a>) <a href="https://mistyriousness.itch.io/fade-to-black-macro">Mistyriousness's fade to black macro</a> <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/17147719/?tab=music&order=latest&pagi=1">A Desert Tale - Ethnic & Fantasy Background Music by OB-LIX</a> \ \ \ \ \

<h3>StoryInterface</h3> The StoryInterface special passage, used by creating a special passage titled StoryInterface, allows you to override the default UI layout of Sugarcube. At its most basic, it consists of a div with the id "passages" that displays the data from your passages on the screen, as shown in example 1. You can add more complex layouts by adding more elements to this passage, such as menu bars, splash screens, headers and footers, as shown in example 2. Defining these divs is as simple as adding the necessary HTML to the StoryInterface passage; however, note that if a div is assigned a "data-passage" property, you should not add content to it within the StoryInterface passage. This property assigns a passage to that div. In example 2, the div with the id "ui-bar" has the data-passage property "UIBar", meaning it pulls its content data from a passage with the same name. These designations are case-sensitive. If you're just starting out with Twine/Sugarcube, it's a good idea to familiarize yourself with the language and the UI before working with StoryInterface. ''Example 1'' {{{<div id="passages"></div>}}} ''Example 2'' {{{<div id="ui-bar" data-passage="UIBar"></div>}}} {{{<div id="passages"></div>}}} {{{<div id="footer" data-passage="Footer"></div>}}} This will create a layout with three basic elements: the UI bar, the passage, and the footer. Content for the UI bar is found in the UIBar passage; likewise with the Footer passage & div. <h3>Accessing the UI functions</h3> Using StoryInterface by nature removes the built-in UI bar and the links contained within (Saves, Settings, Restart etc); these can all be replaced using their relevant APIs. The most common & useful of these are listed below. These commands can be placed inside links or buttons. {{{UI.saves() - opens the save UI}}} {{{UI.settings() - opens the settings UI}}} {{{UI.restart() - restarts the game}}} {{{Engine.backward()/Engine.forward() - undoes the previous action and returns the player to the previous passage/moves the player forward one action}}} Similarly to the above, you can use {{{<<back>>}}} to create a button that automatically undoes the last action, or {{{<<return>>}}} to return to the previous passage without undoing any variable changes made. <h3>Dialog functions</h3> You can set up dialog options to pop up upon clicking a link or button, which allows you to share information with the player without adding a new passage to the player's history or changing the state of the game. In order to do this, you need to set up the Dialog box, tell it what passage contains the content you want to display, and optionally, add a title. {{{Dialog.setup("Dialog Box Title");}}} {{{Dialog.wiki(Story.get("PassageName").processText());}}} {{{Dialog.open();}}} Any of these commands can be used in the default layout as well as StoryInterface - if you want extra save buttons, back buttons etc. <<back "Return">> <<link "Settings">><<script>>UI.settings();<</script>><</link>> <<button "Saves">><<script>>UI.saves();<</script>><</button>>

<<set $lucaThey to $lucathey.toUpperFirst(),$lucaTheir to $lucatheir.toUpperFirst()>>\ You try to look up at $lucatheir face, but your vision swims, and all you can make out is the hazy silhouette of a young $lucagender, barely thirteen, the outline of $lucathem grainy and distorted at the edges, unfocused and blurry like a foggy memory—one that brings with it a wave of nostalgia and fondness, of loss and heartache. Though you cannot make out $lucatheir features, you have no doubts about $lucatheir identity. You would know $lucathem by shape, by sound, by touch alone. “You’re here,” you croak, hoarsely. Your throat feels raw and ragged. “Mmm,” Luca hums. “You were gone a while, this time. Longer than usual.” $lucaThey sighs. “I see you are going to ignore my advice.” "What advice?" "About //not. Speaking.//" <div class="choice"><<link '“When do I ever heed your advice?"' 'Chp1-1.2tease'>><</link>></div> <div class="choice"><<link '“Ah. Right." You go quiet.' 'Chp1-1.2quiet'>><</link>></div>

<<set $straightforward to $straightforward + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Straightforward<</notify>>\ “Yes,” you say simply. “I do.” Were it anyone else, pride might have stayed your tongue in asking for help. But pride has never been an obstacle between you and Luca. Well, not for //you.// Perhaps, if you were honest with yourself, you could do this on your own. But the fact is you do not want to. You don’t want to be alone. You don’t know what it is that keeps Luca here, what it is that summons $lucathem to your dreams at night—your own loneliness? Manifestations of guilt, maybe? Or perhaps it is some sort of connection beyond the planes of life and death that your goddess, Theia, has graciously granted you. Regardless, you fear that if you did not need Luca’s help anymore, you would cease to see $lucathem. Dreams are the only place you can see $lucathem now, after all. You turn to look at Luca. “I still need your help.” You cannot see Luca’s face, but you can feel the smile in $lucatheir voice. “Well,” $lucathey says. [[“I suppose I’ll have to lend you a hand, then.”|Chp1-1.4]]

<<set $gentle to $gentle + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Gentle<</notify>>\ “No…” you lie. Perhaps, if you were honest with yourself, you could do this on your own. But the fact is you do not want to. You don’t want to be alone. You don’t know what it is that keeps Luca here, what it is that summons $lucathem to your dreams at night—your own loneliness? Manifestations of guilt, maybe? Or perhaps it is some sort of connection beyond the planes of life and death that your goddess, Theia, has graciously granted you. Regardless, you fear that if you did not need Luca’s help anymore, you would cease to see $lucathem. Dreams are the only place you can see $lucathem now, after all. “I can do this on my own.” You sit up straighter, trying not to look as exhausted as you feel. Luca lets out a small hum of amusement. “Oh?” $lucathey says, slouching forward to rest $lucatheir elbow on $lucatheir knee. $lucaThey props $lucatheir chin on $lucatheir fist. “Well, this I have to see.” You cave instantly. “I lied,” you admit. “I know,” Luca says, and you can hear the self-satisfied smile in $lucatheir voice. [[“I suppose I’ll just have to lend you a hand, then.”|Chp1-1.4]]

“Thank you,” you say. “I mean it.” Luca shifts a bit uncomfortably next to you. “It’s not a big deal.” $lucaThey sits up straight, crossing $lucatheir legs a bit tighter, and rests a hand on each knee. Though you cannot see $lucatheir face, $lucatheir features lost against $lucatheir dark silhouette, you feel as though you can sense $lucathem eyeing you out of $lucatheir periphery. “You’ve grown impatient,” Luca chastises you. “You remember how your mother taught us, don't you? You must grow roots before you can begin to branch out. Focus. Center yourself.” “Help me.” “Tsk tsk. Start small. Who are you?” “You know who I am.” “I do. But do //you//?” "I am..." <<textbox "$mcname" "Your name" "Chp1-1.5">> <<link 'See suggestions for gender neutral names.'>> <<script>> Dialog.setup('Gender Neutral Names'); Dialog.wiki(Story.get('gender neutral names').processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <<link 'See suggestions for male names.'>> <<script>> Dialog.setup('Male Names'); Dialog.wiki(Story.get('male names').processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <<link 'See suggestions for female names.'>> <<script>> Dialog.setup('Female Names'); Dialog.wiki(Story.get('female names').processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>>

Sol Auriel Aurelian Blaze Ymir Sunni Lucir Elio Aarya Auria Saffire Rubi Solstice Leo Leonor Laurel Renaedra Skye Skylis Ambyr Lustre Amayr Azar Aster Spark Flare Singe Flicker Sybil Delphi

Dawn Cyra Helena Cassandra Aurelia Amina Aaliyah Zahra Lumina Lumiera Saadiya Ellenoura Ylira Ellira Araya Sunniva Austra Goldis Scorcha Marisol Phaedra Lucina Amra Cressida Astra Althea Hestia

Amir Aurelius Cyrus Anwar Nuri Elio Lioran Leo Orion Aaziya Phoenix Solar Seraphim Aurum Zahran Ravi Azaran Aidynn Ardyn Sorriel Mars Azharan Selosion Austerion Horus Mehr Apollo

<<if $mcname is "">>\ Your mind swims as you try to recall your name, but nothing comes to mind. You press a hand to your temple as your head throbs painfully. <<link '"It\'s alright. Try again," Luca says, $lucatheir voice gentler this time.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Aurynn">>\ "My name is Aurynn," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, tilting $lucatheir head. "I think a certain retainer of yours would have some words about that." //That's right,// you think. //Aurynn is my retainer's name.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Theia">>\ "My name is Theia," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, sounding amused. "Don't go letting anyone else hear you say that. Rather blasphemous, don't you think?" //That's right,// you think, face heating with embarrassment. //Theia is my goddess.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Celestyl">>\ "My name is Celestyl," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, sounding amused. "Don't go letting anyone else hear you say that. Rather blasphemous, don't you think?" //That's right,// you think, face heating with embarrassment. //Celestyl is the moon god.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Starfell">>\ "My name is Starfell," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, sounding amused. "Don't go letting anyone else hear you say that. Rather blasphemous, don't you think?" //That's right,// you think, face heating with embarrassment. //Starfell is what we call the nameless god of stars, whose true name has been long forgotten.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Maia">>\ "My name is Maia," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, sounding amused. "Don't go letting anyone else hear you say that. Rather blasphemous, don't you think?" //That's right,// you think, face heating with embarrassment. A prickle of dread swirls in your stomach and you offer a silent prayer to Theia that the slumbering earth goddess did not hear you. <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Kieran">>\ "My name is Kieran," you say, although that immediately doesn't sound right. "No it isn't," Luca says dryly. "No, it isn't," you agree. <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Luca">>\ "My name is Luca," you say. If Luca could fix you with a dry look, $lucathey would. Instead $lucatheir silhouette flickers. "Very funny," $lucathey says. <<link '"Now try again."' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Lucien">>\ "My name is Lucien," you say, although that immediately doesn't sound right. Luca's silhouette flickers strangely. "No..." $lucathey says, $lucatheir voice sounding somewhat hollow. "That...that doesn't sound right." You give Luca an odd look, but $lucathey doesn't say anything more. <<link 'You\'ll try again.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Lilith">>\ "My name is Lilith," you say, although that immediately doesn't sound right. Luca's silhouette flickers strangely. "No..." $lucathey says, $lucatheir voice sounding somewhat hollow. "That...that doesn't sound right." You give Luca an odd look, but $lucathey doesn't say anything more. <<link 'You\'ll try again.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Samira">>\ "My name is Samira," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, tilting $lucatheir head. "I think you're mixing yourself up with a certain priestess." //That's right,// you think. //Samira is my acolyte's name.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Nihm">>\ "My name is Nihm," you say, although that immediately doesn't sound right. "No it isn't," Luca says dryly. "No, it isn't," you agree. <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Alektis">>\ "My name is Alektis," you say, although that immediately doesn't sound right. "No it isn't," Luca says dryly. "No, it isn't," you agree. <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Nour">>\ "My name is Nour," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, tilting $lucatheir head. "An understandable mistake, I suppose. You are flesh and blood after all." //That's right,// you think. //Nour is my sibling's name.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Farah">>\ "My name is Farah," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, tilting $lucatheir head. "An understandable mistake, I suppose. You are flesh and blood after all." //That's right,// you think. //Farah is my little sister's name.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Ember">>\ "My name is Ember," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "No," $lucathey says, $lucatheir voice pained. "That isn't your name..." It takes you a moment to part through the fog in your head just briefly enough to remember why that name sounds familiar to you. //That's right,// you think, sadly. //Ember is my older brother's name.// Was. //Was my older brother's name.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says, gentler this time.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Parim">>\ You struggle to think of a name, and say the first that comes to mind. "My name is Parim," you say, knowing immediately that is wrong. A stabbing pain grips your heart as you remember the way he crumpled to the ground, his neck torn open and twisted at an unnatural angle. "No," $lucathey says, $lucatheir voice pained. "That isn't your name..." "No," you agree quietly. <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says, gentler this time.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Castor">>\ "My name is Castor," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "No," $lucathey says, $lucatheir voice pained. "That isn't your name..." It takes you a moment to part through the fog in your head just briefly enough to remember why that name sounds familiar to you. //That's right,// you think, sadly. //Castor is my older brother's name.// Was. //Was my older brother's name.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says, gentler this time.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Aurora">>\ "My name is Aurora," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "No," $lucathey says, $lucatheir voice pained. "That isn't your name..." It takes you a moment to part through the fog in your head just briefly enough to remember why that name sounds familiar to you. //That's right,// you think, sadly. //Aurora is my older sister's name.// Was. //Was my older sister's name.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says, gentler this time.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Soleil">>\ "My name is Soleil," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, tilting $lucatheir head. "I doubt your mother would have named you after Soleil. The two can't stand each other." //That's right,// you think. //Soleil is Castor's, Ember's, and Farah's mother.// Was. //She was Castor's and Ember's mother. Now she only has Farah.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Najaat">>\ "My name is Najaat," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, tilting $lucatheir head. "I doubt your mother would have named you after Najaat. The two can't stand each other." //That's right,// you think. //Najaat is Nour's mother.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Safina">>\ "My name is Safina," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, tilting $lucatheir head. "I doubt your mother would have named you after Safina. The two can't stand each other." //That's right,// you think. //Safina is Parim's and Aurora's mother.// Was. //She// was //their mother.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Helia">>\ "My name is Helia," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, tilting $lucatheir head. "Well, she is a sweet woman. Better than that pit of vipers your father calls his consorts, anyway. But that name doesn't belong to you, does it?" //That's right,// you think. //Helia is my father's newest consort.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Solis">>\ "My name is Solis," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, tilting $lucatheir head. "An understandable mistake, I suppose. You are flesh and blood after all." //That's right,// you think. //Solis is my father's name.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Phoebe">>\ "My name is Phoebe," you say, and while that name sounds familiar to you, it doesn't sound right. "Is it now?" Luca asks, tilting $lucatheir head. "An understandable mistake, I suppose. You are flesh and blood after all." //That's right,// you think. //Phoebe is my mother's name.// <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<elseif $mcname is "Novan">>\ "My name is Novan," you say, although that immediately doesn't sound right. Luca's silhouette flickers darkly. "No. No, that isn't right." "Do you know someone by that name?" you ask, giving $lucathem an odd look. Luca shakes $lucatheir head. "No...I just have a feeling, I suppose. The owner of that name...their thread of fate is connected to yours." $lucaThey shakes $lucathemself off, moving on before you can press $lucathem further. <<link '"Try again," $lucathey says.' 'Chp1-1.4ReenterName'>><</link>> <<else>>\ “$mcname Al’Teia,” you say, confidently. Luca's silhouette flickers. “And do I know you by any other name?” $lucathey asks. <div class="choice">[[Yes. Those close to me sometimes refer to me by another name.|Chp1-1.5yes]]</div> <div class="choice"><<link 'No, $mcname is what I am called.' 'Chp1-1.6'>><</link>></div> <<endif>>\

“And that is?” <<textbox "$mcnickname" "Your nickname" "Chp1-1.6">>

<<if $mcnickname>>\ "$mcnickname," you answer. <<else>>\ <<set $mcnickname to "$mcname">>\ <<endif>>\ \ Luca’s silhouette becomes a little more focused, more solid. “$mcnickname, then. Good,” $lucathey says. “But would you recognize yourself?” The air in front of you seems to shimmer and ripple like the crystal waters of the fountains you and Luca used to play in long ago, and you have to force yourself to swallow the lump rising in your throat. //Focus.// You concentrate on the reflection before you and soon [[you recognize a face staring back at you.|Chp1-1.7Character Creator]]

The face before me belongs to a… <label><<radiobutton "$gender" "man" checked>>Man.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$gender" "woman">>Woman.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$gender" "person">>Person.</label> And this figure uses what title? <label><<radiobutton "$title" "prince" checked>>Prince.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$title" "princess">>Princess.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$title" "princeps">>Princeps.</label> And among siblings, this figure prefers to be referred to as...? <label><<radiobutton "$sibling" "brother" checked>>Brother.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$sibling" "sister">>Sister.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$sibling" "sibling">>Sibling.</label> And among parents, this figure prefers to be referred to as...? <label><<radiobutton "$child" "son" checked>>Son.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$child" "daughter">>Daughter.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$child" "child">>Child.</label> [[Continue|Chp1-1.7.1]]

<<set $Title to $title.toUpperFirst()>>\ <<set $Sibling to $sibling.toUpperFirst()>>\ <<set $Child to $child.toUpperFirst()>>\ The figure uses what pronouns? <div class="choice">[[They/them/theirs|Chp1-1.7.2][$plural to true,$they to "they",$them to "them",$their to "their",$theirs to "theirs",$themself to "themself"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[He/him/his|Chp1-1.7.2][$plural to false,$they to "he",$them to "him",$their to "his",$theirs to "his",$themself to "himself"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[She/her/hers|Chp1-1.7.2][$plural to false,$they to "she",$them to "her",$their to "her",$theirs to "hers",$themself to "herself"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Xe/xem/xyrs|Chp1-1.7.2][$plural to false,$they to "xe",$them to "xem",$their to "xyr",$theirs to "xyrs",$themself to "xemself"]]</div>

<<if not ($hairlength is "bald")>>\ The color of your hair is… <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "blonde" checked>>Blonde.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "strawberry blonde">>Strawberry blonde.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "golden">>Golden.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "ginger">>Ginger.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "red">>Red.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "light brown">>Light brown.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "dark brown">>Dark brown.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "black">>Black.</label> And the texture is… <label><<radiobutton "$hairtexture" "silky" checked>>Silky.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairtexture" "straight">>Straight.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairtexture" "wavy">>Wavy.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairtexture" "curly">>Curly.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairtexture" "loose coils">>Loosely coiled.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairtexture" "tight coils">>Tightly coiled.</label> <<endif>>\ \ <<if not ($hairlength is "bald") and not ($hairlength is "shaved")>>\ And how is the figure's hair styled? <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "traditional" checked>>In the traditional manner of Theian royalty, ornately styled around gold bangles.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "none">>Loose and unstyled or minimally styled.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "ponytail">>Tied back or up.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "ponytails">>Tied back or up in two or more ponytails.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "bun">>In a bun.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "buns">>In two or more buns.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "braid">>In a braid.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "braids">>In two or more braids.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "dreads">>In dreadlocks.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "cornrows">>In cornrows.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "headscarf">>Covered with a head covering.</label> <<endif>>\ \ <<if ($hairlength is "bald") or ($hairlength is "shaved")>>\ The face before me is... <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "headscarf" checked>>...wearing a head covering.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairstyle" "none">>...not wearing a head covering.</label> <<endif>>\ \ The figure before me is... <label><<radiobutton "$height" "very short" checked>>Very short.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$height" "short">>Short.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$height" "average">>Of average height.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$height" "tall">>Tall.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$height" "very tall">>Very tall.</label> And the figure's physique is... <label><<radiobutton "$build" "slender" checked>>Slender.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$build" "lean">>Lean.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$build" "lanky">>Lanky.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$build" "average">>Average.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$build" "muscular">>Muscular.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$build" "stout">>Stout.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$build" "chubby">>Chubby.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$build" "curvaceous">>Curvaceous.</label> [[Continue|Chp1-1.7.4]]

<<set $They to $they.toUpperFirst(), $Their to $their.toUpperFirst()>>\ The face before me has a complexion that is… <label><<radiobutton "$skin" "very fair" checked>>Very fair.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skin" "fair">>Fair.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skin" "beige">>Beige.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skin" "tan">>Tan.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skin" "light brown">>Light brown.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skin" "brown">>Brown.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skin" "dark brown">>Dark brown.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skin" "black">>Black.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skin" "deep black">>Deep black.</label> With eyes that are... <label><<radiobutton "$eye" "green" checked>>Green.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eye" "blue">>Blue.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eye" "brown">>Brown.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eye" "gray">>Gray.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eye" "black">>Black.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eye" "red">>Red.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eye" "yellow">>Yellow.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eye" "gold">>Gold.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eye" "purple">>Purple.</label> And hair that is... <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "bald" checked>>Bald.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "shaved">>Shaved.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "very short">>Very short.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "short">>Short.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "medium">>Medium-length.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "long">>Long.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" " very long">>Very long.</label> [[Continue|Chp1-1.7.3]]

''Name:'' $mcname ''Nickname:'' $mcnickname ''Gender:'' $gender ''Title:'' $title ''Familial (sibling):'' $sibling ''Familial (child):'' $child ''Prounouns:'' $they/$them/$theirs ''Complexion:'' $skin ''Eye color:'' $eye ''Hair length:'' $hairlength <<if not ($hairlength is "bald")>>\ ''Hair color:'' $haircolor ''Hair texture:'' $hairtexture <<endif>>\ ''Hair style:'' $hairstyle ''Height:'' $height ''Build:'' $build “So, is this you?” Luca asks you. <div class="choice">[[Yes, this is me.|Chp1-1.8]]</div> <div class="choice">[[No, I don’t recognize this face. I want to start over.|Chp1-1.7Character Creator]]</div> <div class="choice">[[I recognize this face, but I want to change my name.|Chp1-1.7.4ChangeName]]</div>

The fog in your head parts, your vision becoming sharp and clear. Your nausea eases away and the throb in your head fades to a distant, dull ache. You breathe out a sigh of relief and Luca swipes a hand through the air, dissolving your reflection. Beside you $lucathey sits solid and tangible, a tattered brown cloak drawn around $lucatheir shoulders. Narrow citrine yellow eyes peer up at you from under sharp angled bangs, $lucatheir dark brown hair hanging loose and choppy over $lucatheir chest, as if $lucathey had cut it $lucathemself with a pair of scissors far too big for $lucatheir hands—which, knowing Luca, $lucathey probably had. “Took you long enough,” says Luca. You smile. “Thank you, my friend,” you say, reaching out to tousle $lucatheir hair. A gentle blush blossoms up like watercolor over $lucatheir porcelain cheeks. $lucaThey averts $lucatheir gaze. “Right. Well. Not like you could’ve done it without me,” $lucathey mutters, busying $lucathemself with plucking at a frayed thread on $lucatheir singed beige sleeves. //And you are more right than you know,// you think to yourself. Luca’s long bangs shift slightly as you pull your hand away, revealing those places where flame melted flesh. Sometimes, when your nightmares are especially cruel or perhaps when you are just in a mood to self-torture, Luca appears before you with charred and mottled skin, hungry flames still not finished feeding on $lucatheir flesh—which you suppose is more realistic. The fire in Lord Sandstrider’s manor was merciless, after all, leaving you with not even a body to mourn. Your smile falters and you look away, guiltily. Luca frowns. “I’m sorry,” you say. “We’re not getting into this right now.” “I—” “Don’t," $lucathey says, voice soft but firm. "I am in no mood to play your tormentor tonight. You do well enough a job of that by yourself.” You go quiet at that. After a pause, you nod in understanding, and force a smile. “You say that like you did not enjoy tormenting me constantly at the palace when we were children, always teasing me or dunking me in the fountains. I think you quite like being mean.” $lucaThey smirks. “I seem to remember plenty of instances where it was the other way around.” “Your memory must be faulty then, surely. I am and always have been a perfect model of decorum.” “It seems the definition of decorum must have changed drastically since last I checked. You better embody the definition of...” $lucaThey pauses for a moment, tapping a finger to $lucatheir chin thoughfully. "...boorish. Uncouth. Uncivilized. Unmannered. I could go on." You raise a hand to your chest in mock offense. “It’s in rather ill taste to insult a $title, you know? I could have you flogged for that.” $lucaThey shrugs. “Go ahead, if it makes you feel better. Add to the collection.” $lucaThey gestures to the scars marring $lucatheir face, with a lopsided grin. Your expression falters and Luca’s smile immediately falls. “I’m sorry,” $lucathey whispers. You are silent for a few moments before you speak again. “Did you suffer?” you ask quietly, as you always do. “No,” Luca lies, as $lucathey always does. A heavy silence descends over the two of you. Luca plucks self-consciously at a hole in $lucatheir pants, studiously avoiding your gaze. “What do you think it means?” You ask after a while. Luca looks up. “Hm? What does what mean?” <<if $lookaway is false>>\ “The wolf,” you say. Next to you, Luca fidgets. You can’t seem to get the image of the beast snapping Parim’s neck with a quick, cruel twist of its jaws out of your head. Your skin prickles with dread and something else when you remember that unblinking stare, those huge yellow eyes. You turn to look at Luca. “Do you think it’s an omen of some kind?” <<else>>\ “The wolf,” you say. Next to you, Luca fidgets. You can’t seem to get the sound of the beast snapping Parim’s neck with a quick, cruel twist of its jaws out of your head. Your skin prickles with dread and something else when you remember that unblinking stare, those huge yellow eyes. You turn to look at Luca. “Do you think it’s an omen of some kind?” <<endif>>\ Luca shrugs stiffly. “I don’t know,” $lucathey says. “Maybe.” “I just have a bad feeling.” “You always have a bad feeling.” “So do you, usually. You’ve been quiet. Quieter than usual.” You shoot Luca a questioning look. “Where were you this time? While you were gone.” “I don’t remember.” “That’s what you say every time.” “Because it’s true.” "You said you would look into the shadow I was seeing. The wolf." "I did," Luca agrees. "So?" "So?" You feel your temper flare. "Are you being difficult on purpose? Did you find anything out?" Luca heaves a bone-weary sigh. "No. I don't know. I can't really remember." You start to protest, but Luca cuts you off. “I am tired,” $lucathey says. “I wish to sleep. You should probably be waking soon, anyway.” $lucaThey moves to stand, but you catch $lucathem by the elbow. “Wait,” you say. Luca looks back at you. You want to press $lucathem further, but after a few moments, you sigh in defeat. You are tired, too. “Don’t go. Not yet. Stay with me. Just a little while longer.” “Alright,” $lucathey agrees softly, settling back down cross-legged. You lay down and Luca guides your head back down to $lucatheir lap. You breathe in, and $lucathey smells of tree bark and sand, just as $lucathey did when you were children. It is a bit odd, you think, to watch yourself age over the years while Luca looks the same as ever. Some part of it brings you a small comfort, as if you could pretend nothing had changed and you were both carefree children. And another part of it pains you everytime you look at $lucathem, knowing $lucathey will never get the chance to grow up. $lucaThey used to say $lucathey wanted to travel when $lucathey was older; $lucathey'd made you promise to come with. $lucaThey doesn't speak much of such things anymore. You close your eyes. “You should sing me a lullaby,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips as you imagine the annoyed frown forming on Luca’s face. “You’re supposed to be waking up while //I// go to sleep,” $lucathey scoffs. “//You// should be singing //me// a lullaby.” “Do you want me to?” You crack an eye open to peek up at $lucathem. $lucaThey flushes. “No,” $lucathey says flatly. “Then //you// sing for //me//.” “I don’t sing.” "Sure you do. You've sang at my birthday parties, when we were both children. I remember." "That's different." "How so?" "Everyone else was singing, too." "Ah, so it's singing //alone// you're afraid of," you note. Luca glares at you, $lucatheir cheeks heating. "I don't sing," $lucathey repeats. “Hum then.” Luca sighs. “You’re relentless. Fine.” $lucaThey is quiet for several long moments before $lucathey settles on humming a simple melody that brings with it memories of bright sunny days spent hanging upside down in olive trees watching the hoop dancers, of swimming in the palace fountains after courtly lessons, of you and a dark-haired yellow-eyed $lucagender chasing your siblings through the palace gardens, laughter ringing out among you as you flitted like twittering birds between cactus plants and desert palms. Luca’s fingers still stroke your cheek absently, $lucatheir mellow voice still humming along and you chance one last glimpse at your oldest friend, catching a troubled expression on $lucatheir face before you finally drift off, your vision dissolving like sand scattered upon the wind. <<fadestart>><<link "Continue">><<passagefade "Chp1-1.9WakeUpWithFarah" 3000>><</link>>

"My name is..." <<textbox "$mcname" "Your name" "Chp1-1.7.4ChangeNickname">>

"And those close to me call me..." <<textbox "$mcnickname" "Your nickname" "Chp1-1.8">>

"I am..." <<textbox "$mcname" "Your name" "Chp1-1.5">> <<link 'See suggestions for gender neutral names.'>> <<script>> Dialog.setup('Gender Neutral Names'); Dialog.wiki(Story.get('gender neutral names').processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <<link 'See suggestions for male names.'>> <<script>> Dialog.setup('Male Names'); Dialog.wiki(Story.get('male names').processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>> <<link 'See suggestions for female names.'>> <<script>> Dialog.setup('Female Names'); Dialog.wiki(Story.get('female names').processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>>

You startle as you wake, your head jerking up as it slips from your propped up fist. You throw an arm out to steady yourself before you fall backwards and scatter several of your papers as you do so. A sizeable stack of envelopes slide off the top of your head to the floor as well. Your Theian serval, Farwah, yawns and stretches languidly across your lap. He stands, giving you a grumpy, tired look, before retreating to a far corner of the room, where he circles a few times before plopping down, falling promptly back asleep. Someone snickers quietly. You glance up, wild-eyed and heart racing, fearing you must have fallen asleep rather rudely during another council meeting, but you relax somewhat when you realize it is only your little sister who sits across from you in your bedroom. "Farah," you breathe, letting out a sigh of relief and taking a moment to regain your composure. The last remnants of dread from your dream settle low in the pit of your stomach like tea dregs. "How long have I been asleep?" She shrugs. "An hour, maybe." She plucks an envelope off of the ground. "I was seeing how many letters I could balance on your head before you woke up." "How many—never mind that. You said an //hour//?!" She nods. "Why didn't you wake me?" "You seemed like you needed the sleep." You scrub a hand over your face, looking over the parchment strewn across the floor and start shuffling them back up into a pile. You had hoped you could work through this stack of correspondence before the end of the day, and now you're behind an entire hour. Farah gets on her knees to help you scoop up the remaining papers. "It was only an hour," she says, looking at you askance from behind a curtain of long red-brown hair. "I didn't think it would be a big deal..." <div class="choice">[['"Next time, wake me up please."'|Chp1-1.9.1]]</div> <div class="choice"><<link '"It\'s alright. It\'s not a big deal."' 'Chp1-1.9.2'>><</link>></div>

You let out a frustrated sigh. You have been exhausted and overworked since returning to the palace, and while you know rationally that it isn't Farah's fault, you cannot help the irritation from bubbling up. "It's fine," you huff. "Just wake me up next time, please." You gather up the last papers, smacking them against the tea table a bit too aggressively in your effort to straighten out your stack. Farah eyes you warily from your periphery. "Sorry," she mutters. A twinge of guilt tugs at your chest, but you remain quiet, settling back on your seat cushion and folding your legs criss-crossed beneath you. Farah sits down without a word across from you. Since your return, you have been having a difficult time getting all of your work done with her constantly clinging to you and following you everywhere. She's never been able to sit still or stay quiet for long, making it difficult for you to concentrate, but you know she's been lonely while you and the rest of your siblings were away, and most days you just don't have the heart to refuse her company. Regrettably, the more she follows you around the less work you are able to finish and you've had to pull several all-nighters just to finish your responsibilities. As such, you've been more irritable as of late, and sometimes you cannot help lashing out even when you don't mean to. [[Continue|Chp1-1.10]]

"No," you say, your shoulders sagging tiredly. "I'm sorry. It's fine, Farah. It's not a big deal." "Okay..." she says, though she doesn't sound very convinced, and keeps eyeing you warily out of your periphery as you gather up the last papers, smacking them against the tea table a bit too aggressively in your effort to straighten out your stack. You settle back on your seat cushion, folding your legs criss-crossed beneath you. Farah sits down without a word across from you. Since your return, you have been having a difficult time getting all of your work done with her constantly clinging to you and following you everywhere. She's never been able to sit still or stay quiet for long, making it difficult for you to concentrate, but you know she's been lonely while you and the rest of your siblings were away, and most days you just don't have the heart to refuse her company. Regrettably, the more she follows you around the less work you are able to finish and you've had to pull several all-nighters just to finish your responsibilities. As such, you've been more irritable as of late. You glance up to find Farah watching you. You offer her a small tired smile. "It's fine, Farah. Really." [[Continue|Chp1-1.10]]

You pick up back where you left off before you'd drifed off to sleep and sift through the stack of letters until you happen upon an envelope in your favorite color, <<cycle "$favcolor" autoselect>>\ <<option "red." "red">> <<option "orange." "orange">> <<option "yellow." "yellow">> <<option "green." "green">> <<option "blue." "blue">> <<option "purple." "purple">> <<option "pink." "pink">> <<option "black." "black">> <<option "brown." "brown">> <<option "gray." "gray">> <<option "white." "white">> <</cycle>> “What’s that?” Farah leans across the low table between you, her long braids trailing over the table as she cranes her neck to get a glimpse at the letter you’re holding. At eleven years old now, she has grown so much since you last saw her, her latest growth spurt having stretched her tiny frame into long, lanky limbs that stick awkwardly out of her sleeveless red silk tunic. Her own body must seem awkward and unfamiliar to her as well, given the way her elbow bumps into your teacup for the fifth time this afternoon. Your free hand darts out to stabilize it before it spills over the clutter of correspondence laid out before you. [[Continue|Chp1-1.11]]

“Farah,” you say, not glancing up from your letter. “What have I told you about leaning over the tea table while I’m working?” “Sorry,” she mumbles, and to her credit, she has the decency to look somewhat chastised as she slumps back to sit cross-legged on her cushion, an indignant flush painting her sand-colored cheeks. She gestures to the $favcolor envelope you’d pulled the letter from, nearly knocking the teapot—painted with indigo birds—over, which you quickly steady. “Is that from Nour?” You nod. You always knew when a letter was from your older $sibling Nour just by the color of the envelope—$they liked to seal $their letters in people’s favorite color. Normally, Nour would have spoken to you about the letter's contents in person, but since becoming heir to the throne $they <<have>>n't had much time to meet with you or Farah face-to-face, always stuck in council meetings or parleying with bickering nobles. In fact, since your return to the palace, you've hardly seen Nour at all. $They even had to pass $their letter off to $their retainer, Zain, who handed it to your retainer, Aurynn, who then handed it to you. You know the letter must be important for Nour to trouble Zain with such a mundane task as delivering correspondence. “What’s it say?” Farah leans across the table again and you have to put a hand on her forehead and push her back into her seat. “Let me read it, will you?” Farah huffs and props her elbows up on the table, cupping her chin in both hands. Even without looking up, you can feel her cool gray eyes burning a hole through your head. The corners of your lips quirk up, but you ignore her and draw a sip from your teacup—<<cycle "$favtea" autoselect>>\ <<option "chai" "chai">> <<option "chamomile" "chamomile">> <<option "peppermint" "peppermint">> <<option "hibiscus" "hibiscus">> <<option "matcha" "matcha">> <<option "ginger" "ginger">> <<option "cinnamon" "cinnamon">> <<option "black tea" "black">> <<option "white tea" "white">> <<option "green tea" "green">> <<option "herbal tea" "herbal">> <<option "oolong" "oolong">> <<option "rooibos" "rooibos">> <</cycle>> with <<cycle "$favteamixin" autoselect>>\ <<option "honey" "honey">> <<option "mint" "mint">> <<option "lemon" "lemon">> <<option "sugar" "sugar">> <<option "milk" "milk">> <<option "almond milk" "almond milk">> <<option "oat milk" "oat milk">> <<option "soy milk" "soy milk">> <<option "coconut milk" "coconut milk">> <<option "ginger" "ginger">> <<option "cinnamon" "cinnamon">> <<option "nothing else" "nothing else">> <</cycle>>—only to frown when you realize it’s gone cold by now. <div class="choice">[[Luckily, you’ve always found fire magic comes easy to you and you rewarm the tea.|Chp1-1.11.1Fire]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Unfortunately for you at this moment, fire magic was not among the powers that manifested for you as you matured. Like your mother, your powers have always been more subtle, making you adept at illusory magic.|Chp1-1.11.2Illusion]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Unfortunately for you at this moment, fire magic was not among the powers that manifested for you as you matured. You’ve always been better at healing and protective magic.|Chp1-1.11.3Healing]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Unfortunately for you at this moment, fire magic was not among the powers that manifested for you as you matured. You’ve always been better at gravitational manipulation.|Chp1-1.11.3Gravitational]]</div>

While you are primarily proficient in the art of divination and foresight, you also have always had a natural affinity for fire magic. Summoning and manipulating flames comes effortlessly to you, as does wielding sunlight itself, at times with the gentleness and warmth of a sunbeam and at others with the scorching intensity of the most unforgiving desert suns. Does this sound right? <div class="choice">[[Yes.|FireConfirm]]</div> <div class="choice">[[No, I excel at something else.|RepromptMagicAsk]]</div>

While you are primarily proficient in the art of divination and foresight, you—like your mother—have always had a natural affinity for illusory magic. You can tap into people’s thoughts and emotions, influencing how they perceive the world around them. Creating illusions is no large feat for you—you manipulate and bend light to your whim, influencing it to take shape. Does this sound right? <div class="choice">[[Yes.|IllusionConfirm]]</div> <div class="choice">[[No, I excel at something else.|RepromptMagicAsk]]</div>

While you are primarily proficient in the art of divination and foresight, you also have a natural affinity for healing and protective magic. You wield sunlight with all the gentleness of a sunbeam, coaxing flesh to mend and fevers to break. Your magic is at once warm and forgiving, but also severe and remorseless, punishing those who would seek to break wards you cast to protect those under your care with all the blazing intensity of an inferno. Does this sound right? <div class="choice">[[Yes.|HealingConfirm]]</div> <div class="choice">[[No, I excel at something else.|RepromptMagicAsk]]</div>

<<set $magic to "fire">>\ Yes, fire magic has always been your forte, much like Nour. You wince when you catch yourself almost thinking //And Ember.// A persistent lump rises in your throat and you struggle for a moment to swallow it down, earning you a confused yet concerned glance from Farah. You offer her a tight smile. It does not seem to reassure her. Clearing your mind of those lingering threads of guilt and grief takes a moment longer, but afterwards you direct your focus to your cold tea. Cupping your palms around your teacup, the veins in your hand begin to glow a soft gold and you feel the cup begin to warm within your hands. After a moment, you inhale the comforting scent of your tea—carried up to you on a trail of rising steam. You take a sip and it warms you to your toes, warmth pooling in your stomach, as gentle and as pleasant as an afternoon sunbeam. Feeling slightly reinvigorated, you return your attention to Nour’s letter. [[Continue|Chp1-1.12]]

<div class="choice">[[Luckily, you’ve always found fire magic comes easy to you and you rewarm the tea.|Chp1-1.11.1Fire]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Unfortunately for you at this moment, fire magic was not among the powers that manifested for you as you matured. Like your mother, your powers have always been more subtle, making you adept at illusory magic.|Chp1-1.11.2Illusion]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Unfortunately for you at this moment, fire magic was not among the powers that manifested for you as you matured. You’ve always been better at healing and protective magic.|Chp1-1.11.3Healing]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Unfortunately for you at this moment, fire magic was not among the powers that manifested for you as you matured. You’ve always been better at gravitational manipulation.|Chp1-1.11.3Gravitational]]</div>

<<set $magic to "illusion">>\ Yes, illusory magic has always been your forte. Unfortunately, that does you little good when it comes to fixing cold tea. You sigh, wishing at this moment Nour was here to warm your tea for you. You wince when you catch yourself almost thinking //Or Ember.// A persistent lump rises in your throat and you struggle for a moment to swallow it down, earning you a confused yet concerned glance from Farah. You offer her a tight smile. It does not seem to reassure her. Clearing your mind of those lingering threads of guilt and grief takes a moment longer, but afterwards you set your teacup down with a resigned sigh, directing your attention back to Nour’s letter. [[Continue|Chp1-1.12]]

<<set $magic to "healing">>\ Yes, healing and warding has always been your forte. Unfortunately, that does you little good when it comes to fixing cold tea. You sigh, wishing at this moment Nour was here to warm your tea for you. You wince when you catch yourself almost thinking //Or Ember.// A persistent lump rises in your throat and you struggle for a moment to swallow it down, earning you a confused yet concerned glance from Farah. You offer her a tight smile. It does not seem to reassure her. Clearing your mind of those lingering threads of guilt and grief takes a moment longer, but afterwards you set your teacup down with a resigned sigh, directing your attention back to Nour’s letter. [[Continue|Chp1-1.12]]

You’d have drawn the curtains to let in the afternoon light to read by—you always enjoyed the way it paints your room in fiery shades of gold and amber. And when the light catches the gold embroidery on the fluttering ruby curtains, the room glitters like desert sand. However, today you cannot seem to chase away a rather persistent migraine, and so you’ve holed yourself up in your dark dreary room doing endless paperwork by the dim light of a few burning candles, one of which you shift slightly closer to to illuminate your parchment as you begin to read. <<if not $favteamixin is "honey">>\ The contents seem innocuous enough upon first glance—a simple request for the pleasure of your company for afternoon tea under the gazebo in the palace gardens, just the two of you. Nour finishes the letter off with the words, //I'll prepare your tea with honey, just as you like it.// Nour knows well you prefer your tea with $favteamixin, but you and your siblings have been using that line as code for //'Come alone. I need to talk to you about something serious.'// for ages now. $They must wish to speak with you about something rather pressing. Something $they <<do>>n't want others to know about, or $they wouldn't have bothered using that little code. $They must have been concerned about someone reading your letter. <<else>>\ The contents seem innocuous enough upon first glance—a simple request for the pleasure of your company for afternoon tea under the gazebo in the palace gardens, just the two of you. Nour finishes the letter off with the words, //I'll prepare your tea with milk, just as you like it.// Nour knows well you prefer your tea with $favteamixin, but you and your siblings have been using that line as code for //'Come alone. I need to talk to you about something serious.'// for ages now. $They must wish to speak with you about something rather pressing. Something $they <<do>>n't want others to know about, or $they wouldn't have bothered using that little code. $They must have been concerned about someone reading your letter. <<endif>>\ You glance at the clock mounted over your bed, chewing your lip. You'll have to leave now if you want to meet Nour on time in the gardens. “Well?” Farah looks at you expectantly. You sigh, tiredly scrubbing a hand over your face. A mountain of paperwork is still strewn about the table before you, but you’ll have to put off completing it for now. “I’m sorry, Farah, but I have to get to a meeting now,” you say, gathering up your papers into a pile. “Don’t linger in here too long, please. I can’t have you burning my room down again.” You stand and your sister scrambles to her feet as well. “That was only one time. And it was only a teensy tiny fire,” She follows you to the polished wooden cabinet across from your bed, where you file your papers away for later. You raise an eyebrow at her. “//Teensy tiny// fires don’t destroy entire bookcases—” “I managed to put it out eventually!” “—full of //exceedingly rare, priceless, limited edition// books.” Farah crosses her arms, her lower lip thrust out in a pout. “I said I was sorry.” You roll your eyes and go to pat her head but she ducks under your hand. Closing the cabinet, you turn on your heel and make your way to the mirror to quickly fix your appearance. <div class="choice">[[Your ornate floor length mirror, embossed with delicate gold trim and flowering rubies, allows you to admire your entire figure, one you are quite pleased with aside from the tired dark circles under your eyes.|OrnateMirror]]</div> <div class="choice">[[A modest mirror sits mounted atop your vanity. You have no strong feelings regarding your appearance; you aren’t self-conscious but you don’t love the way you look either.|ModestMirror]]</div> <div class="choice">[[You keep a small simplistic mirror hidden away in your wardrobe, which you only ever use to touch up your face before leaving your room. You do not like your appearance.|HiddenMirror]]</div>

<<set $appearance to "confident">>\ A great many battle scars adorn your figure, but you've grown to like the way they look. Your face may not be pretty and pristine in the sense that others at court are—untarnished by sun, sand, or steel, but you are <<cycle "$pretty" autoselect>>\ <<option "pretty" "pretty">> <<option "beautiful" "beautiful">> <<option "handsome" "handsome">> <<option "lovely" "lovely">> <</cycle>> all the same. You carry yourself with confidence. You've always taken great pride in your appearance. Indeed, even when mucking about in the dirt with the other soldiers, you always maintained more than a modicum of decorum. You may have been stuck out in the field, always covered in blood, sand, and dirt, but by Theia's grace you would be the fairest soldier on that wretched battlefield. Eventually even your soldiers began referring to you as the //'Jewel of Theia.'// <<if not ($hairlength is "bald") and not ($hairlength is "shaved") and not ($hairstyle is "headscarf")>>\ You take several moments to readjust your <<cycle "$clothes" autoselect>>\ <<option "dress" "dress">> <<option "robes" "robes">> <<option "tunic" "tunic">> <<option "shirt" "shirt">> <</cycle>> and tuck every strand of hair into its proper place before turning around to face Farah. <<elseif $hairstyle is "headscarf">>\ You take several moments to readjust your <<cycle "$clothes" autoselect>>\ <<option "dress" "dress">> <<option "robes" "robes">> <<option "tunic" "tunic">> <<option "shirt" "shirt">> <</cycle>> and secure your headscarf into its proper place before turning around to face Farah. <<else>>\ You take several moments to readjust your <<cycle "$clothes" autoselect>>\ <<option "dress" "dress">> <<option "robes" "robes">> <<option "tunic" "tunic">> <<option "shirt" "shirt">> <</cycle>>, ensuring everything is in its proper place before turning around to face Farah. <<endif>>\ [[Continue|Chp1-1.13]]

<<set $appearance to "selfconscious">>\ A great many battle scars mar your figure, and while you never had much time to worry over your appearance during your time on the battlefield, now you feel you cannot go anywhere without being conscious of how you look. Being back at the palace, you can never quite escape your own reflection. You see your face reflected back to you in the polished marble columns lining the corridors, in the garden’s bubbling fountains, in your goblet at dinner. The people at court are not soldiers; their faces are pretty and pristine, untarnished by sun, sand, or steel. You feel dirty and unsightly compared to them, as though you can never quite wash away the grime from the battlefield or the dirt and blood from beneath your nails. You hate your scars, as they will forever serve as a reminder of all you've endured, all you've lost. Smoothing a hand over your face, you scrub at the dark circles under your tired eyes. You would prefer not to use your mirror at all, but you must maintain some sense of dignity in your appearance, being a $title. If not for yourself, then to avoid your mother pulling you aside to fuss over your image and chastise you for your lack of sensibility for form and countenance. <<if not ($hairlength is "bald") and not ($hairlength is "shaved") and not ($hairstyle is "headscarf")>>\ You readjust your <<cycle "$clothes" autoselect>>\ <<option "dress" "dress">> <<option "robes" "robes">> <<option "tunic" "tunic">> <<option "shirt" "shirt">> <</cycle>> and smooth out your hair, all while studiously avoiding looking at your own face. <<elseif $hairstyle is "headscarf">>\ You readjust your <<cycle "$clothes" autoselect>>\ <<option "dress" "dress">> <<option "robes" "robes">> <<option "tunic" "tunic">> <<option "shirt" "shirt">> <</cycle>> and straighten out your headscarf, all while studiously avoiding looking at your own face. <<else>>\ You readjust your <<cycle "$clothes" autoselect>>\ <<option "dress" "dress">> <<option "robes" "robes">> <<option "tunic" "tunic">> <<option "shirt" "shirt">> <</cycle>> all while studiously avoiding looking at your own face. <<endif>>\ “You don’t have to worry so much,” Farah says quietly from behind you. “You look <<cycle "$pretty" autoselect>>\ <<option "pretty." "pretty">> <<option "beautiful." "beautiful">> <<option "handsome." "handsome">> <<option "lovely." "lovely">> <</cycle>>" You catch her looking at you in the mirror and you quickly shut the wardrobe and turn to look at her with a gentle smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thank you, Farah.” She frowns, but doesn't push the issue, which you are grateful for. [[Continue|Chp1-1.13]]

<<set $appearance to "apathetic">>\ Once, long ago, you had spent your days preening and grooming yourself to play the proper, <<cycle "$pretty" autoselect>>\ <<option "pretty," "pretty">> <<option "beautiful," "beautiful">> <<option "handsome," "handsome">> <<option "lovely," "lovely">> <</cycle>> $title, always aware of people's eyes on you, even as a child. A $title is expected to be pleasing to the eye and so that is what you were. Your time as a commander—more importantly, as a soldier—put you in a position where you did not have the time nor the energy to care about cosmetics. While you would always be expected to maintain a certain degree of decorum appropriate to your station, you, like everyone else, were dirty, bloodstained and covered in scars. There was little point in so diligently maintaining your appearance when no one really cared, so you stopped caring as well. <<if not ($hairlength is "bald") and not ($hairlength is "shaved") and not ($hairstyle is "headscarf")>>\ Now, being back at the palace, you find it difficult to shake this habit, much to your mother's frustration. You maintain your appearance only to the minimum required of the dignity your station demands, but you no longer have any interest in fussing over every strand of hair or bothering with things like makeup or face paints like others at court do. You smooth a hand over your face, rubbing at the dark circles under your tired eyes. You smooth your hair down and readjust your askew <<cycle "$clothes" autoselect>>\ <<option "dress" "dress">> <<option "robes" "robes">> <<option "tunic" "tunic">> <<option "shirt" "shirt">> <</cycle>> before turning away from the vanity to face Farah. <<elseif $hairstyle is "headscarf">>\ Now, being back at the palace, you find it difficult to shake this habit, much to your mother's frustration. You maintain your appearance only to the minimum required for the dignity your station demands, but you no longer have any interest in fussing over every wrinkle in your clothes or bothering with things like makeup or face paints like others at court. You smooth a hand over your face, rubbing at the dark circles under your tired eyes. You straighten out your headscarf and readjust your askew <<cycle "$clothes" autoselect>>\ <<option "dress" "dress">> <<option "robes" "robes">> <<option "tunic" "tunic">> <<option "shirt" "shirt">> <</cycle>> before turning away from the vanity to face Farah. <<else>>\ Now, being back at the palace, you find it difficult to shake this habit, much to your mother's frustration. You maintain your appearance only to the minimum required for the dignity your station demands, but you no longer have any interest in fussing over every wrinkle in your clothes or bothering with things like makeup or face paints like others at court. You smooth a hand over your face, rubbing at the dark circles under your tired eyes. You readjust your askew <<cycle "$clothes" autoselect>>\ <<option "dress" "dress">> <<option "robes" "robes">> <<option "tunic" "tunic">> <<option "shirt" "shirt">> <</cycle>> before turning away from the vanity to face Farah. <<endif>>\ [[Continue|Chp1-1.13]]

"I've got to get going now," you say. "Don't dally in here, alright?" “You’re meeting with Nour,” she says. “I want to come too.” “Not this time, Farah.” “Why not?” “This meeting is strictly business. We have important things to discuss.” “I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m there.” “I’m not sure you know how to be quiet, Farah,” you shoot her a teasing grin, expecting her to roll her eyes good-naturedly, but she fixes you instead with an uncharacteristically serious look. You avert your eyes. “I’m sorry. Nour and I just have a few things to discuss in private. I’ll come find you afterward, alright?” Farah stomps her foot, rather childishly, you think. You’d have thought she’d have outgrown that habit by now, though you find some relief that she hasn’t completely grown up while you were away from the palace. She had only been five years old when you had left to join the rest of your siblings in the war effort against Celestyl. Though you had seen her rather infrequently during those six long years of bitter fighting, seeing her so big now had been quite a shock to you at first. That she has retained some of her more immature habits lightens your heart somewhat, as though no time has passed at all and she is still the little girl toddling after you through the palace halls, always underfoot, clinging to your $clothes and hanging from your arms. “What does it even matter if I’m there?” Farah protests, her delicate brows furrowed so tight you want to reach out and ease the knot between them. “I’ll stay out of your way.” "You'll be bored out of your skull. Why don't you go play with Lady Mirage's son, Magnus?" Farah scowls, gritting her teeth, and your brow knits in confusion. She’s always gotten along with Magnus since they were both very young; it isn’t like the suggestion should come as a shock. “I don’t want to play with Magnus.” she says. “He’s stupid anyway.” "Did you two get into a fight?" Farah clenches her fists. "We aren't friends anymore." “Why? What’s wrong with Magnus? You two have always gotten along.” “Yeah, well things change.” “What’s changed?” "//Everything's// changed. I want to come with you and Nour." “I told you, Farah, you can’t—” She lets out a screech and picks up your abandoned teacup, hurling it into the wall. It shatters, tea staining the ornate rug splayed out beneath the tea table. You stare at the broken teacup in horror, pieces of indigo wings having landed next to your feet. That belonged to Parim's tea set. In the corner of the room, Farwah grumbles irritatedly at having been woken up again. <div class="choice">[[You bite back your initial shock and force yourself to keep calm. You don’t understand why she’s acting out like this.|Chp1-1.13staycalm]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Your head aches and you are exhausted. Though you don’t mean to, you snap at her.|Chp1-1.13snap]]</div>

<<set $snappedatfarah to false>>\ Your fists clench at your sides but you keep your voice even and firm. “Nour asked to meet privately. I will find you later and we can talk about…” You gesture vaguely at Farah standing among shards of porcelain. “...this.” “NO! I want to come with you and Nour!” Her voice rises to a shrill scream, making your temples throb. She stamps her foot and you find the gesture less endearing this time. Farah’s face flushes furiously, her fists trembling at her sides. Now more than ever, she looks just like her older brother, Ember, whose fiery temper was rivaled only by Farah’s, and your heart pangs at the thought. Castor had always been best at cooling the two down, his ice cold enough to put out their flames. But with him gone now, you find yourself wishing Nour was here to help you. $They always seemed to know what to say to calm Farah down. “If you think this is supposed to convince me to let you attend, think again. I said no, Farah. I won’t say it again.” [[Continue|Chp1-1.14]]

<<set $snappedatfarah to true>>\ Your temples are pounding, and her screeching is making your headache even worse. You glower at the stained rug, fingernails biting into your palms as you struggle to even out your breathing. “Get out of my room,” you say quietly. Farah simply scowls at you. “No,” she says. “I //said// Get. Out!” your voice rises to a shout, and you jab a finger at the door. She stays rooted to the spot. Farah’s face flushes furiously, her fists trembling at her sides. Now more than ever, she looks just like her older brother, Ember, whose fiery temper was rivaled only by Farah’s, and your heart pangs at the thought. Castor had always been best at cooling the two down, his ice cold enough to put out their flames. But with him gone now, you find yourself wishing Nour was here to help you. $They <<were>> always more patient at dealing with Farah’s temper than you. “I want to come with you and Nour,” she replies, flatly. “I already told you,” you yell. “No!” [[Continue|Chp1-1.14]]

"//No,//" Farah says, sounding the word out slowly, like she is tasting it. She grimaces. Her whole body is trembling, knuckles turned white as she digs her nails into her palms. "No. //No.// No, of //course// you'd say no," Farah seethes. "You //always// say no. You //never// have time." She takes a step forward. "//Neither// of you ever has time. No, //none of you// ever had the time! //'Oh, we're too busy, Farah,'//" She grabs her teacup and flings it against the cabinet, spraying tea and porcelain everywhere. “Hey—!” “//‘Oh, maybe next time, Farah,’//” She screams and picks up the teapot, lifting it over her head. Your breath hitches in panic as you realize what she is about to do and you surge forward to wrestle it from her grasp only for her to sink her teeth into your forearm. You pull back with a yelp and she smashes the teapot against the floor with a loud //CRASH!// Cold tea splatters your legs as you cradle your arm. “What has gotten into you?!” You cry, incredulous and accusatory. "That tea set was Parim's!" Farah tenses at that, her fingers twitching, but she doesn't speak or move. Her head hangs low and her breathing is heavy, her trembling shoulders rising and falling with each ragged breath. Neither of you say anything in the charged silence. The silence is only broken by your bedroom door creaking open just a crack. A head of long silky chestnut hair and copper skin—your retainer, Aurynn—tentatively peeks through the door a moment later, amber eyes flitting warily between you, Farah and the mess of shattered porcelain strewn at your feet. He scans the rest of the room quickly, as if checking for any intruders. Shifting uneasily on both feet, he looks increasingly uncomfortable at having intruded on such a tense and private moment. Farwah gets up and slinks out the open door, snaking through Aurynn's legs, mewing a rather annoyed farewell as he disappears down the hall. "Just, um," he says, glancing at you. Farah does not look up at him, her head still hung low and face shrouded by her hair. "Just making sure no one is getting murdered in here. Which it looks like no one is. Except the china. So I'll just—" He jabs a thumb at the door. Farah finally looks up and you see her eyes are red and puffy, her cheeks stained with tears. She looks you dead in the eyes. “//I hate you,//” she whispers. Then, without another word, she turns on her heel and throws open the door, shoving past a very bewildered Aurynn as she disappears down the hallway, leaving you alone with your retainer in your room, your heart in pieces among the shattered porcelain on the floor. Aurynn is quiet for a few moments, gloved fingers anxiously stroking the polished shaft of his glaive, before he finally pipes up, voice low. "Do you need a minute?" <div class="choice">[[You nod. You need a moment to collect yourself.|Chp1-1.14collectself]]</div> <div class="choice">[[You nod. You feel close to breaking and you don't want him to see you.|Chp1-1.14hide]]</div> <div class="choice">[[You try to answer but only barely manage to choke back a sob.|Chp1-1.14cry]]</div> <div class="choice"><<link 'You shake your head, swallowing any emotion that had been bubbling up and don a mask of composure.' 'Chp1-1.14stoic'>><</link>></div> <div class="choice"><<link 'You shake your head. You\’re fine. You\’re //fine.//' 'Chp1-1.14denial'>><</link>></div> <div class="choice"><<link 'You shake your head, forcing a smile. You\’re fine. You\’re //fine.//' 'Chp1-1.14denialsmile'>><</link>></div> <div class="choice">[[You immediately bristle and order him out of the room.|Chp1-1.14bristle]]</div>

<<set $dignified to $dignified + 1>>\ <<set $straightforward to $straightforward + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Dignified, + Straightforward<</notify>>\ Your face is studiously neutral and you refuse to meet Aurynn's eyes, instead keeping your gaze focused stubbornly in front of you. Too afraid to risk speaking, you nod. Aurynn bows and dips quietly out of the room without another word, his long flowing brown hair trailing behind him as he shuts the door with a soft click. Your eyes flutter several times, threatening tears. You squeeze your eyes shut. It takes you several moments to recompose yourself and to swallow the persistent lump in your throat. When you finally manage to get your breathing under control, you step over the shattered tea set and ease the door open, shutting it quietly behind you. [[Continue|Chp1-1.15]]

<<set $gentle to $gentle + 1>>\ <<set $straightforward to $straightforward + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Gentle, + Straightforward<</notify>>\ You have to bite your lower lip to keep it from trembling. Your eyes sting with unshed tears. Too afraid to risk speaking, you nod. Aurynn bows and dips quietly out of the room without another word, his long flowing brown hair trailing behind him as he shuts the door with a soft click. As soon as he is gone, the tears spill freely from your eyes, rolling over your cheeks and pattering against the rug under your feet like raindrops. You bite down on your fist to stifle your sobs, not wanting to be heard. It takes you several moments to recompose yourself and to swallow the persistent lump in your throat. When you finally manage to get your breathing under control, you step over the shattered tea set and ease the door open, shutting it quietly behind you. [[Continue|Chp1-1.15]]

<<set $gentle to $gentle + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Gentle<</notify>>\ You cannot hold back and soon the tears begin to fall freely, rolling over your cheeks and pattering against the rug under your feet like raindrops. Your shoulders shake with soft sobs. Aurynn slips past the door, stepping carefully over shards of porcelain with sandaled feet until he is standing next to you. He fidgets with a ruby on his glaive for a few moments, before opening his mouth to speak, only to shut it again a moment later. He tries again, trailing off awkwardly. "Do you want...?" <div class="choice">[[You reach for him. You need comfort.|Chp1-1.14cry-reachcomfort]]</div> <div class="choice">[[You don't want anyone to touch you right now, but you want him to stay.|Chp1-1.14cry-stay]]</div> <div class="choice">[[You want comforting but would die before asking for it.|Chp1-1.14cry-comfort]]</div> <div class="choice">[[You gesture for the door. You need a moment alone.|Chp1-1.14cry-alone]]</div>

<<set $dignified to $dignified + 1>>\ <<set $imposing to $imposing + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Dignified, + Imposing<</notify>>\ You close your eyes, a stirring of emotion rises up within your chest, like shifting sand in the wind, but you force it down, pleading with your heart to obey. You swallow the lump in your throat and when you open your eyes, you have donned a dutiful mask of composure. //Dignified and above it all,// as your mother always says. Lifting your chin, you turn to Aurynn. "No," you say. "Let's go. I have a meeting with Nour to get to." Aurynn shoots you a skeptical look, but upon seeing the cold look on your face, he sagely decides not to press the issue. You step over the shattered tea set and ease the door open. Aurynn follows, shutting the door behind you. [[Continue|Chp1-1.15]]

<<set $dignified to $dignified + 1>>\ <<set $gentle to $gentle + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Dignified, + Gentle<</notify>>\ Your eyes slide closed, shuttering off the wreckage around you, but the look on your little sister's face when she told you she hated you is burned into your retinas. You can still see the fragments of your brother's tea set scattered across the rug—that tea set which you two had shared smiles and small talk over. That tea set which your brother had said was his favorite because his mother and your sister Aurora had painted it for him as a gift for his eighteenth birthday. That tea set, which was one of the few things you had left of him. And now it's gone. It's all gone. You take a shuddering breath, swallowing the surge of emotion that threatens to spill, pushing it down, down, down until you cannot feel it. You're fine. You're //fine.// Your face goes blank as you don a dutiful mask of composure. //Dignified and above it all,// as your mother always says. You turn to Aurynn. "I'm fine," you say. "Let's go. I have a meeting with Nour to get to." Aurynn shoots you a skeptical look, but upon seeing the look on your face, he sagely decides not to press the issue. You step over the shattered tea set and ease the door open. Aurynn follows, shutting the door behind you. [[Continue|Chp1-1.15]]

You've reached the end of the current playable demo! Stay tuned for more updates. Any feedback or constructive criticism is welcome. If you've found any bugs, errors, or spelling/grammatical mistakes I've missed, please let me know by commenting on itch.io or by messaging me on <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/stygiansun-totaleclipse">Tumblr.</a> Thank you for playing!

<<set $confrontational to $confrontational + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Confrontational<</notify>>\ You wrap your arms around yourself and squeeze your eyes shut, turning your head away. You are mortified that you let yourself break down like this in front of Aurynn. "Aw, don't be like that," Aurynn coos softly. He holds his arms out for an embrace. You sniffle and glare at him. "Absolutely not," you say. "So prickly." "Ugh." "C'mon, my arms are getting tired." You only turn your nose up at him in response. He rolls his eyes and steps forward to wrap you in a hug. You bristle at first, but after several moments, you begrudgingly relax against his chest. <<if ($height is "short") or ($height is "very short")>>\ "Aww, see? Isn't this nice?" He looks down at you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. <<elseif ($height is "very tall")>>\ "Aww, see? Isn't this nice?" He looks up at you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. <<else>>\ "Aww, see? Isn't this nice?" He looks at you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. <<endif>>\ Well. He's always known how to ruin a perfectly good moment. You immediately shove him away with a withering glare, brushing yourself off and crossing your arms. He backs off with a small laugh, his hands raised in surrender, and turns to look the other way as you recover your dignity. It takes you several moments to recompose yourself and to swallow the persistent lump in your throat. When you finally manage to get your breathing under control, you step over the shattered tea set and ease the door open, Aurynn following. He shuts the door quietly behind you. [[Continue|Chp1-1.15]]

<<set $straightforward to $straightforward + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Straightforward<</notify>>\ You wrap your arms around yourself and glance at him out of the corner of your eyes. "Stay," you whisper. His warm amber eyes meet yours and he nods, standing next to you silently while you cry. His presence alone is comforting, warm and bright and familiar. It takes you several moments to recompose yourself and to swallow the persistent lump in your throat. When you finally manage to get your breathing under control, you step over the shattered tea set and ease the door open, Aurynn following. He shuts the door quietly behind you. [[Continue|Chp1-1.15]]

<<set $gentle to $gentle + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Gentle<</notify>>\ You reach for him and he immediately understands, <<cycle "$embrace" autoselect>>\ <<option "stepping forward and into your embrace." "">> <<option "wrapping his arms around you in an embrace." "">> <</cycle>>\ <<if ($height is "short") or ($height is "very short")>>\ His arms settle around your waist as you lean against his chest, his skin warm against your cheek, the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat easing the throb in your temple. You both stay like that for several moments, neither of you saying a word. <<else>>\ His arms settle around your waist as you crook your head over his shoulder, his skin warm beneath your chin, the gold choker around his throat cool against your cheek. You both stay like that for several moments, neither of you saying a word. <<endif>>\ It takes you several moments to recompose yourself and to swallow the persistent lump in your throat. When you finally manage to get your breathing under control, you disentangle yourself from Aurynn and step over the shattered tea set, easing the door open as Aurynn follows. He shuts the door quietly behind you. [[Continue|Chp1-1.15]]

<<set $straightforward to $straightforward + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Straightforward<</notify>>\ You shrink away from him, needing to be alone, and gesture at the door. He takes the cue immediately and steps away. With a bow, Aurynn dips quietly out of the room without another word, his long flowing brown hair trailing behind him as he shuts the door with a soft click. As soon as he is gone, you wrap your arms around yourself and cry. It takes you several moments to recompose yourself and to swallow the persistent lump in your throat. When you finally manage to get your breathing under control, you step over the shattered tea set and ease the door open, shutting it quietly behind you. [[Continue|Chp1-1.15]]

<<set $charismatic to $charismatic + 1>>\ <<set $manipulative to $manipulative + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Charismatic, + Manipulative<</notify>>\ Your eyes sting with unshed tears and your throat bobs but you swallow down the emotion threatening to bubble up, smoothly replacing it with a forced smile. You turn to Aurynn. "No, it's alright. I'm fine, really." you say. "Uh huh." Aurynn says, shooting you a skeptical look. "What, are you worried about me?" He points at your face. "Increasingly. You're doing that thing again." "What thing?" "The thing where you start smiling in a way I think //you think// is reassuring—it's not, by the way—every time something bad happens even though you look totally dead inside." He props a hand on his hip. "I should know; I do it all the time." You put a hand on your hip, mirroring his posture but with an irritated flair. "Ex-//cuse// me? I look //'totally dead'// inside right now?" He holds out a placating hand. "In...like...a very flattering, attractive way, of course." He immediately cringes. "Wait no, not like that." "I think it will be better for you if you stop talking." "Agreed." He pauses. "But—" "I'm //fine,//" you repeat. Leaving no further room for discussion, you add, ""Now let's go. I have a meeting with Nour to get to." Aurynn looks ready to protest, but upon seeing the look on your face, he sagely decides not to press the issue. You step over the shattered tea set and ease the door open. Aurynn follows, shutting the door behind you. [[Continue|Chp1-1.15]]

Currently Unavailable

<span class="chapterhead">Chapter One</span> //Content Warnings: "Stygian Sun: Total Eclipse" contains many upsetting themes, such as arranged marriage, child abuse, child neglect, death, murder, violence, sexually suggestive scenes, optional sexual content, suicidal ideations, and more. "Stygian Sun: Total Eclipse" is intended for mature audiences 18+. Viewer discretion is advised.// <<link [[Begin|Start]]>><<audio "desertfantasybg" loop play>><</link>>

It is your brother who sits across from you in his war tent this time. Dreams are the only place you can see him now, after all. His thread was cut cruelly short. "My scouts have returned with their report on the attack outside of Thiss," he says, voice sharp and commanding. "Every last one of our troops. //Obliterated.// A bloody massacre..." He scrubs a frustrated hand through his hair. "Ember and Castor have reported the same." He rolls up a large map, tying a piece of twine around it to secure it. "Oddest thing, too," he continues. "I had scouts posted at every possible entry point. I covered //everything.// As did Ember and Castor. They didn't see anyone approach. Or any//thing.// One minute there was nothing, the next, bloody chaos. Their damn mutts showed up out of...of..." He swirls a hand through the air agitatedly. "Out of thin air." He sighs, setting the rolled map aside. "Ember says he's got a lead on where their beasts retreated to. He's an excellent tracker. If anyone can find them, it'll be Ember." You nod quietly, though you already know your brother will never find those war beasts, but you don't tell Parim this. What is the point? You keep your head stubbornly lowered. Parim pauses, then lets out a small, apologetic chuckle. "You have my apologies, little bird," he says somewhat sheepishly. "I promised I would not speak of war over tea today, and here I am already breaking my promise. We'll talk about something else." When you don't speak after several moments, Parim clears his throat, shifting on the cushion he sits cross-legged upon. "Have you heard from Farah recently? She has stopped responding to my letters. I think she must still be angry with me." You've spoken with your little sister since your return to the palace, of course. She has been all but attached to your hip. But while you were away, she had eventually stopped sending you letters, as well. It must have been sometime after you missed her tenth birthday, having been too busy to make it back home for her party. So you shake your head. Your brother sighs. "You as well, then...? I wonder if she's still speaking with her brothers, or with Nour. Perhaps I'll try writing mother again, and ask her to check in on her for me. I know she doesn't particularly like Farah, but..." He trails off, murmuring to himself. You can feel his stare on you, but you continue to refuse to meet his gaze. You can't do this tonight. "Won't you look at me, little bird?" Parim asks, his voice rich and gentle. When you do not answer, he sighs and leans forward, reaching across the low table between you and pouring you a steaming cup of tea. He sets the teapot—embellished with painted indigo birds flitting between the branches of an olive tree—down in the center of the table and picks up his own cup, drawing a small sip as he watches you carefully over the rim of his teacup. If he notices the tea muddied with bright crimson streaking down his throat after each sip, he does not acknowledge it. You swallow, keeping your gaze low and focused studiously on your lap. "You are upset with me," your brother says, finally. He sets his cup down and folds his hands in his lap, fixing you with those dark, piercing brown eyes, softened by his affection for you. "Tell me why." You drag your gaze, slowly, painfully, from your lap to his face. Sitting across from you now, his spine rigid and posture flawless, he almost looks every bit the perfect prince. Flowing red silks curve over broad shoulders, his crimson regalia a fire lighting the copper glow of his skin—a warm, earthy red-brown, as though each exquisite feature from his strong sharp jaw to his chiseled nose were sculpted painstakingly from clay. His bark brown hair, once long and ornately styled, is now cut short, your brother having grown tired of maintaining his hair and always having it get in the way. It was easier this way, he had told you. The only stain on his otherwise perfect appearance is the vicious, ragged, red gash torn into the side of his throat, the flesh pulped like the meat from a pomegranate. It is a struggle to keep your eyes from drifting down to the angry, pulsing wound every time a spurt of blood dribbles down the front of his chest or down his throat with an awful wet gurgling sound. Parim seems completely oblivious to the wound at his neck. He watches you, his eyes expectant but not demanding—ever patient, your older brother was. “Talk to me, little bird.” You open your mouth to speak but choke on your words as your stare settles on his mangled throat again. Parim mistakes your difficulty speaking for being choked up with emotion, and he slides his hand across the table, seeking yours. You let him cover your hand with his own, taking in the gnaw marks raking across his knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “What for?” “I didn’t know,” you say. Your gaze drops to your teacup, your reflection gaunt and weary. You hardly recognize the face as your own. When you inhale, the <<cycle "$tea" autoselect>>\ <<option "spiced" "spiced">> <<option "floral" "floral">> <<option "fruity" "fruity">> <<option "herbal" "herbal">> <<option "sweet" "sweet">> <<option "bitter" "bitter">> <</cycle>>\ scent of your tea is carried up to you on a trail of rising steam. “I should have known.” "You should have known what?" "What would happen.” You look up, gesturing to his throat. He glances down, running a hand over his ruby robes—now stained the wrong shade of red—as if he had only just noticed the blood trailing down his chest. You continue. “I didn't foresee it. Not because I failed to see the possibility but because I did not bother to foresee anything at all. I thought you would be safe. I thought you untouchable. Unequaled. Unrivaled. Unparagoned." Parim begins to pull his hand away but you turn your hand over under his to grasp his hand tightly, like a lifeline. "I thought you peerless, perfect, paramount. //Invincible.// So I did not bother to divine your fate. I did not think I needed to." Parim is quiet for several moments, a puzzled look on his face. When he lifts his hand from his chest, his fingers come away stained scarlet. He traces further up his chest until he reaches the raw pulsing wound at his throat. “When did this happen…?" he asks, bewildered. "I didn’t even feel it…” “I was told it was over very quickly,” you murmur. "For you, Yari, and Sandris..." "My retainers..." His eyes glaze over, gaze going somewhere far away, and though he looks directly at you, it is as though he is seeing right through you. “It all happened so quickly, I didn’t…It was so quiet, the way it moved. Unnatural. I didn’t even know it was trailing us until…” His gaze suddenly becomes focused again as his head snaps rigidly to the side, staring at the canvas wall of the tent. A faint rumble goes through the ground, somewhere far off. A ripple goes through your tea, and some faint and searching presence tugs at your stomach. Parim’s face is preternaturally still, but when he addresses you, his voice is soft and vulnerable in a way you are wholly unfamiliar with. "So quick to take the blame, you are; you've been that way since you were a child, always stepping in when Ember or your friend Luca were going to get in trouble." He shakes his head. "I owe you an apology—I should have figured you would turn out this way, that your selflessness would turn you to self-torment. I just...thought I'd have more time to guide you." Another tremor passes through your tea. Parim steadies his own teacup, his eyes still trained on the side of the tent. "Your insight into past and future does not make you solely responsible for them. You've always insisted on shouldering blame that isn't yours to bear." He turns to face you, his voice taking on a stern edge. “This cage has always been of your own making, little bird.” The hairs on the back of your neck prickle, a shiver of dread worming its way beneath your skin. A tugging sensation pulls at the pit of your stomach, like someone is yanking a rope tethered deep within your abdomen. You know this. You’ve felt this strange tug many times before. A presence, relentless in its search for you. A shadow, a dark blur—always stalking the edge of your vision, far away at first but always ever closer, closing in, cutting off escape. You do not even need to look up to sense the shadow looming over the canvas side of the tent. You lock eyes with your brother. He mouths a single word. //Fly.// The side of the tent bursts inward. You are thrown backward as the table topples over, porcelain shattering with a loud //CRASH//. A freezing gust of wind whips through the room. Strips of canvas billow to the ground, shredded by glistening fangs, and a great, hulking white-furred wolf—easily taller than a man—leaps through the mess, alighting in the space between you and Parim. The wood of the table splinters beneath its massive paws. Your brother does not even react, simply closing his eyes as the wolf’s maw snaps shut around his throat. <div class="choice"><<link 'You turn away, not wanting to see this. //It isn\’t real. It isn\’t real.//' 'Chp1-1.1TurnAway'>><</link>></div> <div class="choice"><<link 'You cannot help but watch this play out, paralyzed by fear and horror.' 'Chp1-1.1Paralyzed'>><</link>></div> <div class="choice"><<link 'It is a fruitless endeavor to try control your dreams—you\'ve learned this by now. Likewise, it is pointless to evade or kill that which pursues you in dreams. You will face this pursuing presence quietly and without fear.' 'Chp1-1.1Accept'>><</link>></div> <div class="choice"><<link 'You\’ve always hated feeling helpless. You know it will change nothing, but you attack the wolf anyway.' 'Chp1-1.1Attack'>><</link>></div>

<<set $lookaway to true>>\ <<set $gentle to $gentle + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Gentle<</notify>>\ You squeeze your eyes shut, turning away. You don’t want to see. You don’t want to see this. //It isn’t real,// you tell yourself over and over. //It isn’t real.// The hulking wolf snarls. Wood crunches beneath its heavy paws and you clamp your hands over your ears too late. There is a sickening wet //snap// and then…nothing. Just the sound of your own ragged breathing, the pounding of your pulse against your temple. You do not even hear the wolf’s breathing, and after a few moments, you open your eyes to the carpet beneath you. Your eyes drift to the wrecked tea table. Across from it, your brother lies crumpled and motionless, like a puppet with no one to hold him up. Your breath catches in your throat and you struggle to even breathe, your chin trembling. You shut your eyes again, shaking your head as a silent tear rolls down your cheek. //It’s not real. This isn’t real.// You twitch as a warm puff of breath blows over you and you turn, eyes opening to find yourself face to face with the massive snow-white wolf, the fur around its lips stained a bright red, its head bowed and ears flat. A choked whimper escapes your lips and you scramble backwards, but the wolf closes the distance, its tread eerily quiet. Frost clings to the ground beneath its every step. It watches you unblinkingly, great golden eyes boring into yours. Something tugs at the back of your mind, something strangely familiar about those eyes, about the way it looks at you. Never have you seen something so beautiful and terrifying as this creature. The wolf’s snout brushes against the side of your face. It huffs a warm breath through its nose and swipes a tongue across your cheek, causing you to flinch as you draw in a shuddering breath over your lips. When the wolf pulls away with a low whine, it leaves a warm wet smear of blood on your face. It pulls back just far enough to look at you, something in its wide gaze almost…reluctant. And then, with a sudden shake of its great head, any trace of hesitation in its eyes is gone. Its stare hardens with animalistic cruelty, snout wrinkling and lips peeling back over wet pink gums and long glistening canines. A low, rumbling growl reverberates from deep within the wolf's throat. It crouches low, legs tensing. Then it springs forward. You barely have time to close your eyes before the wolf's jaws clamp shut around your throat and twist. //Snap!// <<fadestart>><<link "Everything goes black…">><<passagefade "Chp1-1.1WakeupwithLuca" 3000>><</link>>

<<set $gentle to $gentle + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Gentle<</notify>>\ Every muscle in your body screams at you to fight, to flee, to //do something,// but you lay there, prone and sprawled out among the tattered tent, frozen to the spot. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you want to look away, but you cannot. The hulking wolf snarls. Then it yanks its jaws to the side and you hear your brother’s neck break with a sickening //snap.// A splatter of blood sprays across the beast’s snow-white fur. It drops Parim’s body limply to the ground, where he crumples like a puppet with no one to hold it. You don’t even scream. Your breath catches in your throat and you struggle to even breathe, your chin trembling. The wolf turns its unblinking penetrating stare on you, its great golden eyes boring into yours. Something tugs at the back of your mind, something strangely familiar about those eyes, about the way it looks at you. Never have you seen something so beautiful and terrifying as this creature. The wolf creeps slowly toward you, stepping carefully over your brother’s broken body and shattered pieces of china. Its tread is eerily quiet, its head bowed and ears tucked back. Frost clings to the ground beneath its every step. Blood stains the fur around its lips. Your fingers dig into the rug beneath you as the beast comes to a stop in front of you, and a silent tear rolls down your cheek. A weak, choked whimper escapes your lips as the wolf’s snout brushes against the side of your face. It huffs a warm breath through its nose and swipes a tongue across your cheek, causing you to flinch as you draw in a shuddering breath over your lips. When the wolf pulls away with a low whine, it leaves a warm wet smear of blood on your face. It pulls back just far enough to look at you, something in its wide gaze almost…reluctant. And then, with a sudden shake of its great head, any trace of hesitation in its eyes is gone. Its stare hardens with animalistic cruelty, snout wrinkling and lips peeling back over wet pink gums and long glistening canines. A low, rumbling growl reverberates from deep within the wolf's throat. It crouches low, legs tensing. Then it springs forward. You barely have time to close your eyes before the wolf's jaws clamp shut around your throat and twist. //Snap!// <<fadestart>><<link "Everything goes black…">><<passagefade "Chp1-1.1WakeupwithLuca" 3000>><</link>>

You spring to your feet, furious. What good is your power to part the veil, to peer into both past and future, if you cannot change things? You will not be able to change the outcome of this scene as it plays out—you know that, and it infuriates you. You are forever haunted by your mistakes, your failures. You know you will not be fast enough, but you lunge for your brother’s spear anyway, propped up on the other side of the tent, just above his sleeping mat. The hulking wolf snarls. Then it yanks its jaws to the side and you hear your brother’s neck break with a sickening //snap.// A splatter of blood sprays across the beast’s snow-white fur. It drops Parim’s body limply to the ground, where he crumples like a puppet with no one to hold it. <div class="choice">[[You unleash a guttural scream, your blood boiling.|Chp1-1.1AttackContinue][$attackscream to true]]</div> <div class="choice">[[You do not scream, your fury cold and silent. Your stare hardens, jaw set in determination.|Chp1-1.1AttackContinue][$attackscream to false]]</div>

<<if $attackscream is true>>\ <<set $confrontational to $confrontational + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Confrontational<</notify>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $imposing to $imposing + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Imposing<</notify>>\ <<endif>>\ <<cycle "$weapon" autoselect>>\ <<option "You twirl your brother’s spear masterfully, being most comfortable and familiar with spears, your preferred weapon of choice." "spear">> <<option "You heft your brother’s spear into your hands, the feel of it a bit uncomfortable and unfamiliar as you are more proficient with a different type of weapon." "other">> <</cycle>> You angle the point of the spear at the wolf menacingly, but it simply stares at you—quietly, unblinkingly—its great golden eyes boring into yours. The wolf creeps slowly toward you, stepping carefully over your brother’s broken body and shattered pieces of china. Its tread is eerily quiet, its head bowed and ears tucked back. Frost clings to the ground beneath its every step. Blood stains the fur around its lips. You hold your ground, your grip tight on the shaft of the spear, but something stays your hand, makes you hesitate to end the wolf. Something tugs at the back of your mind, something so strangely familiar about those eyes, about the way it looks at you. Something you can’t quite understand. The wolf stops just short of the point of your spear and whines softly, eyeing your weapon warily. Even on your feet, the beast still towers above you. Never have you seen something so beautiful and terrifying as this creature. When it looks at you again, something in its wide gaze seems almost…reluctant. And then, with a sudden shake of its great head, any trace of hesitation in its eyes is gone. Its stare hardens with animalistic cruelty, snout wrinkling and lips peeling back over wet pink gums and long glistening canines. A low, rumbling growl reverberates from deep within the wolf's throat. It crouches low, legs tensing. Then it springs forward. You grit your teeth. The veins in your hands just faintly start to glow as ichor begins to burn through your body, adding a burst of intense power to your strike, aimed directly at the wolf’s heart—but you are already too late. You barely have time to curse yourself for your hesitation before the wolf's jaws clamp shut around your throat and twist. //Snap!// <<fadestart>><<link "Everything goes black…">><<passagefade "Chp1-1.1WakeupwithLuca" 3000>><</link>>

<<timed 200ms>>"Easy, now," a voice calls to you. \ <<next 2000ms>>It sounds so far away... \ <<next 2000ms>>Distorted. \ <<next 2000ms>>Like you are locked behind a closed door, or trapped underwater. You struggle to swim to the surface of your mind, to consciousness. When your eyes open next, it is with a wince, the pain of fangs sinking into the soft flesh of your throat still fresh in your mind. Your dreams do so enjoy being cruel. You are lying on your back, your head cushioned within someone’s lap. Distantly, you are aware of someone gently stroking the side of your face with the backs of their fingers. You try to speak, but only manage a pained gasp, your fingers flying to your aching throat. A small hand pries your fingers away from your neck—tenderly, as if afraid they might break you. A faint tug pulls at your stomach, and you place a hand over your belly in a feeble attempt to assuage your rising nausea. “Don’t,” a voice says. You know that voice. You would know it anywhere. “Luca,” you say, softly. <div class="choice">[[“Try not to speak,” he says.|Chp1-1.2][$lucathey to "he",$lucathem to "him",$lucatheir to "his",$lucatheirs to "his",$lucathemself to "himself",$lucagender to "boy"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[“Try not to speak,” she says.|Chp1-1.2][$lucathey to "she",$lucathem to "her",$lucatheir to "her",$lucatheirs to "hers",$lucathemself to "herself",$lucagender to "girl"]]</div> <</timed>>\

<<set $manipulative to $manipulative + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Manipulative<</notify>>\ You know Luca doesn't really mean it and is planning on helping you regardless. Still, a little karmic retribution is in order. $lucaThey should really know better than to play standoffish with you. "What, don't tell me you're tired of me already," you say. "It's been nearly a decade. You should be able to do this on your own, you know?" “Sure, but it's so much easier when you help me. I focus better with you around. //But// if you are kicking me out of the nest, I suppose I could always just ask someone else to help me instead." You tap a finger to your chin thoughtfully. Luca pauses. "Like who?" You can hear the frown in $lucatheir voice. <<if $lucathey is "he">>\ "Hmmm. What about Lord Callum?" "//Who?//" "Lord Oasis' son. You remember him? The boy you would sometimes attend lessons with? He would follow us around at balls? The one who would give you plenty of //very// helpful and informed, ah, //advice,// let's call it, which was //very// much wanted and appreciated." <<else>>\ "Hmmm. What about Lady Calliope?" "//Who?//" "Lord Oasis' daughter. You remember her? The girl you would sometimes attend lessons with? She would follow us around at balls? The one who would give you plenty of //very// helpful and informed, ah, //advice,// let's call it, which was //very// much wanted and appreciated." <<endif>>\ Luca is quiet for a few moments as $lucathey tries to recall who you're speaking of. When it clicks, $lucathey sits suddenly upright and rigid. $lucaThey spins to face you. "Wha—you can't be serious? //That// lout? $lucaThey wouldn't be able to read a fortune if it smacked $lucathem in the face! You think you could concentrate better around //$lucathem?// The idiot can't keep $lucatheir mouth shut for five seconds." Luca holds up five fingers to illustrate $lucatheir point, waving $lucatheir hand in your face. "$lucaThey loves the sound of $lucatheir voice too much. And $lucatheir //'advice?'//" Luca mimes air quotations. "//Utter. Rubbish.// A stuck-up, entitled, //brat,// that one." "Oh come now, it's been nine years. People change. You know, I hear $lucathey's really come into $lucatheir abilities with divination. Quite talented, really—" "//Nonsense.// You'd be a fool to seek $lucatheir help." $lucaThey crosses $lucatheir arms. Perhaps, if you were honest with yourself, you could do this on your own. But the fact is you do not want to. You don’t want to be alone. You don’t know what it is that keeps Luca here, what it is that summons $lucathem to your dreams at night—your own loneliness? Manifestations of guilt, maybe? Or perhaps it is some sort of connection beyond the planes of life and death that your goddess, Theia, has graciously granted you. Regardless, you fear that if you did not need Luca’s help anymore, you would cease to see $lucathem. Dreams are the only place you can see $lucathem now, after all. “So does that mean I can count on you to help me?" <<if $lucathey is "he">>\ Luca huffs an affronted breath. "No. Why don't you go ask //Lord Callum// if he's so much better." <<else>>\ Luca huffs an affronted breath. "No. Why don't you go ask //Lady Calliope// if she's so much better." <<endif>>\ "I never said $lucathey was better, but if you insist, I'll just ask $lucathem when I wake up—" “Wait, no, don't ask $lucathem." Luca blurts out. "I'll do it." "How kind." <<link '“I hate that I know what you just did. And I hate that it //worked//,” Luca gripes, though there is no real animosity in $lucatheir voice.' 'Chp1-1.4'>><</link>>

<<set $charismatic to $charismatic + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Charismatic<</notify>>\ “Yes,” you say, tipping your chin and fluttering your eyelashes coyly at Luca. You can imagine the scowl forming on $lucatheir lips, if $lucatheir features were visible. "So be a dear and help me, won't you?" "Hm. Suddenly I don't feel like helping anymore," Luca says dryly. "So mean. It's considered rude to refuse a request from your elders, you know?" "So?" "So help your dearest, darling friend out." "No, I think I'd rather watch you struggle through this by yourself. Just to punish you." "You //wouldn't.// I know you would never turn up a chance to rescue your //favorite// person who is in //desperate// need of rescuing from a certain talented, treasured, beloved, slightly moody—oh, who am I kidding? //Very// moody—" "Alright, alright! Just stop talking!" Luca clamps a hand over your mouth. It tingles strangely—like static. You smile under Luca's hand. Were it anyone else, pride might have stayed your tongue in asking for help. But pride has never been an obstacle between you and Luca. Well, not for //you// at least. Perhaps, if you were honest with yourself, you could do this on your own. But the fact is you do not want to. You don’t want to be alone. You don’t know what it is that keeps Luca here, what it is that summons $lucathem to your dreams at night—your own loneliness? Manifestations of guilt, maybe? Or perhaps it is some sort of connection beyond the planes of life and death that your goddess, Theia, has graciously granted you. Regardless, you fear that if you did not need Luca’s help anymore, you would cease to see $lucathem. Dreams are the only place you can see $lucathem now, after all. Luca removes $lucatheir hand from your mouth. "So," you say. "You'll help me?" $lucaThey sighs, feigning exasperation, but you can hear the smile in $lucatheir voice when $lucathey speaks. [[“If it will shut you up.”|Chp1-1.4]]

<<set $dignified to $dignified + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Dignified<</notify>>\ You close your eyes and take a deep breath. //This isn't real,// you tell yourself. It is a small consolation at best; dreams have power—this, you are well aware of. You open your eyes and pull yourself to your feet slowly. You will not run—you have always been taught there is no honor in retreat. Besides, there is nowhere to escape to in your dreams; you are trapped here. You knew this was inevitable; the shadow lurking in your dreams would always catch up to you eventually. You bring yourself to your full height, spine rigid, doing your best to temper the slight tremble in your hands. Despite your attempts at a stoic facade, your heart cannot help but race at how small you feel beneath this huge, lumbering beast, your brother's throat held between its slavering maw. The hulking wolf snarls. Then it yanks its jaws to the side and you hear your brother’s neck break with a sickening //snap.// A splatter of blood sprays across the beast’s snow-white fur. It drops Parim’s body limply to the ground, where he crumples like a puppet with no one to hold it. You flinch, but do little else to react. Your heart hammers in your chest, but you lift your chin, gripping your wrist with the other hand to keep your trembling under control. The wolf turns its unblinking penetrating stare on you, its great golden eyes boring into yours. Something tugs at the back of your mind, something strangely familiar about those eyes, about the way it looks at you. Never have you seen something so beautiful and terrifying as this creature. The wolf creeps slowly toward you, stepping carefully over your brother’s broken body and shattered pieces of china. Its tread is eerily quiet, its head bowed and ears tucked back. Frost clings to the ground beneath its every step. Blood stains the fur around its lips. Your fingernails dig into your wrist as the beast comes to a stop in front of you, it's massive head towering above you. You hold perfectly still as the wolf’s snout brushes against the side of your face. It huffs a warm breath through its nose and swipes a tongue across your cheek, causing you to cringe. Your eyes flutter shut, the beast's snout nudging your head to the side as it sniffs at you. When the wolf pulls away with a low whine, it leaves a warm wet smear of blood on your face. "What...are you...? What do you want...?" It pulls back just far enough to look at you, something in its wide gaze almost…reluctant. And then, with a sudden shake of its great head, any trace of hesitation in its eyes is gone. Its stare hardens with animalistic cruelty, snout wrinkling and lips peeling back over wet pink gums and long glistening canines. A low, rumbling growl reverberates from deep within the wolf's throat. It crouches low, legs tensing. Then it springs forward. You barely have time to close your eyes before the wolf's jaws clamp shut around your throat and twist. //Snap!// <<fadestart>><<link "Everything goes black…">><<passagefade "Chp1-1.1WakeupwithLuca" 3000>><</link>>

It takes you a few moments to gather your thoughts. You've told Luca about the tug you've been feeling, that strange, searching presence lurking in your dreams, getting ever closer. $lucaThey had been very concerned when you had first told $lucathem about it, and had promised to look into it. You hadn't seen $lucathem for weeks since then. “That...that //shadow// was there again. The one that has been stalking me in my dreams as of late." You look up at Luca, whose dark silhouette seems to grow more saturnine by the second, if that is possible. $lucaThey catches you staring and motions for you to go on. "It revealed itself to me this time. A wolf,” you continue. Luca’s fingers twitch, but they go back to caressing your face so smoothly you think you must have imagined it. “A great, white wolf. With yellow eyes. Massive, it was. Bigger than a man.” “A white wolf…?” “Yes,” you rasp. A shudder goes through your body, remembering the blood painted across its slavering maw. “It…Parim…and then…” Your fingers trace your throat, where dagger-like fangs had torn through the flesh. Luca seems to get the picture. $lucaThey moves one hand protectively over your throat, patting your head gently. You shake your head, continuing. “Do you think that was the same beast that…?” “I don’t know.” “It was the strangest thing. I felt like…like I’d seen that wolf somewhere before,” you whisper. But that couldn’t be possible. You’ve never run into a Celestylian war beast before. You would have remembered a creature like that, if you had even survived the encounter. They were known to be vicious, relentless, bloodthirsty. //Unfaltering.// You frown. //So why did it hesitate...?// you think to yourself. And that wolf had killed so cleanly. A quick, precise snap to the neck. From the reports you've heard, Celestylian war beasts were never so clean, so concise. Parim’s body had been so mangled, so shredded beyond recognition, there was hardly anything left of him—the only thing they’d been able to recover from his body was his torn and tattered cloak and his spear. Your head throbs and you sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe I'm just imagining things. My mind has been so tangled up since I got back.” “Hm.” You can hear the frown in Luca’s voice. $lucaThey is quiet for a long time, and eventually you decide to sit up, propping yourself up with your elbows and a wince. Luca helps you pull yourself into a sitting position, and you cross your legs beneath you. Your vision still swims, as though you are underwater, making your stomach churn. You close your eyes, trying to ignore your nausea and the insistent throb in your temple. When you open your eyes, you notice Luca is watching you. “I see you’ve been faring well without me,” $lucathey says. You rasp out a laugh, only to wince when your throat protests painfully. “Evidently,” you say. You turn to face Luca, $lucatheir outline still grainy, as though $lucathey is made of sand. You give $lucathem a meaningful look. “I’ve been having trouble concentrating.” “//Tch.// You are a child no longer,” $lucathey chides. “Honestly, do you really still need my help with channeling your focus?” <div class="choice">[[“Yes.” It is the honest, simple truth.|Chp1-1.3yes]]</div> <div class="choice">[[“Yes. So be a dear and help me, won't you?”|Chp1-1.3yescharismatic]]</div> <div class="choice">[[“No.” It is a lie, but you can tell Luca seems exhausted—perhaps more so than you—so you try to be considerate this time.|Chp1-1.3no]]</div> <div class="choice"><<link '“I suppose I could always just ask someone else for help."' 'Chp1-1.3manipulative'>><</link>></div>

<<set $charismatic to $charismatic + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Charismatic<</notify>>\ “That shouldn’t come as a surprise,” you tease. “When do I ever heed your advice?” “I don’t even know why I offer it, then,” Luca huffs, annoyed. “I may as well just tell it to a rock. It would listen better.” You smile. “I missed you.” “Mmm,” $lucathey hums again, voice softer this time. “I was having a bad dream,” you say softly after a few moments. Luca continues to stroke the side of your face. “I know.” “About Parim.” “Oh,” $lucathey touches your shoulder gingerly. "I'm sorry. Are you...?" <div class="choice">[[You swallow. "No. But I'll be alright."|Chp1-1.2straightforward]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Your chin trembles. "No."|Chp1-1.2gentle]]</div> <div class="choice">[[You rush to paste a confident, reassuring smile on your face. "Aww, there's no need to worry about me. I'm fine, see?"|Chp1-1.2charismatic]]</div> <div class="choice">[[You are shaken, but you take a breath, affecting an impassive expression. "I am fine."|Chp1-1.2dignified]]</div> <div class="choice"><<link 'You are shaken, yes, but it isn\'t anything you cannot handle. Still, you exagerrate how rattled you are, knowing Luca will be more reluctant to leave you alone. You missed $lucathem while $lucathey was away, and you don\'t want $lucathem to disappear again any time soon.' 'Chp1-1.2manipulative'>><</link>></div> <div class="choice">[[You bite your lip, anger flaring up as you remember how easily that beast snapped your brother's neck, as though he were a twig. "No."|Chp1-1.2confrontational]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Your face hardens, and you wave off Luca's concern. "I'm fine."|Chp1-1.2imposing]]</div>

<<set $straightforward to $straightforward + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Straightforward<</notify>>\ "Ah. Right. That advice," you say. Luca flicks your forehead and you go quiet for several moments, but ultimately decide there is simply too much you wish to talk about. "I've decided to ignore your advice." Luca throws $lucatheir hands up. "I don't even know why I bother." You smile. “I missed you.” “Mmm,” $lucathey hums again, voice softer this time. “I was having a bad dream,” you say softly after a few moments. Luca continues to stroke the side of your face. “I know.” “About Parim.” “Oh,” $lucathey touches your shoulder gingerly. "I'm sorry. Are you...?" <div class="choice">[[You swallow. "No. But I'll be alright."|Chp1-1.2straightforward]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Your chin trembles. "No."|Chp1-1.2gentle]]</div> <div class="choice">[[You rush to paste a confident, reassuring smile on your face. "Aww, there's no need to worry about me. I'm fine, see?"|Chp1-1.2charismatic]]</div> <div class="choice">[[You are shaken, but you take a breath, affecting an impassive expression. "I am fine."|Chp1-1.2dignified]]</div> <div class="choice"><<link 'You are shaken, yes, but it isn\'t anything you cannot handle. Still, you exagerrate how rattled you are, knowing Luca will be more reluctant to leave you alone. You missed $lucathem while $lucathey was away, and you don\'t want $lucathem to disappear again any time soon.' 'Chp1-1.2manipulative'>><</link>></div> <div class="choice">[[You bite your lip, anger flaring up as you remember how easily that beast snapped your brother's neck, as though he were a twig. "No."|Chp1-1.2confrontational]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Your face hardens, and you wave off Luca's concern. "I'm fine."|Chp1-1.2imposing]]</div>

<<set $charismatic to $charismatic + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Charismatic<</notify>>\ "Aww, there's no need to worry about me. I'm fine, see?" You smile charmingly up at Luca, who flicks you hard on the head, $lucatheir fingers leaving a static-like buzz on your skin. "Ow," you grumble, rubbing at your forehead. "What was that for?" "You know. You don't have to pretend around me." "I'm not pretending." "You know, you're just going to make me worry more if you try to hide when you're hurting from me. I thought we made a promise not to keep secrets." You look away guiltily, smile dropping. "You're right. I'm sorry." "I'm sorry, too," Luca murmurs. "I didn't know Parim as well as you did, but I remember he was always kind to me the few times I met him when we were kids. He was a good man. He deserved better. They all did." You nod weakly. You'd had no time to grieve when you first heard the news; the war kept going and your soldiers were awaiting your orders. You had to be a commander. And upon returning to the palace, you've been so swamped with work and preparations for Nour's coronation, you hadn't had any time to properly grieve your dead siblings. There are times when you forget, when you expect Ember to come barging into your room without knocking, a disgruntled and apologetic Castor following closely behind his twin. There are times you find your feet making their way toward Aurora's old room, to ask her opinion on how best to handle a piece of correspondence with a rather prickly noble only to suddenly remember her room will be empty. And there are times during ceremonies when you look to the dais, searching for the spot Parim should be, standing next to your father, only to find it filled by a discomforted-looking Nour, who catches your searching gaze with a sad, knowing look. Parim, Aurora, Castor, and Ember...they're all really gone. They aren't coming back. A small, sad laugh escapes you. "I really miss them. I even miss when Ember used to randomly come into my room just to insult my choice of outfit. And then just leave." Luca breathes a laugh through $lucatheir nose. "They were just like that, huh. They used to tease me, too. I remember right after he and Castor turned twelve, he came to find me just to ask me, 'How does it feel to be eleven, idiot?'" "Sounds like something they would do." $lucaThey nods, giving you a few moments to compose yourself before speaking again. "Something else happened." $lucaThey gestures at your throat, and you bring your fingers to the sensitive skin there. "Didn't it?" You nod. [[Continue|Chp1-1.3]]

<<set $dignified to $dignified + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Dignified<</notify>>\ You compose your face into a placid mask of perfect calm. "I'm fine," you say simply. Luca flicks you hard on the head, $lucatheir fingers leaving a static-like buzz on your skin. "Ow," you grumble, rubbing at your forehead. "What was that for?" "You know. You don't have to pretend around me." "I'm not pretending." "You know, you're just going to make me worry more if you try to hide when you're hurting from me. I thought we made a promise not to keep secrets." You look away guiltily. "You're right. I'm sorry." "I'm sorry, too," Luca murmurs. "I didn't know Parim as well as you did, but I remember he was always kind to me the few times I met him when we were kids. He was a good man. He deserved better. They all did." You nod weakly. You'd had no time to grieve when you first heard the news; the war kept going and your soldiers were awaiting your orders. You had to be a commander. And upon returning to the palace, you've been so swamped with work and preparations for Nour's coronation, you hadn't had any time to properly grieve your dead siblings. There are times when you forget, when you expect Ember to come barging into your room without knocking, a disgruntled and apologetic Castor following closely behind his twin. There are times you find your feet making their way toward Aurora's old room, to ask her opinion on how best to handle a piece of correspondence with a rather prickly noble only to suddenly remember her room will be empty. And there are times during ceremonies when you look to the dais, searching for the spot Parim should be, standing next to your father, only to find it filled by a discomforted-looking Nour, who catches your searching gaze with a sad, knowing look. Parim, Aurora, Castor, and Ember...they're all really gone. They aren't coming back. You let out a low hum and Luca turns to you questioningly. "I don't think I've even cried since it happened. I didn't have time to. Now, I...I feel like I don't even know how to grieve them. It's easier to just...not." You look up at Luca. "Am I a terrible person?" "No. You're just...hurting. Everyone hurts differently." You nod and fall quiet. $lucaThey sits in silence, giving you a few moments to compose yourself before speaking again. "Something else happened." $lucaThey gestures at your throat, and you bring your fingers to the sensitive skin there. "Didn't it?" You nod. [[Continue|Chp1-1.3]]

<<set $straightforward to $straightforward + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Straightforward<</notify>>\ Your brother's mangled throat, the sudden //snap// of his neck, his crumpled body lying in a broken heap atop the smashed tea table—all of it comes flooding back to you and you swallow the lump rising in your throat. "No," you say. "But I'll be alright." "I'm sorry," Luca murmurs. $lucaThey presses $lucatheir cheek to the top of your head. "I didn't know him as well as you did, but I remember he was always kind to me the few times I met him when we were kids. He was a good man. He deserved better. They all did." You nod weakly. You'd had no time to grieve when you first heard the news; the war kept going and your soldiers were awaiting your orders. You had to be a commander. And upon returning to the palace, you've been so swamped with work and preparations for Nour's coronation, you hadn't had any time to properly grieve your dead siblings. There are times when you forget, when you expect Ember to come barging into your room without knocking, a disgruntled and apologetic Castor following closely behind his twin. There are times you find your feet making their way toward Aurora's old room, to ask her opinion on how best to handle a piece of correspondence with a rather prickly noble only to suddenly remember her room will be empty. And there are times during ceremonies when you look to the dais, searching for the spot Parim should be, standing next to your father, only to find it filled by a discomforted-looking Nour, who catches your searching gaze with a sad, knowing look. Parim, Aurora, Castor, and Ember...they're all really gone. They aren't coming back. A small, sad laugh escapes you. "I really miss them. I even miss when Ember used to randomly come into my room just to insult my choice of outfit And then just leave." Luca breathes a laugh through $lucatheir nose. "They were just like that, huh. They used to tease me, too. I remember right after he and Castor turned twelve, he came to find me just to ask me, 'How does it feel to be eleven, idiot?'" "Sounds like something they would do." $lucaThey nods, giving you a few moments to compose yourself before speaking again. "Something else happened." $lucaThey gestures at your throat, and you bring your fingers to the sensitive skin there. "Didn't it?" You nod. [[Continue|Chp1-1.3]]

<<set $gentle to $gentle + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Gentle<</notify>>\ Your brother's mangled throat, the sudden //snap// of his neck, his crumpled body lying in a broken heap atop the smashed tea table—all of it comes flooding back to you and your chin begins to tremble, eyes watering. Luca gathers you up in $lucatheir arms, cradling your head against $lucatheir chest and rocking you while you cry. "I'm sorry," Luca murmurs. $lucaThey presses $lucatheir cheek to the top of your head. "I didn't know him as well as you did, but I remember he was always kind to me the few times I met him when we were kids. He was a good man. He deserved better. They all did." You begin to cry harder, all the pain you've been holding in up until now flooding out like water gushing through a broken dam. You'd had no time to grieve when you first heard the news; the war kept going and your soldiers were awaiting your orders. You had to be a commander. And upon returning to the palace, you've been so swamped with work and preparations for Nour's coronation, you hadn't had any time to properly grieve your dead siblings. There are times when you forget, when you expect Ember to come barging into your room without knocking, a disgruntled and apologetic Castor following closely behind his twin. There are times you find your feet making their way toward Aurora's old room, to ask her opinion on how best to handle a piece of correspondence with a rather prickly noble only to suddenly remember her room will be empty. And there are times during ceremonies when you look to the dais, searching for the spot Parim should be, standing next to your father, only to find it filled by a discomforted-looking Nour, who catches your searching gaze with a sad, knowing look. Parim, Aurora, Castor, and Ember...they're all really gone. They aren't coming back. Luca holds you until you cannot cry anymore. "I'm here," $lucathey whispers against the side of your head. "I'm here." You sniff, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands, shooting a weak smile at Luca. "Thank you," you say. "I think I needed that." $lucaThey nods, giving you a few moments to compose yourself before speaking again. "Something else happened." $lucaThey gestures at your throat, and you bring your fingers to the sensitive skin there. "Didn't it?" You nod. [[Continue|Chp1-1.3]]

<<set $confrontational to $confrontational + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Confrontational<</notify>>\ Your brother's mangled throat, the sudden //snap// of his neck, his crumpled body lying in a broken heap atop the smashed tea table—all of it comes flooding back to you and you grit your teeth. "No," you say. "I'm not okay." "Yeah, it was a stupid question," Luca agrees. $lucaThey looks like $lucathey wants to add something else, but upon seeing the hard set to your jaw, $lucathey decides against it. Instead, $lucathey sighs. "I'm sorry," Luca murmurs. "I didn't know Parim as well as you did, but I remember he was always kind to me the few times I met him when we were kids. He was a good man. He deserved better. They all did." Your fists clench and you look away. You'd had no time to grieve when you first heard the news; the war kept going and your soldiers were awaiting your orders. You had to be a commander. And upon returning to the palace, you've been so swamped with work and preparations for Nour's coronation, you hadn't had any time to properly grieve your dead siblings. There are times when you forget, when you expect Ember to come barging into your room without knocking, a disgruntled and apologetic Castor following closely behind his twin. There are times you find your feet making their way toward Aurora's old room, to ask her opinion on how best to handle a piece of correspondence with a rather prickly noble only to suddenly remember her room will be empty. And there are times during ceremonies when you look to the dais, searching for the spot Parim should be, standing next to your father, only to find it filled by a discomforted-looking Nour, who catches your searching gaze with a sad, knowing look. Parim, Aurora, Castor, and Ember...they're all really gone. They aren't coming back. You let out a low hum and Luca turns to you questioningly. "I don't think I've even cried since it happened. All I've felt is...angry. With Celestyl. With them. With myself." You look up at Luca. "Am I a terrible person?" "No. You're just...hurting. Everyone hurts differently." You nod and fall quiet. $lucaThey sits in silence, giving you a few moments to compose yourself before speaking again. "Something else happened." $lucaThey gestures at your throat, and you bring your fingers to the sensitive skin there. "Didn't it?" You nod. [[Continue|Chp1-1.3]]

<<set $imposing to $imposing + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Imposing<</notify>>\ You set your jaw, face hardening into a stoic, imperious facade. "I'm fine," you say coldly. Luca flicks you hard on the head, $lucatheir fingers leaving a static-like buzz on your skin. You simply glare at $lucathem. "I'm your friend, not a subject. Don't shut me out." "That's not what I'm doing. I said I was fine. You needn't worry about me." "You know, you're just going to make me worry more if you try to hide when you're hurting from me. I thought we made a promise not to keep secrets." Your shoulders slump in defeat and you look away guiltily. "You're right. I'm sorry." "I'm sorry, too," Luca murmurs. "I didn't know Parim as well as you did, but I remember he was always kind to me the few times I met him when we were kids. He was a good man. He deserved better. They all did." You nod stiffly. You'd had no time to grieve when you first heard the news; the war kept going and your soldiers were awaiting your orders. You had to be a commander. And upon returning to the palace, you've been so swamped with work and preparations for Nour's coronation, you hadn't had any time to properly grieve your dead siblings. There are times when you forget, when you expect Ember to come barging into your room without knocking, a disgruntled and apologetic Castor following closely behind his twin. There are times you find your feet making their way toward Aurora's old room, to ask her opinion on how best to handle a piece of correspondence with a rather prickly noble only to suddenly remember her room will be empty. And there are times during ceremonies when you look to the dais, searching for the spot Parim should be, standing next to your father, only to find it filled by a discomforted-looking Nour, who catches your searching gaze with a sad, knowing look. Parim, Aurora, Castor, and Ember...they're all really gone. They aren't coming back. You let out a low hum and Luca turns to you questioningly. "I don't think I've even cried since it happened. I didn't have time to. Now, I...I feel like I don't even know how to grieve them. It's easier to just...not." You look up at Luca. "Am I a terrible person?" "No. You're just...hurting. Everyone hurts differently." You nod and fall quiet. $lucaThey sits in silence, giving you a few moments to compose yourself before speaking again. "Something else happened." $lucaThey gestures at your throat, and you bring your fingers to the sensitive skin there. "Didn't it?" You nod. [[Continue|Chp1-1.3]]

<<set $manipulative to $manipulative + 1>>\ <<notify>>+ Manipulative<</notify>>\ Your brother's mangled throat, the sudden //snap// of his neck, his crumpled body lying in a broken heap atop the smashed tea table—all of it comes flooding back to you. You glance up at Luca's silhouette, $lucatheir familiar presence soothing to your frayed nerves. It's been many weeks since $lucathey's turned up in your dreams and you've had trouble concentrating, trouble sleeping without $lucathem here. Swallowing thickly, you summon a well of tears to your eyes. Luca reacts just as instantly as you knew $lucathey would, gathering you up in $lucatheir arms and cradling your head against $lucatheir chest as $lucathey rocks you while you cry. "I'm sorry," Luca murmurs. $lucaThey presses $lucatheir cheek to the top of your head. "I didn't know him as well as you did, but I remember he was always kind to me the few times I met him when we were kids. He was a good man. He deserved better. They all did." You begin to cry harder, and Luca grips you tighter. You'd had no time to grieve when you first heard the news; the war kept going and your soldiers were awaiting your orders. You had to be a commander. And upon returning to the palace, you've been so swamped with work and preparations for Nour's coronation, you hadn't had any time to properly grieve your dead siblings. There are times when you forget, when you expect Ember to come barging into your room without knocking, a disgruntled and apologetic Castor following closely behind his twin. There are times you find your feet making their way toward Aurora's old room, to ask her opinion on how best to handle a piece of correspondence with a rather prickly noble only to suddenly remember her room will be empty. And there are times during ceremonies when you look to the dais, searching for the spot Parim should be, standing next to your father, only to find it filled by a discomforted-looking Nour, who catches your searching gaze with a sad, knowing look. Parim, Aurora, Castor, and Ember...they're all really gone. They aren't coming back. Luca holds you until you feel you've cried a sufficient amount to be convincing. It isn't as though you aren't upset. It's just that you feel this moment deserves an especially mournful performance. Luca would be far more reluctant to disappear on you again if you are hurting badly. "I'm here," $lucathey whispers against the side of your head. "I'm here." You sniff, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. "You aren't going to leave again, are you?" Luca rubs a hand guiltily against the back of $lucatheir neck. "No," $lucathey says. "I'm sorry I was gone so long this last time. I...I didn't realize." You wrap your arms around $lucathem. "Good," you say. $lucaThey nods, giving you a few moments to compose yourself before speaking again. "Something else happened." $lucaThey gestures at your throat, and you bring your fingers to the sensitive skin there. "Didn't it?" You nod. [[Continue|Chp1-1.3]]

While you are primarily proficient in the art of divination and foresight, you also have a natural affinity for manipulating gravitational fields, bogging down your enemies with unforgiving increases in gravity or pulling them in closer to enable you to make the final kill. Conversely, you can make your own body movements quick and light as a feather by decreasing your own gravity or traverse difficult terrain like cliffsides and ceilings with ease by adjusting your own direction of gravity. Your magic can be incredibly useful, but it is difficult to master and very dangerous if not used correctly. Does this sound right? <div class="choice">[[Yes.|GravityConfirm]]</div> <div class="choice">[[No, I excel at something else.|RepromptMagicAsk]]</div>

<<set $magic to "gravity">>\ Yes, gravitational manipulation has always been your forte. Unfortunately, that does you little good when it comes to fixing cold tea. You sigh, wishing at this moment Nour was here to warm your tea for you. You wince when you catch yourself almost thinking //Or Ember.// A persistent lump rises in your throat and you struggle for a moment to swallow it down, earning you a confused yet concerned glance from Farah. You offer her a tight smile. It does not seem to reassure her. Clearing your mind of those lingering threads of guilt and grief takes a moment longer, but afterwards you set your teacup down with a resigned sigh, directing your attention back to Nour’s letter. [[Continue|Chp1-1.12]]

<<set $confrontational to $confrontational + 2>>\ <<notify>>+ Confrontational, + Confrontational<</notify>>\ You immediately bristle at his concern, turning away. "I'm fine," you snap. "Why wouldn't I be?" Aurynn seems completely unfazed by your iciness. He shrugs exagerratedly. "Oh, I dunno. Maybe because your sister just shattered your dead brother's tea set and told you she hated you? Just a guess." "Get out." "So you //do// need a minute?" You whip around to glower at him. He raises his arms in surrender and moves to the door, his hand resting on the doorknob, hesitating. "Just...give her some time. She didn't mean it," he says. After a pause, he adds, "I'll ask Sam if anything can be done about the tea set." Then he bows and dips quietly out of the room without another word, his long flowing brown hair trailing behind him as he shuts the door with a soft click. You cross your arms, nails biting into your skin, and squeeze your eyes shut. When you finally manage to get your breathing under control, you step over the shattered tea set and ease the door open, shutting it quietly behind you. [[Continue|Chp1-1.15]]